Coming Home

“Is it a love letter?” Robyn asked. “Do a dramatic reading!”

Leah laughed as Holly shook her head. “Not a love letter. Too heavy,” she said, reaching her hand in and pulling out a stack of pictures. She plopped down between Leah and Robyn on the couch as she started flipping through them.

The first one was of Leah and Scott at the beach the summer they first met. She was sitting in between his legs on their towel, leaning back against his chest and smiling as he kissed her cheek. The next one was the two of them at the baseball field where Scott played with his team from work. It was a candid shot, neither of them looking at the camera; Leah stood with her arms around his waist, her eyes closed and her cheek pressed against his chest. Scott had his arms wrapped around her shoulders with his chin resting on the top of her head. The next picture was of the two of them lying in Scott’s bed, their heads together as Leah held the camera away from them and snapped the shot. They were both wearing lazy, contented smiles, and Leah closed her eyes momentarily to ward off the memory. They had spent that entire day in bed, making love over and over, only getting up to use the bathroom or get a drink.

It went on and on. Various pictures of them hugging, kissing, laughing, smiling. Just when Leah thought she couldn’t take any more, the onslaught of images finally ended.

And then came the index card.

I know you remember how this used to be. Look at us, Leah. You were happy with me. One mistake isn’t enough to change that, and you know it. You were upset. You had a right to be. But you made your point, and I’ve certainly served my sentence. Let’s stop wasting time. We’re better together, and you know that too. You still love me, beautiful. As much as I still love you.

Holly shook her head in disbelief as Robyn bit her lip, glancing nervously at Leah.

A few seconds of pregnant silence passed before Leah said, “Guys, I’m not go

Holly and Robyn instantly laughed at her Jerry McGuire reference, and Leah grabbed the stack of pictures from Holly’s hand before she stood.

“What are you go

“Purge,” she said as she walked toward the kitchen.

Leah turned the corner and approached the garbage can, stepping on the pedal to lift the lid. Just as she was about to toss the pictures in, she stopped, sifting through them one more time.

She had been so happy in all of them.

But so much had happened since then that it felt like she was looking at a different girl. And truth be told, Leah felt bad for her. She felt bad that the rug was right about to be pulled out from underneath her, and this girl didn’t have the slightest idea.

Leah flipped until she was once again looking at the index card.

I know you remember how this used to be.

But she couldn’t. It was like when she was a little girl, and she’d watched a show that explained how magicians made rabbits and other things appear in hats. After that she could never watch a magic show again, not after she’d seen them for what they really were. A ruse. A sham.

A lie.

And that was exactly what this felt like. Looking at these images felt like watching a magic trick that had already been exposed. It left her feeling disappointed, and more importantly, unimpressed.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the photos into the trash can, letting the lid close on that era of her life once and for all.

“Jesus Christ. So is this typical, or is Robyn one of those dictator brides?”

Leah laughed, rolling onto her side to turn off the light before scooting further under her covers. “It’s pretty typical,” she said, switching the phone to her other ear. “You’ve never been in a bridal party?”

“Once,” Da

“Well, it’s typical for girls, I should say.”

“Of course. You guys always have to make shit more complicated,” he said, and Leah smiled.

She’d spent the past few months being excited over Robyn’s wedding, but tonight, for the first time, she wished it wasn’t going to occupy her entire weekend.

She had spoken with Da

“Alright, maybe next weekend, then,” he said. “I have something I want to show you.”

“Well, I’m getting back late Sunday afternoon. We could do something Sunday night if you want. I don’t have work on Monday.”

“You don’t?”

“Martin Luther King Day,” she said.

“Ah, that’s right.”

“Can you do a Sunday night? I don’t know what your hours look like on Monday.”

“I make my own hours. One of the perks of being the boss.”

Leah shook her head. “You think you’re so cool.”

Da

“Okay,” she said through a yawn.

“Alright, I’ll talk to you then. Have fun this weekend.”

“Thanks,” she said, her eyes falling closed. “Good night.”

“Good night sweet girl,” he said before ending the call.

Leah’s eyes flipped open before she smiled, reaching over to place her phone on her nightstand. It was the first time he’d called her that since his drunken rant the weekend before, but it sent the same thrill through her.

With a tiny sigh, she curled into her comforter and closed her eyes.

She fell asleep imaging those words falling from his lips before he pressed them to hers.

As cliché as it was to say a bride looked like a princess on her wedding day, that was the only way Leah could think of to describe Robyn. She couldn’t remember a time her friend looked more beautiful. And it wasn’t just her fairy-tale gown, or her elegant up-do, or her delicate makeup. It was because she was so unbelievably happy. Her smile didn’t leave her face the entire day, and every time Leah saw Robyn and Rich look at each other, it felt like she was intruding on a private moment. They were in their own little world, so wrapped up in each other, so conspicuously in love. It was extremely humbling to be around.

Leah said good-bye to Holly and Robyn on Sunday afternoon, wishing Robyn a wonderful honeymoon and telling Holly she’d talk to her later that week. She hadn’t told her about her plans with Da

Before Leah left the hotel, she texted Da

She spent the afternoon ru

Kissing her softly as they danced.

Leah parked at the end of his block, and the fluttering in her stomach doubled as she rode the elevator to his floor.