“You call me lady in that tone again, it’s your balls that won’t be coming back.”
They were done. The conversation had gone so far south a GPS couldn’t pull it back now. He turned and went out her front door, resisting the urge to slam it, and got into his truck. That door he did slam.
He sat there for a minute trying to think of something—anything—he could say to make it better, but all he could hear was her voice thundering through his head, telling him he had no right to interfere with her family. Basically telling him he didn’t belong there.
So he threw his truck in reverse and left.
Chapter Eighteen
How she’d managed to keep it together until Nick had gotten home from school and then been picked up by Dean, she didn’t know. Willpower. Anger. Shock.
While Nick was grabbing his bag and trying to find the book he’d checked out of the library for a book report he needed to work on over the weekend, she’d walked out to Dean’s car.
“Don’t say anything to Nick about the conversation you had with Ryan.”
He looked up at her through the open window, reading her face. They’d been married so long he didn’t miss much. “I told him you wouldn’t be happy he’d talked to me first.”
“He shouldn’t have done that.”
“Nick’s my son, Lauren. How I feel about my kid going to live in a different state matters.”
“I know it does. But we hadn’t had that conversation yet. He should have talked to me and let me talk to Nick first.”
“Maybe. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t and, once her son was safely out of the emotional fallout zone, the wall of willpower, anger and shock imploded and she crumpled into a sobbing mess. It hurt so much, and all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and cry until Sunday afternoon.
She might have done just that if the phone hadn’t rung. For one heart-stopping, hope-filled moment, she’d thought it was Ryan. But the number on the caller ID was her mother’s and she didn’t answer it. Her mother would know something was wrong and push until she got the whole story. Then she’d tell her father and there would be yelling and swearing in a mix of English and Polish and Lauren wasn’t in the mood for it.
But she also couldn’t totally fall apart, so she called Hailey. Hailey would be a good shoulder to lean on until she got her own strength back.
“Are you busy tonight?” she asked when Hailey answered.
“I was going to paint my toenails. You sound stuffy. Have you been crying or are you getting that cold again?”
“Ryan and I are done.” Saying the words out loud took her breath away.
“Oh, shit. I’ll be right there, okay? Do you want me to call Paige?”
“No. She said it was already awkward because he’s her brother-in-law now. And she’s always so reasonable. I don’t want reasonable. I want you to tell me what an awful bastard Ryan Kowalski is and how lucky I am to be rid of him now instead of later.”
Hailey was quiet for a few seconds. “I’ll try my best. Give me fifteen or twenty minutes and I’ll be there.”
It was closer to twenty-five, but since Lauren spent most of them curled up on the couch, sobbing into a massive wad of tissues, she wasn’t really counting. Hailey let herself in, holding up a brown paper bag.
“Is that booze?” As crappy as her head felt already, Lauren was pretty sure alcohol was the last thing she needed.
Hailey tipped the paper bag over the coffee table and let the contents spill out. A whole pile of individually wrapped cream-filled chocolate snack cakes. “Tell me everything.”
She managed to get through the story with a minimum of tears. Crying would seriously interfere with her ability to console herself with junk food.
“I can’t believe he went to Dean like that,” Hailey said. “What an awful bastard.”
Lauren almost choked on her mouthful of cream and chocolate. “You’re not very good at that.”
“Sorry. I’m trying because I love you and I’m heartbroken for you, but he’s a pretty great guy, so this isn’t easy. Although, he should have talked to you first and let you handle Dean.”
“He also thinks I can just up and leave everything. This is my home. I have a job.”
“I get the home part.”
“If I move to Brookline I’ll have to find a new job in a strange city in this economy.”
“Remembering the part where I said I love you, I have to point out that you’re the secretary at a one-man insurance company and Ryan owns a multimillion-dollar construction company.”
“So? Does that make him more important than me?”
“Of course not. But in terms of practicality, logic and common sense, it makes his job more important than yours.”
“If I wanted practicality, logic and common sense, I would have called Paige.”