“I’m sorry,” I tell her. The words come out rough, and I find myself blinking more than I should because my eyes fucking sting. “For hiding. For not being there.”
“It’s okay.” She leans back against me. “Dr. Hale says sometimes grown-ups need space to heal too.”
Smart kid.
We sit like that for a while. Her tucked against me. Frederick squished between us. The silence comfortable in a way I haven’t felt in weeks.
Finally she asks, “Can we call Jess?”
My chest tightens again. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me right now.”
“But maybe she wants to talk tome,” Ben points out with five-year-old logic that’s irresistible.
I sigh.
She’s right.
Even if Jess hates me. Even if she never wants to see my scarred face again. She might still want to hear from Ben.
I pull out my phone. Open Jess’s contact.
My thumb hovers over the call button.
Then I hand the phone to Ben instead.
“You do it,” I tell her.
She takes the phone. Her small fingers press the button.
The ringing fills the room.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Then voicemail. Jess’s voice. “Hey, you’ve reached Jessica. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hi Jess,” Ben says into the phone. Her voice wobbles. “It’s Ben. I miss you. Daddy misses you, too, even though he won’t say it. Can you come back? Please?”
She hangs up.
Looks at me with those eyes full of hope and hurt.
“She’ll call back,” I tell her. Another lie. “She’s probably just busy.”
Ben nods. I get the sense she doesn’t really believe me.
I don’t blame her.
She climbs off my lap. Takes Frederick and heads for the door.
“Ben?” I say to her back.
She turns.
“I loveyou,piccola.”
