I could hear muffled whimpering on the other end. Leonard sat up straight, tension pulling his shoulders tight.
"Okay. I'm coming right now."
He hung up and unlocked the doors.
"Naomi's apartment is flooding. I need to get over there."
"Take a cab home."
He spun the wheel and made a U-turn. "The surgery's settled. Quit with the act."
"Gone is gone. I mean, come on—what do you think tits are for? They're for men."
"*I* don't even mind you not having them. So what's your problem?"
Something detonated inside my skull.
Before I could get a word out, he'd already unbuckled my seatbelt and shoved me out of the car.
Dust kicked up behind the tires as he pulled away. I stood there on the roadside, unable to come back to myself for a long, long time.
Eight years. And maybe I was only now seeing who Leonard Delgado actually was.
Even the sky seemed to be in on it. I hadn't walked ten steps before the rain came down in sheets.
Leonard's car was still sitting at the red light up ahead. One second. Two. Three. The light changed, and the car shot forward without a moment's hesitation.
He kept saying he was worried about my illness. But one word from Naomi, and he could leave me standing sick in the rain without looking back.
He didn't even leave me an umbrella.
The walk home was endless.
I don't know how I made it back.
All I knew was that Leonard and I were truly over.
When I reached the door of our shared condo, it was slightly ajar. Through the gap came the sound of laughter. A man's voice and a woman's.
I pushed the door open. Leonard and Naomi both turned around at the same time.
Leonard said nothing. His gaze landed on me, dripping wet, and his brow creased.
Naomi let out a little gasp. "Oh, Connie, sweetie—what happened to you?"
"You absolutely cannot be getting rained on in your condition! If you come down with a fever, the surgery the day after tomorrow won't happen…"
So the surgery was the day after tomorrow.
Funny. My flight was the day after tomorrow too.
The moment he heard that, Leonard panicked.
He grabbed a bath towel and a hairdryer and rushed over, caught my arm, and shoved me down onto the couch.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I told you to take a cab!"
"If you ruin this surgery for Naomi, I'm telling you right now—this wedding is off."
The hairdryer roared. Every word out of his mouth drove into me like a needle.
It hurt.
My body didn't matter to him.