“There was a voicemail that night in the hospital. When we called your parents. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” My voice trembles as I wrap my arms around myself, dropping his hand in the process.
“Sorry Rich. I didn’t see that you had called. What’s going on?” He’s watching me out of the corner of his eyes but his expression is unreadable. There’s no choice but to wait with a heavy stomach as Cruz listens intently. “The calls were coming from Colby Miller’s ex-girlfriend? What did she want?”
I replay my decision to clear the notification from his phone back in my head. I was just trying to protect him, give him a chance to heal. There was still so much uncertainty around his injury. The doctor’s felt strongly enough about it to take the precautions of keeping him overnight and gave us a laundry list of things that could still go wrong. My decision to remove that stressor felt like it was the right thing to do at the moment. Now I’m not so sure. How did I let it get this out of hand?
“Hold on. She what?” Cruz’s face blanches. Running his hands through his hair he looks at me with a vacant expression. “Why would she say that?” His voice cracks and the sound breaks me.
Oh god. I can see the grief closing in around him. Taking the leash from his hand I wrap him in my arms. His heart is hammering in under my ear. I would give anything to take his pain away.
He’s silent as he listens to Rich on the other end of the phone. Nodding every so often.
“Thanks Rich. Let me know when it’s set up,” Cruz says, before he ends the call.
He slides the phone back into his pocket and I lead him back towards the bench. He drops limply onto the metal seat letting his head fall to his hands. I crouch in front of him, my hands on his knees.
“Miller’s ex-girlfriend was the person that kept calling from St. Louis. She thinks he had something to do with Jarrett’s accident that night.”
“Wh—what?” I say, scrambling to understand what’s happening. “Did you know her?”
He shakes his head as he looks to where the dogs have settled at our feet. “No, I think they had just started dating at that point. We were never close.”
“How’d she get your number?” It’s an odd thing to fixate on, but I’m struggling to wrap my head around what’s happening.
“She worked at the stadium and had access to everyone’s information. She held onto it, they broke up recently and she told Rich she didn’t feel right not telling someone her suspicions.”
“Did she tell him what she thought happened?”
His eyes find mine for the first time since he hung up the phone. “Rich is going to set up a meeting with her. If she seems credible, then we will figure it out from there. It could be going back to the police. He couldn’t say for sure without hearing her side of the story.”
“Why don’t we take the dogs back? I’ll drive you home and we can talk more if you want to. Or I can leave.”
“Leave? Why would you leave Delilah?” he asks, covering my hands with his.
“I thought—you’re not mad? I kept this from you. I didn’t tell you about the missed call.”
He cups my cheek with his hand. “I’m confused, a little shocked, but not mad. I’m sure you had your reasons. You’ve never done anything to hurt me and I don’t think you’d start now. Let’s go home and you can tell me what happened.”
“Okay.” I stand on wobbly legs, fighting back the tears that are building behind my eyelids. Cruz reaches over, taking the leashes from me and tucking me under his arm as we walk back to the shelter. “These guys kind of got the short end of the stick. That wasn’t a very good walk.”
“I think they’ll manage. Besides, I have a feeling they’ll find a home soon.” He kisses my temple and I feel him smile but it doesn’t reach his voice. He just sounds drained and I hate myself for the role I played in that.
Chapter 35
What Now?
Present
We drop the dogs back off and thank Simone before I drive us back home to Cruz’s apartment. As soon as we get inside he takes my hand and pulls me towards the couch. Without letting go he sits, tugging me into his lap.
“We should heat up some dinner,” I say, letting my head drop to his shoulder. I’m procrastinating the conversation I know needs to happen. But I don’t make any effort to leave my spot cuddled against his chest.
“We will. But tell me what happened at the hospital. I have a feeling you need to tell me more than I need to know.”
Cruz has always made me feel safe. He would do anything for me and his trust in me might just be the greatest testament to how accepted I feel with him. My chest loosens and I breathe easier than I have since his phone rang earlier this evening.
The words just start to pour out of me. “There were a bunch of notifications after we got to the hospital and the doctor had just finished telling us all the things that could still go wrong and why they were keeping you for observation. I was terrified that you weren’t really out of the woods yet. I just wanted to buy you a little time before you had to deal with anything.” He listens intently, rubbing my back as I tell him everything. “There was a voicemail from Rich that caught my eye. I cleared the notification and planned to tell you about it once things were more certain with your health. I knew if you saw that he called, you wouldn’t be able to drop it.”
His voice is calm; there’s no judgment or accusation in it when he says, “You were trying to protect me from myself. Why didn’t you tell me about them when we got home?” There’s that word again. Home. There hasn’t been a moment since we got back from St. Louis that I’ve missed my place or wanted to leave his side.
