Then he said, “He called me.”
Wade’s eyes dropped.
Elise went still.
“When?” I asked.
“After the divorce.”
“How long after?”
“A couple weeks.”
“And?”
Jonah looked at the concrete floor.
“And I didn’t answer.”
“That’s not hiding anything.”
“He left a voicemail.”
Elise whispered, “You listened to it?”
“No.”
I thought I had misheard him.
“You never listened?”
“No.”
“Why?”
His laugh was abrupt and ugly. “Because I knew what he was going to say.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I thought I did.”
“What did you think?”
“That he’d explain himself. Or ask me to keep checking on you so he could feel less guilty. Or tell me marriage is complicated, like men always say when what they mean is they want permission to act like cowards.”
Wade opened his mouth.
Jonah pointed at him without looking. “Don’t.”
Wade shut it.
Jonah pulled out the phone again. “I saw the notification. Twenty-eight seconds. I saved it because part of me thought one day I’d want evidence that he’d called.”
