He pulled the door open and searched the parking lot, but she was nowhere to be found. He didn't even know what car her and Max had arrived in or where they'd parked.
He shivered in the cold and kept walking, searching to see if he could find them, when a raindrop hit his face. He looked upat the grey sky as the freezing cold drops started coming down more quickly, hitting him in the face.
"Are you okay?"
Antonio lifted his head and turned to find Fran standing next to him, concern marring her face. He shook his head, and her hand came down on his forearm.
He pulled away from her. "Why are you here, Fran?"
Her head pulled back. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," she said.
He shook his head again. He had purposely not called her because he hadn't wanted to see or talk to her. Maria must have misinterpreted. But that was on him. He should have told Maria about Cara.
Why hadn't he?
Fran's eyebrows bunched together. "You gave me that impression at the hospital. You told me you wanted to work things out."
He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair.
"Tonio," Fran said, her face soft now. "Maria said you were moving into a new apartment this weekend and… and, well, I just broke up with Blake, so I was thinking…" She trailed off, looking down at her high-heeled leather boots.
Antonio’s jaw tightened as his teeth clenched together. "Thinking what?"
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I wanted to see if you'd rather come home."
He stared for a moment, almost unable to believe she was saying what she was saying. But once he processed her words, a deep anger roiled inside of him.
He was so pissed. At her. And at himself.
This was everything he'd wanted since he'd first packed his bags and left. Until about three weeks ago.
He'd hated being away from her. Hated his apartment. Hated being a divorced guy. Hated being alone. Hated the looks of pity his family would give him. Hated being a disappointment to his mother.
Now his soon-to-be ex-wife was changing her mind, and he felt nothing but boiling hot, blinding rage, and he didn't know what to do about it.
"Tonio," Fran said, peeking up at the sky.
He didn’t even feel the icy rain pelting down—it was as if his body had gone numb to everything but the moment.
"We have to get out of this rain," she said. "Come home. We’ll talk about it."
Home.
He stared at her and could feel his lip curl in anger. "Yeah," he said, "we definitely need to talk."
She turned toward her car, and he followed.
twenty-seven
Cara reefed open the car door before Max brought the car to a full stop in front of Monroe Manor. Shockingly, he'd respected her wishes to drive in silence, but she knew she wouldn't be able to put him off forever.
But she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. All she wanted was to be alone in her room, under her covers, where she could release all the pent-up sadness and tension and just cry. She wondered how long it would take to get over Antonio. Would twenty-four hours do it?
Unlikely.
She might as well admit defeat now and jump straight to the thirty-six-hour protocol.
She exited the car, slammed the door behind her, and made a beeline for the front door through the freezing rain. If she could at least rid herself of the image of Antonio in that hallway with his head hung low, regret etched in his features, she might have a chance at getting over it.