She flew out of bed like she’d just found a spider on her sheets, or knew one of the most important moments of her life was waiting for her on the other side of the door. She reached for the doorknob.
“Don’t open the door,” he said in a firm tone.
Her hand froze. “Why? Are you not wearing your makeup?” Shit, she was nervous joking. This was not the time, and yet, this heaviness between them called for something to lighten it. “I think it’s okay with me, Joel. I’ve seen it all before.”
His muffled chuckle reverberated through the barrier, then silence. After a few seconds, she tentatively twisted the doorknob. And the pulse that had been hammering in her throat spread everywhere. Her entire body, mind, and soul ached to be closer to him. She wanted the door open.
“Lucy.” He sounded pained. His hand slapped the door, as if he could keep it closed if she decided to pull it open. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
She imagined him standing on the other side, palms against the door, forehead against the hardwood, and her heart cracked under the sweetness of his admission. Yes, she wanted sex. Of course she did. Their desire was a Mack truck, impossible to ignore as it constantly barreled toward them. But more than anything, she wanted to talk. Was heafraid that they couldn’t talk face to face without the Mack truck plowing them over?
“I fucked up so badly with us before. I was gone when you needed me most, then left when we were at our lowest. I’ve spent every day since regretting it. I need to do things right by you this time.”
With so much to unpack in his monologue she didn’t know where to start, so she simply replied, “There was no way you could have known what would happen.” Nobody could.
“That girl who called that day that I left was…”
Lucy’s mind reeled back four years. They’d been sitting on the couch watching a movie, her feet on his lap as he pressed his thumb into her arch. His phone rang, and he answered before it could ring a second time. Then he’d jumped up and raced into the bedroom.
She’d assumed it was business, but when he came out, he told her he had to go immediately. That his sister was in trouble and needed him. It never occurred to her to stop him, or to go with him, or to consider what might happen while they were parted.
“That was Ivy.”
“What?” Her hand dropped from the doorknob as his words sank through her memory.
“The girl who called me that day to tell me Hope was in trouble was Ivy.”
“Okay, that makes sense. They were college roommates.”
Where was he going with this? She knew very little of what happened when he’d flown to Hope’s college. By the time he’d returned to San Francisco, the loss of the baby overshadowed everything. They’d barely spoken about his time away or why he’d been gone. It hadn’t mattered. Nothing had mattered.
“We never talked about why I left. And I know, it didn’t seem important after what happened while I was gone, but it has haunted me day and night. You alone and that shit happening to you all the while wondering why I didn’t drop everything to come back immediately.”
It was true. That night, after he’d left, she’d started spotting. She’d called him and left messages, and he hadn’t replied at first. Then, when he did, all he’d said was that he’d get home as soon as he could.
He’d arrived at the hospital before noon the next day, but it had already been too late.
“I couldn’t drop everything and leave. I wanted to, believe me I wanted to get to you more than anything. But things at USC were a mess. Hope was a mess. Ivy was… I never said anything because it wasn’t mine to tell. But today I asked her if I could share with you because it’s important to me that you know the truth about what was going on and why I didn’t come home in time. And she said okay, so—” For a long beat, the silence was thick between the wall that separated them. “Ivy was raped at a college party by one of Hope’s business-school peers, though a couple of them were in on it. Hope”—his voice hardened, syllables clipped— “interrupted things in process.”
Her stomach clenched imagining the scenario. “Oh my God.”
On the other side of the door, Joel cleared his throat. “Ivy didn’t want to tell anyone. She was adamant about that. So Hope kept her secret. But then, not long after, those assholes were caught cheating on exams, and they accused Hope of providing them with the cheating material. They held Ivy over her head. It was a fucking disaster, and Hope didn’t call me because she didn’t want to betray Ivy.Ultimately, Ivy called me, told me the bare minimum of details, and asked me to come help Hope.”
As he spoke, Lucy struggled to piece together the web of horror he’d been dragged into while simultaneously knowing his wife was at home, very likely having a miscarriage.
“Joel, I had no idea.” She wanted to open the door so badly, wanted to tug him to her and make the pain in his voice disappear, but the door was his boundary, and she needed to respect it.
“I got your first call while I was in a meeting with the college officials. Then you texted immediately after and all I could do was sit there and read it while these assholes in sweater vests told me my sister was going to be expelled.” A soft thud bumped the door, as if he’d knocked his head against it.
She pressed her forehead to her side of the wood, imagining they were touching.
“I knew the worst was happening to you, to us, and I couldn’t walk out of the room and go home like I wanted to. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.” His voice broke.
The sound unleashed the tears that had been building behind her eyes.
“Hope was being quiet. She wouldn’t tell me anything. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t defending herself. I was going crazy trying to help her and knowing you needed me at home. Then Ivy told me what happened to her, begged me not to say anything. She wanted me to help Hope and keep her out of it. It was such a fucking mess, and all I wanted to do was get to you.”
“You did get to me. You were home the next day.”
