Page 170 of Where Roads Lead

“Elsie, who is this?” I was uneasy and suddenly desperate to know the full story. There were missing pieces I hadn’t even known I needed.

“Will, please,” she shut her eyes, “just go. I can handle this.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with some guy, Els.” I stared at her, stunned. “If you want privacy, I’ll go in the other room, but—”

“I think you should listen to her.” The bastard turned his condescending gaze on me, as if he were entitled to her time or energy or conversation.

I hated him. Not just because he’d had some part of her before I ever knew she existed, but because it was clear from the way she curled in on herself that he’d clearly done a number on her.

“Elsie, if you want him to leave, I can make him leave,” I told her, desperate to save her from this situation.

“I don’t know who you are,” he narrowed his condescending gaze on me, “but you really have no business being here.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” I said, feeling like the word was wildly insignificant to describe what she was to me.

“Yeah. Okay.” He snorted.

“Will, please,” Elsie pleaded.

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked him.

“It means, if you are for some reason seeing each other, it’s hardly the relationship of the century. You’ve known her, what, three months?” Andrew says. “I’ve known her for twenty-three years. I was going to marry her.”

“And clearly, you never knew her at all,” I fumed. “Or else you wouldn’t have been able to walk away.”

“Elspeth,” he looked only at her, apparently deciding to disregard me completely, “ask your friend to leave. You and I have grown-up things to discuss.”

“Elsie, come on,” I pleaded. “You don’t have to stand here and talk to this guy.”

In fact, I wanted to insist that she didn’t. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. I didn’t even need to hear her story about what went wrong in Boston.

One look at this guy, and the entire story was written across his arrogant face.

Elsie and rich pricks weren’t ever going to be a match.

But instead of sending him back to his Mercedes where he belonged, Elsie turned to me with an apologetic look.

“No, Elsie,” I said, already knowing where she was going with it. “Please don’t.”

“I have to talk to him, Will. Please, just go home. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

I rubbed a hand across my face, hopeless and dejected. What could I say? No? I wanted to. But I’d never do that to her.

Even though I could tell she wanted to have a conversation with this guy just about as much as I wanted to leave.

But it was her choice.

I could only hope she’d make the right one.

“I’ll call you later,” she promised.

“Don’t call me later. Just come over,” I told her, needing to know that everything would be okay.

She just gave me a half-hearted smile, leaving me no choice but to make the walk back toward the truck alone.

I sat there long enough to watch the two of them walk into her house together, with the door shutting decidedly closed behind them.

I drove home right after.