I reach around the back of my neck and unclasp the chain once we’re tucked inside the waiting area. “Wear the ring. If they believe you’re married they’ll let you see him. His parents live too far away, you need to be there.”
I slide the ring on her finger, the one I made all those years ago. The one I never believed I’d see on her hand again. She tenses, like she’s remembering it too. That vulnerable moment all those years ago. But I shake it off. This is important; I can’t get bogged down with memories.
“But what if they ask me questions I can’t answer,” she whispers.
“He’s twenty-five, birthday is September eighteenth, allergic to pineapple and his blood type is B+.”
A strange look overtakes her face.
“What?”
She blinks and smiles sadly. “You really know him, don’t you?”
I sigh. “He was always the honest one. The better one. I’m the one who kept myself hidden away.”
“It should be you,” she says. “It should be you who goes.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, sniffing my nose. “I think they’re more likely to buy you for the wife than me.”
She frowns and looks at the floor, the sound of a crackling announcement overhead and shoes squeaking on the terrazzo flooring the only noise. She takes a deep breath, and I realize she’s quivering.
“Dusty,” I say gently. “It’s going to be okay.”
She presses her lips together before looking up at me with tears in her eyes. “He has to be,” she whispers. “I love him.”
That small balloon that had been secretly filling with hope inside my chest bursts. Part of me expected it. How could anyone not love Joel? But the smaller part of me also hoped against hope that maybe it was fleeting. A way back together. For fuck’s sake, we even fell in love as strangers over the phone. How many coincidences can a person experience before it becomes fate? Or maybe the universe has a cruel sense of humor.
I try to smile as I reach forward and brush away the tears from her face. “I know.”
She crumples in my hands. “I’m sorry,” she squeaks out.
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” I say. “Love means you don’t have to feel bad about feeling it.”
Her eyes dart over my face, her lips parting before?—
“Mrs. Thanger?”
We both look up at a somewhat confused-looking nurse. I take in the scene from her eyes—the intimate closeness of our bubble. I drop my hands and take a step back.
“I can take you to him now.”
Dusty nods and tucks some of her wild hair behind her ear. “You’ll stay?” she asks.
I nod. “For as long as it takes.”
She swallows. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Then her red hair disappears down the hallway, a flash of her blue eyes finding mine before she turns the corner.
“Excuse me, sir,” a paramedic brushes past me pulling a stretcher and I press into the wall. My head falls back against the cool tile and I close my eyes. How has life gone from bad to the worst thing imaginable? I thought the universe was supposed to be about balance, but what kind of bullshit is this?
I glance down the hall and see a payphone. I should probably call James and Dave. They’ll want to be here. I walk over, rooting around in my pocket for some quarters, but before I can put one in, I stop.
They don’t know I’m back. They don’t know what’s happened. They’re going to hate me. I’m the one who took off and abandoned them. Made them all think . . . Then for me to come back without a solution only to have caused more damage? This is all my fault—all of it. They’ll never forgive me. How can they, when I know I’ll never forgive myself?
But none of that stops me from dialing the number.
Joel would want them here and that’s the only thing that matters.
