Chapter Sixteen
Eight weeks after Sam left for California, and five weeks since the night of blizzard, Emmi and Digger were at her parents’ home. Her sisters were coming over for dinner later that evening. Mia had given birth to a baby boy they named Tony, after his grandfather, and her parents were ecstatic. Emmi mentally braced herself for an evening of watching a newborn make faces and cry.
“Won’t be too long before you give us a grandchild, too,” said her father, eyeing her and Digger over the top of his glasses. He was on his laptop, as usual. She and her mother were working on a blanket for little Tony, and Digger was reading a book.
It was such a cozy, family scene. One short month ago, she would have balked at it. Not so much now, except for that damn comment. “I’m not pregnant,” she said.
“First things first,” said Digger.
“What does that mean?” asked her father.
“It means I’m waiting for the right moment to ask Emmi to marry me.”
“I’m right here,” she said. “I can hear you and see you.” Digger’s comment to her parents sent a quick wave of fear through her, but also made her want to scream with happiness.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” When her father went into roaring mode, there was no talking to him.
“Everything is fine, Tony.” Not even Digger’s smooth voice could erase the frustration from her father’s face.
“If it was all right, she’d have a fucking diamond on her finger.”
Emmi looked toward her mother for help, but it only took one glance to realize it wasn’t coming. She dropped her gaze to the blanket and concentrated on the work instead.
“She’ll have it when the timing is right.”
Emmi opened her mouth to say something to him, because really, he should know better than to bait them like this, when Dottie, one of their staff, came into the room, followed by Sam. Everyone stared at him. Emmi gasped. Sweat broke out along her hairline. She had trouble breathing.
What the hell was he doing here? He looked like shit. Much less happy than he had in that stupid picture, and a lot thinner than when she’d last seen him. He also looked utterly defeated. Had Miss Skinny Ass dumped him already? But what the hell was he doing here?
“Sorry I didn’t call first.”
The emotions coursing through Emmi were overwhelming. Anger, old heartache, followed by nothing. Absolutely nothing. Shouldn’t she feel remorse, guilt, or longing? All she could do was glance from each of her parents to Digger, who looked at Sam like he desperately wanted to take him out back and shoot him. Or maybe he’d simply do it right here. Emmi wasn’t sure she’d try to stop him.
Dottie left the room, but Sam still stood there, staring at her with a look of agony on his face. “Can we talk?”
“Go ahead.” She sounded bitchy and cruel, but really … what was she supposed to do? Run into his arms?
“I meant alone.”
“This is as alone as we get in this house.”
“Emmi, don’t be rude,” said her mother. “Take Sam into another room so he can say what he came here to say to you.”
She shot her mother a nasty look, but stood anyway. She was being rude, and although she had every right to, she could at least listen to him. It must be important for him to have come home, and to drive all the way out here. Where was he staying? Their apartment was gone.
As she walked past Digger, she nearly stopped at the look of complete rage on his face. Not directed toward her, thank God. But if he could have killed Sam in that instant, he would have.
A shiver ran down her spine. Was that the expression his victims saw, right before their lives ended? Or, did they not even see his face?
“Come on,” she said to Sam. He reached for her hand, but she moved away so he couldn’t touch her. The fucking nerve of him! As soon as they were in the music room, she turned on him.
“What are you doing back in New York? Did that girl dump you already?’
He looked confused for a second. “Oh. Her. Yeah. That’s over.”
“Bummer.”
“Emmi, it bombed. The whole fucking thing. The band, the record deal we supposedly had, everything.” He ran a hand through his hair. That gesture used to evoke sympathy in her, but now all it did was leave her numb. He’d been gone for two months. What did it mean that she felt nothing for him now, after all the years they had been together? What kind of a person did that make her?
You already felt nothing when you saw the picture, because you’re in love with Digger.
“Sam, you posted that picture a week after you left. A week.”
“Did you hear me? It all fell apart.”
I thought it was a done deal,” she said. “I mean for fuck’s sake, Sam. You moved across the country. You gave up everything.”
“Including you. I was wrong. All of it was so wrong. I’m such an idiot.”
