“She’s such a mess, Leif. You should hear her breathing. It rattles. Her cough,” I say, but get choked up. “I don’t want to upset you. I’m sure you have enough to worry about without adding this to your list.”
“Malena, stop. Let’s try to talk about something happy. Brighten the mood a bit,” he says, face firm, no smile. “You know I don’t mind anything that has to do with you. That includes your mother.”
“I just…miss you,” I say, crying. It’s not pretty, it’s jagged and steals my breath. “I wish you were here to hug me.”
“I’d do a lot more than hug you if I were there,” he counters, his lips tipping up in the corner. “Time is flying by. I’ll be home before you know it.”
I want to tell him right now. He can make plans to stay in San Diego, where he’s happy and unhindered, but my pride won’t let me quite yet.
“Listen, I wanted to call you to tell you I love you and that your mom is going to be okay. Eva emailed me today and told me I needed to call her as soon as I got her note, and it’s late, and I want to give her a call and make sure everything is okay before it gets even later. I will call you tomorrow.”
My heart sinks. “That’s fine. I love you too.”
“Chin up,” he says. “Better yet, tits out.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m not in the mood for that right now.”
“Fine. Fine. Malena?”
“Yeah?”
“Look out the window.” I wander to the front door and open it up as far as it will go. The wind has picked up, and it blows a sprinkling of rain around. “You’re my night sky, baby.” The stars shine bright, twinkling reminders of what I’ll never have. I think about where my ring lies, over in the corner of my bedroom.
“Always,” I reply.
“Goodbye, Malena,” Leif says, then ends the call.
I stand outside, letting the little raindrops sting my skin like flying needles. The pain clears my foggy mind, and I subconsciously bring one hand to my stomach.
Goodbye, Leif,I think.
FIFTEEN
Leif
“Are you on your computer?”Eva asks. “I refuse to tell you anything until you’re sitting down and looking at your computer.”
“All right, all right. Don’t be such a bossy bitch.”
She sighs. “You’re going to be eating those words in mere seconds,” she says, her tone strained. “Pull up your messenger. I need to send a few things,” Eva adds.
Irritation is all I feel at having to cut my phone call short with Malena for whatever trivial bullshit Eva wants me to see. Her screen name is darkened, signaling she’s sending something, and an image pops up in our message on the secure server. I double-click to open it.
And lose my breath. It’s Malena, clear as day, as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her, except there’s a man hugging her around her waist, kneeling on the ground. It’s obvious Eva took this photo while on some sister reconnaissance mission because of the angle and the distance. Another photo pops up on the screen, and it’s an image of Malena and this asshole talking, their facesclose, and emotion spilling into the air between them. My throat feels full as my heart begins to hammer. A blind red rage clouds my vision.
“What the fuck, Eva?” I say into my phone.
Eva makes a little noise, and I think it might be because she regrets what she needs to say, and that says something because Eva regrets nothing. “Celia called me to tell me about her mom being sick, Leif. You have to understand I didn’t plan on following her. She was pulling out of her road. I could see she was crying, and I followed her because I was worried. Okay? It was about forty-five miles to some bum hick town in the middle of nowhere.”
My heavy breathing is the only response I give her.
“I parked across the street at a little gas station to fill up my car, assuming she was getting her car fixed or something because it was a mechanic shop. It seemed weird to drive that far away if her car was broken, but she came out right away, this guy behind her. They had this heated conversation and I…” Eva trails off. “Just knew something was between them. Body language and their facial features. Everything. It was intimate in nature, even if Malena seemed upset.”
I enlarge the photo and confirm everything she’s saying. It’s awkward, like I’m looking at someone else’s love story. “Who is he?” I ask, only because I know Eva wouldn’t come to me with just photos. She is a fucking FBI agent when it comes to shit like this. I think it’s why she gets on so well in Bronze Bay. “Dylan Bowers,” she says. “Leif.”
“What?” I ask, running a hand through my hair as I remember the first time I met Ms. Winterset and she called me Dylan. “Stop beating around the bush. Just fucking say it out loud. What else do you know?”
“They were married.”
