Page 79 of The Run Back Home

But the resentment and bitterness bubbling up inside me can't be stopped from pouring over.

"Why'd you run out?" I blurt, finally needing to know.

Lenny's throat moves up and down. "I, uh, just needed some air."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Bullshit," I spit back, surprising us both.

Her face twists. "What?"

"You heard me." I shove both hands into the pockets of my jeans, not allowing myself to temper whatever it might be that comes next. "I call bullshit, Lenny."

"I—"

"On all of it," I continue. "On you needing air, on you absentmindedly shopping for me at the goddamn grocery store."

Her mouth drops open, but I don't give her a chance to respond.

Not yet.

"Bullshit on this little charade we have going where we run into each other and act like everything is normal between us—everything is not fucking normal between us."

"Jace, I…" Her voice trails off as her eyes flick back and forth between me and the concrete like she's looking for some more solid ground to stand on.

"What happened, Lenny?" I ask.

She looks at me, eyes strong, tight mouth, until everything collapses. "I saw you follow that woman behind the curtain."

I run my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip and huff out a laugh. "I don't mean upstairs," I admit, holding her gaze.

Her lips part, then slam shut, then do it all again.

"What happened back then? To us?"

The seconds crawl as the pit in my stomach grows deeper and deeper.

Lenny's face flushes, her breaths growing shorter and quicker as time goes on.

"Just say it," I press.

She shakes her head slowly, looking toward the sky.

"Come on, Lenny. Six years later and you still can't—"

"I couldn't leave!" she yells. "Is that what you want to hear?"

I press my lips together, my heart hammering inside my chest.

"Do you want me to tell you that I was scared, Jace? To meet you at CMU?" she continues. "Because I was. I was scared. Scared to leave my suffocating family and my stupid little small-town you hated so much."

Her voice cracks on the last word, like it costs her something to say it out loud.

"You could have just said that," I grind out.

"I couldn't."

"You could have said fucking anything then. Instead of just… disappearing."

She blows out a breath. "I didn't disappear."