Chapter 5: Friday

By Friday, Hoyt still hadn't packed.

He came and went all week, polite and silent, and every night he slept in the guest room with the door shut.

Cavan had driven to the motel that first morning and found the room empty and the bed made.

Danielle and Otto had vanished before he arrived.

He left me his number on the back of a receipt, and he texted me twice a day: Anything? Anything?

I answered the same thing both times.

Not yet.

On Friday at six, I stood in front of Hoyt in the front hall with the empty suitcase between us.

"It's Friday," I said.

"I know what day it is."

"Your clothes are still in my closet."

"Audrey, I'm not going to a hotel because you set a deadline."

"Then the court will do it for me."

"Then let the court do it." He kept his voice reasonable, which made me want to scream. "I'm not leaving my wife's house. I'm not leaving you."

"You left me in a hospital."

"I went to deal with a van."

"You went to a bakery."

He opened his mouth and nothing came out.

The doorbell rang.

Two long rings, the way someone rings when they are carrying something heavy.

Hoyt moved first.

"Wait," I said.

He opened the door anyway.

Danielle stood on my porch in the rain, soaked to the skin, with Otto asleep against her shoulder.

His curly head was tucked under her chin and his sneakers hung from her hand by their laces.

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