Chapter 13 - What He Finally Said Out Loud
He asked to meet in daylight and I said yes before I could talk myself out of it.
The diner on Route 9 was half full at eleven thirty. The lunch crowd hadn't come in yet and the breakfast dishes were still stacked by the pass. I took the booth against the far wall so my back was to the corner. I needed the room in front of me. My bag sat on the seat beside me with the terms folded inside, and my hands stayed on my belly while I waited.
Derek walked in wearing the same navy polo from that morning at the door. It was washed now, but I recognized the collar. He didn't have the sunglasses on. He didn't have the suitcase either. He slid into the booth across from me and set his phone face down on the table like an offering.
"Thanks for coming," he said.
I didn't answer. The waitress poured coffee I hadn't ordered and left two menus. The smell of grease and dish soap hung in the air.
He kept his hands around his mug. "The apartment — the lease. It wasn't something I fell into. I signed it."
The words landed flat. I had known that shape of it for days, but hearing him say it in that bright room made my jaw tighten.
"When?" I asked.
"Three weeks ago." He looked at the window, not at me. "Work cut my hours. The card statements kept coming. I felt like I was drowning in this house, with the crib and the bills and your appointments. I told myself I needed a place to think. A backup."
"A backup," I said.
He nodded once. "The ride that morning. I called her to pick me up because I didn't want to pay for a cab to the station. That was stupid. I know how that looked."
"You wheeled your suitcase past my hospital bag to get to her car," I said. My voice stayed low. "Don't call it a ride."
He swallowed. "Her name is Lauren. She works in leasing. That's how I found the unit. We talked. Too much. I told her stuff about money, about being scared to be a dad. I leaned on her. That part is true."
I watched his face for the flinch. "Did you sleep with her?"
"No." He said it too fast, then slowed down. "No. I never touched her. It wasn't physical. It was — I liked that she didn't need anything from me. You needed everything from me, and I couldn't carry it."
The coffee steam rose between us. A kid laughed two booths over and silverware clattered.
I opened my purse and pulled out the copies I'd made at the library. I laid them on the table one by one. Gas station receipt. Apartment application fee. The second month's rent transfer.
"You told me you signed three weeks ago after your hours got cut," I said. I tapped the first date with my finger. "This fee cleared six weeks ago. This transfer is from two months ago. Before the hours changed. Before you said you started drowning."
He stared at the papers. His color changed. He picked up the rent transfer slip and put it back down.
"I lied about when," he said quietly.
"Yes."
"I kept pushing the date closer because I wanted it to sound like panic, not a plan." His hands were shaking now. He laced them together. "It was a plan, Maya. I set it up while we were painting the nursery. I told myself if things got worse, I could walk out clean for a while. I didn't tell you because I knew what you'd do."
"What would I do?" I asked.
"Leave first," he said.
I let the silence sit. My baby kicked hard against my ribs and I shifted in the seat to breathe around it.
"I want the lease canceled," I said. "In writing. I want to see your phone. I want to see your bank logins, every account. Not later. This week."
He didn't argue. He turned his phone over and pushed it toward the middle of the table. "Take it now if you want. I'll cancel the lease tomorrow. You can watch me send the email. I'll give you the passwords tonight."
"And her?" I asked.
"I told her not to come back," he said. "I told her last night. It's cut off."
I looked at the phone sitting between the ketchup and the sugar dispenser. I didn't pick it up yet. The waitress came back and asked if we were ready to order. I said no, just coffee.
Derek leaned forward. "Is this — does this mean we can fix it?"
May you like
I folded the receipts back into a neat stack. My hands were steady, which surprised me.
"It means you finally said one true thing," I said. "Now I have to check if the rest is true."