No. No fucking way. He did not get to do this to her after posting a picture of him and another girl one fucking week after her left her! “What happened with the record deal?”
“I was lied to. That’s what happened. They built it up into something it wasn’t. Once we got into the studio and recorded a demo, they wanted all these changes. All this shit that everyone else does now. That’s not what I went out there for. It’s not what I left my home and my life for.”
“Did you confront them about lying?”
“Oh yeah, right. And of course they denied it. They said they were up front with me about everything.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place.
“And what did you say?”
“Big fight. Lots of arguing and finger-pointing.” He shot her a guilty look. “I lost my temper and told them all to go fuck themselves.”
“So, it was more a matter of you disagreeing with the others than of anything related to breaking a contract.”
He gave her a droll look. “Guess you’re still in law school.”
“Of course I’m still in law school, Sam. That wasn’t a fluke.”
“And you and me? Was that a fluke?”
Emmi had to dig her nails into palms to keep from lunging at him. Hot, white anger filled her. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how much you broke my heart when you made me choose? Twelve years. I gave you twelve years of my life, and you left me! For a goddamn band! And then you post a picture of you and another girl, and tell the whole fucking world how much you don’t miss New York, or me, and how great your fucking life is!”
She had trouble taking a full breath. “How can you stand there and ask me if what we had was a fluke?”
“God, you haven’t changed a bit. You never supported my dream.”
“Bullshit! I supported it all the time. But it was never enough for you. You expected me to be your fucking groupie, not your partner.”
“Yeah. Law school. I took a backseat to it.”
“I took a backseat to your music. And me going to law school could have eventually helped you, numbnuts. Sounds like right about now you could use someone skilled in contract negotiation.”
“That’s a low blow.”
“You’ve been gone two months, and now you’re back here insulting me because you lost your temper.”
“I’m back here because I wouldn’t compromise my artistic integrity.”
“Something you should have made sure you wouldn’t have to do before you left.”
“I didn’t expect this kind of welcome from you.”
“Really? No word for two months, Sam. Nothing. And clearly you didn’t miss me.”
“I thought you’d wait for me.”
“When you left, you made it pretty damn clear you weren’t coming back.”
“But I did come back. I’m here now.”
****
The door to the music room was only partially closed. Digger had followed them moments after they left the living room, despite Tony and Teresa protesting. He had heard their voices down the hall, but couldn’t make out the words until he got this close, peering through the crack in the door.
This was wrong, but he didn’t give a shit. That fucking asshole was in there, with his Emmi. He couldn’t simply sit in the damn living room with her parents as if this was an ordinary occurrence.
The man had left her. She’d been heartbroken. But what if she realized she still loved him and gave him another chance?
No! Digger couldn’t let that happen. He would not let that happen. Emmi was his. He would never let her go.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Her back was to Digger, but he could certainly hear her. He could hear the way her voice shook.
Sam stepped closer to her and grabbed her shoulders. When she didn’t move or protest, Digger nearly retched. She let that fuckwad touch her! His worst nightmare had just come true.
“Listen to me. Just listen.”
“Fine. Talk.”
Okay. So her voice had an edge to it. But she was having a conversation with him. He was touching her. She’d empathized with him over his stupid plight. This couldn’t be real. Even if he stopped it, what would that change? Sam had come back for her, and she hadn’t tossed him out on the front lawn.
“Emmi, I made a mistake. A huge mistake. I know I broke your heart. It was to follow my dream, but it hurt you. That girl meant nothing. I’m back now. I’m here to stay. We can pick up where we left off. I will never leave you again.”
In his mind’s eye, Digger saw himself aiming a gun at the back of Sam’s head. He heard the shot. He saw the blood and the brains spewing out of the wound. But that was too quick. Too neat. Sam deserved a prolonged, agonizing death, not a swift execution.
He didn’t wait to hear her response. He’d heard enough.
Breathing was difficult. Walking was worse, but he forced himself to do it.
Digger grabbed his coat off the hook in the back hallway and left. He got into his car and drove, mindless, directionless. It didn’t matter now where he went because the one person he’d lived for all these years was gone. His Emmi was lost to him. Lost to her past. What a fucking fool he’d been to believe he could hold onto her.