Chapter 22: Where's Daddy

I walked out of the clubhouse with Dean's old phone and the drive in my hand.

Nobody tried to stop me.

The wives stood up along the wall as I passed.

They didn't say anything, and they didn't have to.

The cold in the lot was sharp and clean.

Dean came out behind me and stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"Di."

"Don't."

"I'm not asking for anything."

"I know you're not," I said. "That's been your whole problem."

I turned around.

He stood with his arms down at his sides and his shoulders braced.

"I'm done with the terms," I said.

"Okay."

"You don't have to come to the appointments. You don't have to keep your hands in your pockets."

"Okay."

"You don't have to hold your breath when you say his name."

"Okay."

"Do you know why I made them?"

"So I'd stay away."

"So I'd stay mad," I said. "It was easier than finding out what I wanted."

He took that in.

"Don't take it as a gift," I said. "I haven't forgiven you for any of it."

"I know."

"I'm not going to say it today, or this month. I might never say it."

"I understand."

"You don't. But you will."

I looked down at the phone in my palm.

The screen was still lit, and I scrolled past the red words, down to the log.

It said 7:52, 8:10, 8:31, 8:44, all the way down to 9:58.

I had stood in the ER hall and pressed Dean's name until the screen went dark in my hand.

"Here's what you owe me," I said. "I don't know what it is yet. I'll tell you as I find out."

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