Page 86 of Ladybirds

Sara swallows thickly, regret heavy on her heart. “I’m sorry, David.” She stares at him, urging him to believe it. “I really am. But… I’ve moved on.”

He stares back at her, mouth parted, before shaking his head. “So, what? You’re not even going to try?”

“I did try,” she reminds him. “I tried for weeks.”

“That wasn’t—I didn’t remember!”

“I know,” she says, voice soft. “But, David… it still happened. Whether you remembered or not, that doesn’t just erase everything I went through.” She stares at him. “Did you really expect me to just sit here and wait for you?”

He doesn’t get it though, she can tell by the slap of his expensive shoes against the floor as he paces her living room, by the way his hands fist at his sides. “I can’t believe this,” he growls, face twisted. “I didn’t think you’d be so selfish.”

Sara thinks of what Miles has always insisted—that David has never wanted for anything—and sees what he was trying to warn her of. David was everything she could have wanted in a boyfriend, but only because she was everything he wanted from her. The moment she didn’t live up to his expectation, the second he didn’t get what he felt he was owed, this is the type of response she’d get.

A tantrum.

She shakes her head, disappointment making her heart ache. “I think you should leave now.”

He stills, has the nerve to be surprised. Maybe he thought his accusations would encourage a change of heart. A year ago, maybe they would have. “Sara—”

“Now, please.”

He stares at her, as if he’s turning the words over and over in his head. His expression softens, a scowl transforming into a wince. “I’m sorry.”

There’s regret lacing his voice, quiet as it is. Sara doesn’t have any problem believing them. “I know.” The words, but I still need you to leave go unsaid, but he must read them in her expression.

He doesn’t slam the door on his way out, but Sara locks the deadbolt behind him, anyway. Just in case.

Seth is laying on her bed, his fingers idly stroking the cat curled up against his neck. Ansel is purring so loudly, Sara can hear it from the doorway. Seth can probably feel the vibrations. She smiles at the sight, but when Seth doesn’t acknowledge her, Sara’s heart plummets at the thought of him being upset with her too. Then she notices the shape of her earbuds perched in his ears, her phone in his hand. She’s too relieved to wonder when he figured out the password.

“Seth?”

He starts, blindly reaching for the earbuds and flinching when the movement pulls at his chest. Ansel mewls pathetically at being jostled, but only puts his head between his paws and goes back to his nap. The apologetic scratch Seth gives him behind his ear probably helps. “Sorry. I thought—” He grimaces, making a wide gesture with his free hand. “Well, the walls are rather thin.”

“Oh.” She shifts, chewing her bottom lip anxiously. “Um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

His expression darkens, gaze falling to the earbuds in his palm. “Yes, I’m afraid I did.” Clearing his throat, he holds the pieces out to her. “Apologies, but I was mostly certain you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t,” she assures him, taking them gingerly. “What were you listening to?”

“Music, but honestly I’m not always convinced your generation understands the meaning of the word.”

She rolls her eyes, taking her phone from his other hand to see what’s currently playing. When she sees the artists, she blinks—legitimately surprised. “Dolly Parton?”

“The world is undeserving of her talents.”

Sara bites back a smile. “I never would have pinned you as a fan of bluegrass.”

“It’s not the genre,” he says, eyes lingering on her phone. “It’s her voice.”

She can’t argue there.

Fingering the neckline of her pajamas, she shifts her weight. “Anyway, I’m going to get dressed and get going. I shouldn’t be gone too long, though.”

“Ah,” he says. Sara can’t help but notice the weight hiding behind his thinly disguised indifference and the way his gaze seems to drop away from her. “Going to lunch with some friends, are you?”

Somehow, she knows it isn’t quite what he’s asking. Eyebrows raised, she says, “I’m picking up your antibiotics. Also, we need food. And you need clothes.”

He blinks, glances down at himself as if just realizing he has literally nothing else to wear. “Oh.”

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