While He Built Her Home novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: Maybe It's Not Meant

"I'll go in the back," Clayton said quietly.

"Stay," I said. "Both of you. I want him to say it where somebody can hear."

Phoebe crossed her arms and planted herself by the register.

Jared stood on the mat with his hands open at his sides.

He had not shaved.

His shirt was the one from yesterday, and there was a smear of yellow paint on the cuff.

"I slept in the truck," he said. "I couldn't think of anywhere else."

"Brynn's house is four miles away."

"I'm not going back there. Not ever."

I held up my phone with the photo on the screen.

"She sent me this an hour ago."

He looked at it.

For a moment I saw him decide whether to lie.

I had watched him make that decision about forty times in six years, over late nights and missed dinners and the dates on a calendar.

"I carried that bag," he said. "I carried it more than once."

"Did you know what was in it?"

"I swear I thought it was your treatment. I never opened it. It was between you and her."

"Between me and her."

"I thought it was private, and that I'd hurt you if I asked."

"You thought it was private," I said, "because it was easier not to know."

He didn't answer, and that was the answer.

"Jared. After the second treatment failed, I came home and sat on the kitchen floor."

"I remember."

"Do you remember what you said?"

His face tightened.

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