Chapter 12

Richie woke alone in the bed. He wasn’t surprised. He glanced at the clock, she probably left already he thought. He sat and up and scrubbed his hand over his face. What was he going to do about her? He felt the familiar tug in his gut that he always used to get when he thought about her. Could he win her over again? Could they make it work this time? Would she have him back? Getting out of bed he decided that he was going to do his damnedest to prove to her that he was not the same guy he was all those years ago. He had changed, knew what he wanted now.

Richie could hear the talking and laughter as he approached the kitchen. He stopped and just listened. It had been a long time since there was this kind of noise in his house. He moved to the doorway and took in the scene. His friends, brothers really, were all seated at his table and, glancing around, Leana was standing with her back to him at the stove. The smell of coffee drew him into the room. Jon looked up just as Richie crossed to the coffee pot. “Mornin’ man.” Dave piped up “bout time you got your lazy ass outta bed.” Richie just smiled at both of them and reached for a coffee cup.

Leana knew he was there. Had known the minute he walked in the room, but didn’t know if she could face him. True, she had only slept in his bed with him, but that didn’t make the morning after any easier. She finished up and brought the pan of eggs to the table, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. The guys ate and Leana cleaned up the mess she had made. She finished and walked over to the table, grabbing an apple out of the bowl on the counter on the way. “Hey” Richie asked, “aren’t you going to join us?” She shook her head as she bit into the apple. He watched as she went outside and sat down in one of the chairs. The next time Richie glanced outside, she was gone.

Leana walked back home, not having said good bye to any of them. She was too out of sorts and needed time to make sense of everything she was feeling. It was too much to take in all at once. She tried to work out her confusion while running on her treadmill and when that didn’t work she tried punching it out on her heavy bag. Panting, she rested her forehead against the bag. She wanted him, wanted to try again. I must be ten kinds of crazy she thought. Why do I want to open myself to that kind of pain again? Then again, what if, just what if it was different this time. Surely they had both changed in 20 years time and maybe it could work this time. Do I want to risk not knowing? They needed to talk, but she didn’t want to go to him. She had done that last night. It was time for him to come to her.