He grinned, clapped my shoulder. "Hope it's something good, man. You've been working too hard."
After he left, I sat in the empty squad room, just me and the hum of fluorescent lights and the decision I'd been circling all day. I'd done the work. Two and a half years of therapy, learning to sit with discomfort instead of running. Learning to be honest instead of performing.
So maybe… maybe it was time to take all that and put it to the test. Not to pressure her, or to make her responsible for my happiness.
Just to let her know.
I changed in the locker room into jeans and the old shirt Elena used to say made my eyes look darker. I caught myself in the mirror and stopped. This wasn't about looking good; this was about telling the truth.
The rain had started by the time I got to my truck. Light, but steady. I sat there with the engine off, hands on the wheel. The wisest thing to do would be to text Elena and arrange something. Maybe even wait until tomorrow before I pull the trigger. Going straight to the clinic, or even her apartment, was probably too much. And yet… part of me knew I was making excuses.
I had to just do it, right now. Before I lost my nerve.
I reached for the ignition and, as if on cue, my phone rang.
Dad.
"Hey."
"Your mother's gone." His voice was shaking, wrong, all the air gone out of it.
"What?"
"She wandered off. I fell asleep, Matt… Just… just for a few minutes. And when I woke up she was gone. I checked the house, the yard, the neighbors…" He was barely holding it together. "Matthew, I can't find her."
I forced myself to focus. "Dad, listen to me. How long were you asleep?"
"I don't know. An hour, maybe? The news was on and then I?—"
"Okay. Listen. I'm calling it in right now. Keep checking with neighbors. I'll be there in fifteen."
"I'm sorry. I just closed my eyes for a second?—"
"Dad. It's not your fault. We'll find her." I was already starting the engine. "I'm on my way."
I hung up and called dispatch. Gave them everything: Mom's description, the dementia, how long she'd been gone. They'd alert every unit in the county and put a BOLO out.
Then I was pulling out of the lot, moving fast.
The rain was coming down harder now, and the storm was just beginning.
CHAPTER 31: ELENA
The storm everyone had been talking about was finally rolling in.
I'd been nervous all day. Not about Caleb, but about Dad meeting Caleb. About whether they'd get along, whether Dad would approve, whether this dinner would feel as right as everything else had.
The weekend had been hard. We'd talked through the grocery store, through seeing Matt with his mother, through the grief I hadn't let myself feel until it came pouring out in Caleb's arms. He'd listened,reallylistened. Never made me feel like loving him meant I was wrong for still mourning what I'd lost. By Sunday night, something had shifted. The heaviness had lifted, and what remained was… certainty.
I wanted this. Us.
Now it was Thursday, and he'd be here any minute.
I pulled the green beans off the stove. Dad was carving the roast at the counter, sleeves rolled up, reading glasses perched on his nose.
"He's not late, Ellie," Dad said without looking up.
"I didn't say he was."
