the window, I pushed the curtain aside to see who it was. A car was pulling around the circle drive, the door popping open even before it had come to a complete stop.
Sean. Sean stepped out of the car. I sucked in a quick burst of air through my nose and then my insides froze, unable to even react as Sean loped up the steps and disappeared from my view.
The doorbell rang, followed almost immediately by pounding on the door.
I didn’t move. There was a part of me that wanted to fulfill the romance movie cliché and go running down the stairs, throwing the door open before flinging myself into his waiting arms. But it seemed my life had snuffed most of the romanticism out of me some time ago. The pounding came again, but I was still stuck in front of that window—wanting to believe he was here to stay, wanting to yell at him for all he’d put me through. The movies were wrong. Leaping into his arms wasn’t going to fix what he had broken.
The sound of the front door opening was followed by murmured voices. Probably Naomi.
Maybe he would push his way past her and come running up here to find me, bursting through the door. If he did, he’d wake up Joanie, and hell hath no fury like a mother whose infant has just been woken up.
The faint creak of my bedroom door opening reached my ears, followed by Naomi’s whispered question. “Libby?”
I couldn’t find my voice to respond.
“Sean is here.” She sounded the way I felt. Confused. Not sure how she was supposed to feel about the news.
“Okay.”
“I made him wait downstairs. I wasn’t sure you would want to see him.”
“Maybe he’s just here to pick up something he forgot.” There was the bitterness. Right there, ready to comfort and protect me.
“I don’t think so,” she responded in all seriousness. “Do you want me to ask him to go?”
“No,” I breathed out, still locked in place, staring at the window.
“Okay,” she said, and quietly let herself out of the room.
She was leaving it up to me, not prompting me one way or the other. I wanted to stay right here, by this window. There was pain here where I stood, but it was a pain I had come to know over the past two days. The prospect of additional pain was difficult to contemplate, and there was a good chance that was exactly what Sean was bringing to me right now.
Standing here indefinitely wasn’t an option though. I had to face him, talk to him, let him speak his piece. Speak my own piece.
So I sucked in a breath. It was shallow, but it was the best I could do to fortify my nerves before turning and walking out into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind me. My footsteps were short and stiff. My arms crossed tightly across my chest in an attempt to hold myself together.
As I neared the banister of the landing overlooking the great room, Sean’s head came into view. Light, wavy hair. He was standing in the middle of the room, right in front of the couch, like he’d made an attempt to sit but decided against it.
My approach must have made a noise, because he looked up at me, his eyes filled with remorse as he took me in head to toe. His mouth pulled down in a pained frown as he studied my face. “I’m so sorry,” he said in earnest.
“You left me.” My voice was quiet, but it floated down into the spacious great room with ease.
“I know. But I’m back.”
“But you left me!” The accusation echoed.
“Yes.”
I pursed my lips, breathing hard through my nose. “What do you expect me to say to that? That it’s okay? It’s not. That I forgive you? I don’t!”
His face was slack as he stared up from below.
My voice was loud in this big, empty house. “It’s one thing for you to get away, or to take some time or whatever, but to cut me off completely?”
“I’m sorry.”
I barely heard his whispered apology. “I didn’t even know if you were okay. I woke up to paramedics and pain and you were nowhere! I didn’t even know if Joanie was okay, and you were NOWHERE!”
“I made sure she was okay. I left her with Nick—”
“THAT’S NOT THE SAME AND YOU KNOW IT, SEAN!”
“I know, and—”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why did you do it?”
His eyes filled with pain. “You were hurt, Libby.”