Chapter 19: Second Night

I looked down at the screen, then slipped the phone back into my coat.

"Summer is at the house," I told Donovan.

"Do you want to go?"

"No. Whatever she has to say to him, she can say it without me."

He nodded and did not push.

We rode the Pink Line to Pilsen at one in the morning, sitting side by side with a sleeping man across from us.

I let him walk me up to the third floor.

At my door I turned around, and he stopped on the step below, which put his eyes level with mine.

"I'm not going to ask to come in," he said.

"Good."

"I'll sit on the stairs again, if you want."

"The stairs are cold, and your hand is open again."

I looked at the bandage.

A red spot was coming through it at the knuckle, where he had held the microphone too hard.

"Come in," I said. "I'll fix it."

I cleaned and wrapped his hand at the sink while he stood behind me with his chin near my hair.

I felt every breath he took.

When I finished, I didn't let go of his wrist.

"You said 'my wife,'" I said. "On the stage."

"I did."

"You said it in front of two hundred people. You said it without waiting for me to answer."

"It doesn't matter," Donovan said quietly. "I wanted to say it once without anyone's hand on my arm."

I turned around.

I had a thing I had never said to him, and I had never said it to myself in words.

"When they carried me past the doors I wasn't scared of the sack," I said.

"Kate."

"I was looking for you. The whole way. I thought, he'll be at the end of this hall in a second, and he'll be shouting."

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