Page 32 of Eight Days of Christmas
“Why’d you do it?”
Isabella’s palms began to sweat, and her heart raced. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping Mom would come to save her now. She couldn’t offer him an explanation, not one that he’d be happy with. What she had to tell him wouldn’t ease the pain.
Tears clogged in her throat. Isabella pathetically shrugged a shoulder.
“Why’d you leave me?”
The words coming from Leo’s mouth, in his grown-up voice dug under her ribcage.
She swallowed. “I didn’t leave you, Leo. I just…I just never came back.”
Leo stabbed his fingers through his hair. Through those dark brown, sexy, longish waves. “I don’t see much of a difference,” he growled.
Her eyes burned. “I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” She distracted herself by running a thumb along the chipping paint on the windowsill, willing herself not to cry. “I guess I assumed you’d move on.”
“I did.”
“Yeah, I know.” She pursed her lips. “When was the divorce final?”
“A year ago this past March.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Yeah? For what? What exactly are you sorry for, Izzy?”
“For that.” She hesitated, the tears stinging the back of her eyes, just waiting to break free and rush out once she was all alone. “For us. For everything.”
“Yeah?” He sighed and hung his head, killing her with the agonizing silence for a beat that seemed to last a lifetime. “After six years of silence, don’t you think I deserve a better explanation than that?”
“You do. I’m just not ready to give it to you yet.”
Leo shook his head slowly. “Fine.”
He slammed the window shut and released the blinds.
She flinched, her eyes filling with tears and her heart aching like it was breaking all over again. Just like it had all those years ago. And there was that irony again. Because there she was, in her childhood room where her heart had pumped only for Leo.
Chapter Ten
Isabella
Wakingup to the sound of Leo’s expressive laugh wafting through the entire house would’ve been spectacular—if Isabella had chosen a different life. Or maybe even manageable, if the two of them hadn’t undergone that dreadfully uncomfortable conversation the night before. It was too early for mayhem.
She hadn’t even had coffee yet.
Finding an old Ithaca College sweatshirt in her suitcase, she pulled it over her head before pushing her feet into a pair of red fuzzy slippers. The sweatshirt didn’t match her reindeer-printed flannel pajama pants, but she was too tired to care. She trudged down the stairs cursing under her breath and wiping the sleep from her eyes. The scent of cinnamon swirled throughout the house. Between the glorious smell and the memory of the sweet and spice of Mom’s cinnamon rolls on her tongue, she almost gave up on being annoyed that Leo was there.
Almost.
A canvas on the wall in the hallway snagged Isabella’s attention. She doubled back to take a closer look. She recognized the picturesque setting easily. Blue River in wintertime, with thick, white snow covering the ground and rocks while ice coated the branches of the surrounding trees. While admiring Leo’s talent, Isabella drifted back to a time of young love, when she and Leo would get up early and crunch through the thick snow just so he could get the perfect shot of the Blue River waking up.
“Hey, there’s the sleepyhead,” Dad called in singsong from the kitchen. “Everyone is already up and eating breakfast. We gotta get a move on. Day two awaits.”
She tore her focus away from the canvas and covered a yawn with a cupped hand. It was too early for singsong. She lumbered into the kitchen, her heavy-lidded eyes widening as she took in Leo seated at the table with her entire family. His dark hair sweeping across his forehead, a brow lifted and his eyes lingering as he took in her appearance.
Ava jumped off her chair and flung herself into Isabella’s unexpectant arms. “Finally, Auntie Izzy. Hurry! It’s Christmas tree day!” She raced out of the room, her sleepy mom chasing after her.
Isabella shuffled past Landon and Norah sitting at the island, taking the last open wooden barstool and slumping onto it.
