Page 174 of His Surrender

“I need you.”

The words leave me quietly. I can’t remember the last time I said them to anyone.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Where are you?”

“At the office.”

“I can be there in an hour.”

“No.” I rub a hand over my face. “Can we meet somewhere?”

“Of course.”

“There’s a restaurant a few blocks from here. The Italian place on Madison.”

“I know it.”

“One?”

“I’ll be there.”

After the call ends, I remain seated with the phone still pressed against my ear.

For years, I have convinced myself needing someone was the first step toward losing control. Yet my father heard the words and came without question.

By the time I reach the restaurant, Dad is already seated in a quiet booth near the back. He wears a navy sweater beneath his winter coat, and a pair of reading glasses rests on the table beside his phone. He stands when he sees me, studying my face in the same careful way he has since I was a child.

“You look terrible,” he says.

It is so blunt that I almost laugh.

“I appreciate that.”

“I think honesty is one of my better qualities.”

He pulls me into a hug before I can object. My body stiffens automatically, then slowly relaxes. Dad holds on longer than he normally would.

When he releases me, his hand remains on my shoulder for a moment.

“Sit.”

A server brings coffee before we order.

Dad waits until she leaves before speaking again. “What happened?”

I stare into the dark surface of my cup, then force my attention back to my father.

“Aubrey went Christmas shopping on Saturday.”

He doesn’t speak, just lets me pause and gather my thoughts.

I continue, “She said she would be home before dinner.”

My father’s expression remains neutral, but I see understanding begin to form before I say anything else.

“She was late,” he says.

I nod. “Her phone died. She lost track of time because the stores were packed, and she was trying to finish her list.”