I grabbed my keys, shrugged into my jacket. Ingrid hesitated, unsure whether she should take my hoodie off or put her coat over it. I gave her a small nod. She layered the coat on top.
Then we stepped through the door, out into the night, cool air and a sky streaked low down with the fleeing sunlight. I walked her to my Mercedes in silence, opening the passenger door and watching her climb in before I rounded the hood.
I drove toward her house, remembering the route from before, and like last time, I pushed on the accelerator, shrinking the drive down from thirty minutes to fifteen.
Neither of us spoke.
Her silence was anxious.
Mine was… dangerous.
Halfway down the last turn, her phone rang. She jolted like she’d been slapped, fumbling it out of her pocket.
“Oh, Dios mío.”
She glanced to me. “I-I’d better answer this.” And she swallowed, pressing the green button to accept the call, then placing it against her ear with a trembling hand.
“H-hello, Papa—”
The voice on the other end was loud enough for me to hear. “Where are you?”
I watched her start rubbing her pant leg anxiously. My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“I-I’m on my way home—”
A flurry of Spanish came through the speaker.
I didn’t understand the language, but I knew the tone of a man losing his temper.
A man losing control, used to obedience.
Ingrid’s father was seething. She winced, distractedly rubbing her leg faster and faster.
Instinctively,I reached over and covered her hand with mine, stopping the frantic movement. She stared at our joined hands, then forward, swallowing hard.
She stammered a response.
He shouted again, louder, and the only word I caught wascasa—was he angry she wasn’t home?—before the line went dead.
Ingrid sighed shakily, sliding the phone into her pocket. I wanted to ask if she was OK, but she looked like she was trying to keep it together. I didn’t want to be the reason the dam broke. I just kept stroking her hand, offering the only comfort I could.
When we pulled up to her house, she turned to me.
“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching for the door handle.
I tugged her hand gently, stopping her just for a moment. I wanted to stop her completely, having heard what I just had, but I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t my right to—not yet.
“If you need anything at all, you have my number. OK?”
Ingrid nodded. She stepped out, thanked me again, and closed the door.
I idled there, watching her walk up the path and unlock the door.
Every fucking instinct in my body screamed not to let her go in there alone.
Knowing what was waiting for her inside made my blood boil. As I drove away, my hands gripped the wheel until my knuckles cracked.
Her sad eyes stayed with me all the way home.
