What is it?
A report.
A longer pause this time.
A report?
You'll understand when you see it. Can I come over?
Another pause. Then:Okay. Give me an hour.
She gives me her address, and I finish my coffee, reflecting on how vastly my life has changed and all the further changes coming up.
Before I leave I check my blood pressure one more time: 128 over 82.
I grab the report binder, my laptop, and my car keys.
Time to prove I can choose differently.
That I choose life and her, always her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JENNIFER
For someone who cleans for a living, I’m actually a pretty unorganized and messy person. Maybe it’s because I’m tired when I come home to my little one bedroom one bath apartment at the end of the day. Or I’m simply lazy. Either way, when I put down my phone, I eye the mess that is my place and go into full-on ‘yikes, Seth is going to see how I live like a pig’ mode.
I zoom around the apartment, stuffing loose odds and ends into an empty laundry basket, which I plop into the bathtub and pull the shower curtain to hide, patting myself on the back over my cleverness. I then spend a few precious minutes vacuuming, dusting, and loading the dishwasher before I head to shower. Only to realize there’s a basket in there. So much for my so-called smarts. Oh well. I haul the basket back out, shower, and then put it back in there.
Being apart from Seth has been torture. Almost every moment of the days since I left I’ve spent wondering and worrying over how he’s doing. I’m still supposed to be cleaning and cooking for him. Oops. But I figured he wouldn’t rat me out to Mrs. Avery, and if things stretched on too long, I would confess everything to her. Another reason for my relief at his text.
But mostly I’m just thrilled that he reached out. Still, he made a report. Part of me wants to laugh. Of course, he made a report. That's so perfectly Seth- turning a life-or-death decision into a presentation with data and charts.
But another part of me is terrified. What if the report is just more empty promises? More “I'll try” and “I'll do better” without any actual change?
What if I have to say no again?
The brisk knock on the door makes me jump.
I smooth my hands over my jeans, take a breath, and open it.
Seth stands there in jeans and a navy henley, his hair slightly disheveled, no doubt he's been running his hands through it. He looks tired with dark circles under his eyes, but his blue eyes are clear and bright, and to my adoring gaze he’s never looked more handsome.
And he's holding a three-ring binder that makes my lips lift in a smile.
“Hi,” he says quietly.
“Hi.” I step back to let him in. “That's... your report.”
He smiles. “Our report. Forty-seven pages.” He says it like a confession. “I know it's excessive. But I needed you to see that this isn't just talk.”
I close the door and lean against it, crossing my arms. Not defensive, just... protecting myself. “Okay. I'm listening.”
He sets the binder down on my small living room table, then turns to face me. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t reach for me, he just stands and shoves his hands into pockets. Honestly, it’s a pretty casual stance for him.
“I need to start by saying I'm sorry. Really, truly and unbelievably sorry for all that I put you, and us through.” His voice is steady, but I can hear the strain of emotion underneath the calm. “You were right about everything. When that call came in, my first instinct was to fix it, control it, and be the hero.I didn't think about my health or my promises or you. I just... reverted. To who I've always been.”
I nod but don't say anything. What is there to say? It’s all true.
