Page 19 of Willowbrooke
My entire life fit into my car.
I felt humiliated.
I felt defeated.
I felt so small.
With little awareness of my surroundings, I just started driving. Running through everything that had happened, everything that I needed to do to find a way out of the mess I had created, and everything that had been taken from me.
I lost time as I drove.
As consciousness returned to me, I found that I was pulling into the long driveway to Willowbrooke. It was almost midnight, and I had no recollection of how I’d gotten back to where it all started.
Not wanting anyone to see me, I turned my headlights off as I approached the roundabout in front of the house and parked the car on the very edge of the driveway, hoping that in the dark, nobody would notice it overnight. It was so late, but I could still see lights on in the house.
I was debating if it would be a better idea to sleep inmy car or try to locate a motel I could afford nearby for the night, when I was startled by the passenger door opening.
Leo West slid into the passenger seat, casting the car back into darkness as the door closed behind him, extinguishing the dash light.
We sat in silence for ages.
The only sounds were our breathing, and my occasional sniffling. I couldn’t even look at Leo; I just stared at the steering wheel in a daze, wondering if I was imagining him next to me. And if he was really there, why wasn’t he giving me a piece of his mind for going into the solarium against his order and then having the audacity to return, when he had been quite clear about me leaving the premises?
Leo’s coat rustled as he nervously adjusted his long legs in my compact car. I heard him sigh before he spoke, his voice soft, “I’m sorry.”
I froze, eyes still trained on the steering wheel.
“I was completely out of line,” he continued quietly but sincerely. “I was wrong to raise my voice with you. I couldn’t—I wasn’t in my right mind…” he trailed off.
I remained silent.
I hadn’t been expecting an apology.
I had been expecting he would demand one from me.
“I should have listened to you, instead of flying off the handle. I regretted everything the moment you were out of sight—you left so quickly, I—I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I made you cry.” The words seemed to physically pain him, notbecause he didn’t want to say them, but because they were true. He was remorseful.
“I’m not proud of myself—of my reaction. I deeply regret how I handled the situation—how awful I must have made you feel. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I hope you can forgive me.” He sighed, as if asking for my forgiveness was too much for him to hope for.
Still stunned at the turn of events, and reeling from all that had happened, not just at Willowbrooke, I found it easy to offer my forgiveness. “I’m sorry too.” I winced as my voice cracked. “Margot told me why you keep it closed—why you can’t bear to be in there.” I hoped I wouldn’t get her in trouble.
Leo nodded solemnly.
“I let curiosity get the best of me. I should have just shut the door and told you what happened when you got back instead of investigating.”
“Wait—the door—it really was open?” Leo sounded confused.
I chanced a glance over to him in the dark; only the dim light of the crescent moon illuminated the outline of his features. “Yes, and the curtains too. Someone opened all of them. I was trying to close them when you found me.”
Leo’s jaw clenched. “I keep the solarium locked.”
“Did you think I went snooping around your room looking for a key?” I half laughed, but stopped when I realized that was exactly what he’d thought. “I didn’t evenknow the door was locked because I haven’t gone near it—or your bedroom—in the last two months, at your explicit request. I wouldneverdo that to you.”
“I know that,” Leo sighed. “I just saw red—my behavior was inexcusable—”
“I forgive you.” I reached out, gently resting my palm on Leo’s arm, but retracted it almost immediately when his eyes met mine in question.
A tense silence enveloped us again. But hope began to bloom in my chest. All was not lost.
