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“Yes,” I reply as I head to the nearest local airport.
“You kidnapped me and brought me all the way here?”
“Easier than scouting out a good place around Denver.” I let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.”
She’s quiet, then looks at me to say, “I’m sorry, too.”
“What are you sorry about?”
“About…about what happened with…”
She can’t say his name.
I can’t either, so I say instead, “You have nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t realize you knew about the triad. But that explains why you did what you did.”
I grow silent, then slam the steering wheel with my fist. She jumps.
“I fucked up your life,” I explain. “You didn’t get to do your fellowship in Sacramento, you didn’t get to finish your last year at Cal, you moved all the way to Denver.”
I think about how we made love not too long ago. But what if it was the last time? What if she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me after this? I wouldn’t blame her.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
Misery slices through me.
“But I don’t miss that now,” she finishes. “My life in Denver has been special because of Ethan.”
I look at her in amazement. This woman can bounce back from anything. Did I sense that from the beginning, from the time I laid eyes on her in that ugly sweater?
I think back to Marshall’s question: if you stick with her, what’s next?
So far I’ve had a drink to the face. Two bullets. A knife.
Whatever’s next, bring it on.
“I like the name Ethan,” I say.
Silence ensues again, but not for too long.
“Would you like to meet your son?” she asks.
Suddenly my heart is in my throat. When I speak, it comes out hoarsely. “Yes, please.”
