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When dawn broke the next day, Leandro noticed the difference. He noticed a change inside the core of his being. A feeling that he was more like himself than he’d been since discovering the truth. Telling Max and Andie had unlocked a part of him, or maybe it was their reassurance that had done that. Or perhaps it was Skye’s reassurance? If he hadn’t spoken to Skye first, would he have told Max the truth? Or would he have still been too wounded to open up to anyone?
Had Skye been the key to this change?
Was it possible that in telling her, he’d begun to push the weight off his shoulders and feel more and more like himself?
Suddenly, he wanted to see her. He wanted to see her so much it hurt.
He reached for his phone and dialed her number, stalking his room impatiently while he waited for it to connect.
“Hey,” he said, as soon as she answered.
“Leandro.” Her voice was soft. “How are you?”
He hesitated. How could he even answer that? He couldn’t. Not over the phone. “Are you free?”
“I’m spending the day with Harper.”
“Can I come over?”
Silence.
He held his breath.
He waited.
Something strange edged through him. Feelings he didn’t recognize. Darkness and light, a sense of contrast, a feeling of floating and sinking. He gripped the phone more tightly.
“Are you okay?”
“Si, cara. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
He could practically hear her thinking. “I’m taking her to the playground after breakfast. Do you want to meet us there?”
It was a compromise.
She was reserved.
The night before, she’d invited him for dinner, and now she was putting some space between them. He didn’t think about why. It didn’t matter. He was starting to feel more like himself, and the Leandro of old focused on how to get what he wanted.
“Text me the address. I’ll bring coffee.”
When Leandro arrived a little while later, he had two coffees, a juice box and a paper bag stamped with the logo of a famous Manhattan bakery.
Skye’s whole body reacted to the sight of him. Her stomach fluttered and her blood rushed, her eyes stared, her lips parted, her fingers clamped together, her knees wobbled, even her toes seemed to tingle. But she stood where she was, pushing Harper on the baby swing, one Bluetooth earphone in as she listened to a podcast.
He strode with purpose towards her, but when Harper saw him, she clapped her little hands together with obvious delight. “Leo! Leo!” Then turning to look at Skye, “Down! Down, mama!”
Skye’s heart exploded with love. “Okay, baby. One second.” She tussled Harper’s hair then lifted her from the seat, placing her on the ground. She ran quickly across the grass, almost tripping over a sausage dog that had ambled into her path. She threw her arms around Leandro’s legs and beamed up at him, so Leandro returned her smile in a way that made Skye’s heart thump.
For a moment, she imagined what it would have been like for this to be real.
For her to have been part of a family. A loving dad, a husband—a true partner. Not someone who wanted to control her, as Jay had, but a partner who really wanted what was best for her. Who adored her, and adored Harper. She imagined having someone to share her worries with, to talk to about anything and everything, to help with Harper when she was tired—someone other than her parents, whom she felt guilty for imposing upon. Not that they ever complained, but that didn’t stop Skye from feeling bad.
Leandro looked over at her and when he smiled now, Skye’s whole body turned to mush. She almost melted into the grass.
Get a grip.
He wasn’t her boyfriend, he wasn’t Harper’s dad, this wasn’t real. Or at least, it wasn’t real in the sense of forever and ever. Even if she wanted that—which she didn’t—Leandro wasn’t offering it. And she was glad. It was just her and Harper against the world, when it came down to it. That was safe. That was real.
