Page 41

Finally he checked the messages from his ex. He couldn’t imagine what she had to say that could take eleven messages. He was afraid to find out because Mandi was good at creating drama.

But he assured himself that it was fine. They were divorced. The paperwork was signed and dried. He didn’t have to let himself get caught in her nonsense.

Mandi: Why won’t you talk to me?

Mandi: Remember how we used to lay in the dark and talk half of the night?

What was wrong with her? Did she forget that she’d been the one who broke their wedding vows? And why all of the sudden was she being so friendly, especially after their contentious divorce?

Mandi: You need to take my calls. It could be important. What if something happened to me? Wouldn’t you care?

He sighed. He was going to get eye strain if he rolled his eyes any harder. He stopped reading the messages. She was no longer his problem.

He slipped his phone into his back pocket before he turned out the lights. On his way back to his room, he noticed a soft glow from the second floor. He stopped. Had he forgotten to turn off the lights when he brought down the last box?

That must be it. So, he made his way upstairs. The attic door was hanging wide open, and as he peered inside, he realized more than just the light at the top of the stairs was on. Now he knew that something wasn’t right because those lights hadn’t been on earlier.

Thunk!

“No. No. No!” It was Leah’s voice.

Shaun charged up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the top, he stopped and glanced around. There were so many boxes and racks of clothes that he couldn’t see the whole way around the attic.

He started walking. His head was on a swivel. And then he spotted her. She was on the other side of the attic. She was turned away from him.

He took long, quick strides to reach her. “Leah, what’s wrong?”

When she turned to him, he saw the tears tracking down her cheeks. It broke his heart. In that moment, he wanted to do whatever it took to fix the problem. He gave her a quick once-over. He didn’t see an injury. But it could be something he couldn’t see.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He did the one thing he could do to comfort her. He reached out to her. He didn’t know how she’d react, but when he drew her toward him, she followed his lead.

And then she was leaning into him. He enjoyed the slight pressure of her weight pressed against his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her tears seeped into his shirt.

He wanted to ask what had her so upset, but his questions would have to wait. He gently rubbed her back. All the while he replayed their evening, trying to figure out if he’d said something or done something to upset her this much. He couldn’t think of anything. In fact, he thought they’d left things on a good note—a very good note.

She pulled back and swiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get your shirt wet.”

“I’m not worried about my shirt, but I am worried about you. What’s going on?”

“It’s my mother.”

He was confused. “I thought your mom passed.”

Leah nodded. “She did.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“Maybe I should start at the beginning. Growing up in California, I had no extended family. It was just me and my mom. When I asked about my dad or my grandparents, she just said they were gone. I thought she meant they were dead. But as I got older, I wanted to know more about my father, but she refused to talk about him. She wouldn’t even tell me his name. I was a teenager then, and my mother’s refusal to tell me anything about my father created a wedge between us. The older I got, the angrier I got. The final straw was when I finished college, and I’d applied for my passport. I needed information to complete the application, and my mother still wouldn’t tell me anything. I hated that she was keeping my past from me. I told her if she wasn’t honest with me that I wasn’t going to speak to her. I couldn’t figure out what she was hiding from me. It hurt a lot that she wouldn’t talk to me. When, uh... When the accident happened, we hadn’t spoken in more than three years. I felt awful. I regretted taking such a hard line with her. In the end, she never opened up, and we wasted time we could have spent together.” Her head hung low, as though the pressure of the past weighed heavy on her.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Her gaze rose and met his. “Why wouldn’t she talk to me?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t even have a guess. “When I went to see why the lights were on up here, I heard you yell no. What upset you?”