"Actually, no. I did, however, make dinner for your daughter, and there's some left foryou."
“Oh. Right, yeah. Ofcourse.”
I'm such a dick. I'm a dick who was at the lowest point in my life, and I needed to shut up and thank her and stop being adick.
The room went silent, and when I looked up, she was watching meintently.
“You okay? You’re just tired?” she asked mesoftly.
My head shook on its own accord. “Nope,” my mouthsaid.
Her face was stoic. No hint of emotion, except maybe waiting…as if she was maybe waiting for me to saysomething.
She set a warmed plate of delicious smelling food in front of me and touched her hand lightly to my shoulder. It was a reassuring gesture, nothing sexual or alluring, just friendly, yet it was something I felt I’d been craving for so long. A simple thing I’d spent so longwithout.
“Your family will get through this, Mr. Sanborn. You’llsee.”
“Please, call meDylan.”
She smiled pleasantly. "Okay, then please call meCallie."
I nodded and took a bite of her dinner. I really wanted it to taste like shit. I really did. I wanted something to be horrible about the beautiful, sexy, lovely, drug-free woman in front of me. I hated her, actually. I slammed my fork down loudly and pushed away from thetable.
She either pretended not to notice or didn’t care. I balled my fists, the tension in my arms and shoulders building up to an overwhelmingtightness.
I hated the woman standing in front of me. Cleaning up the leftovers in those tight pants. I hated her. I wanted to yell and scream at her to get the fuck out of my house, out of my life. Fuck, I hatedher.
“Well, have a good night,Dylan.”
Her smile was sad, making my teeth clench together in anger. What did she have to be sad about? What in her perfect life made her frown? She made mesick.
I growled out a “goodnight.” Rage made my wordssharp.
I hated her for being fine, while my wife, my life, and my kidsweren’t.
When I heard the click of the front door, I polished off the rest of the meal. I had no idea how she had time to get food today and cook, and I looked around the house, which lookedclean.
She cleanedmyhouse.
It was unsettling, that’s all. Everything was going to be fine—there was no way my heart or my life was going to fall apart over guilt or regrets or my powerlessness over Sheri’s addiction. She still loved me, right? We were in this together. Sickness, health, rich or poor. All that shit. I was overthinking too much about someone who was just nice to us, to me. Someone whose job it was to help in these kinds of situations. I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. Detective Callie Ward, no matter how beautiful, how perfect, or how nice she had been, was not going to destroy anything with the bat of her eyes. This was just a setback for Sheri. We were going to befine.
I checked on the kids. They always slept easily. At least tomorrow was Saturday, and I didn't have to go in, Sunday either. That gave me two days to figure out who could watch them while I worked on Monday. Maybe Sheri will be better. Maybe her mother will helpme.
I called the hospital, but the nurse said they released her sometime thatafternoon.
Nobody bothered to tellme?
I tossed the phone limply down. Who the hell was I kidding? Myself, that’s who. I slumped down onto the couch, the loose spring in the middle poking dangerously into the cushion, and stared at the wedding picture we’d taken right after we got out of City Hall four years ago. My eyes were on Sheri as she looked somewhere off into the distance. Her eyes were crystal clear and her smile wide, hiding all the messed up secrets I never knew she had until it was toolate.
