His eyes dropped to the table.
“And every time, I chose the coward’s way out.”
For a long while, neither of us spoke. I kept looking at Ryan, trying to reconcile the man sitting across from me with the story he had just shared.
Twelve years of marriage, and somehow I had never come close to the truth.
Finally, I asked the question that had bothered me ever since the bakery.
Ryan’s expression immediately darkened. He already knew the answer.
“She thought I still blamed her.”
“Did you?”
A painful smile appeared.
“Back then? Absolutely.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“I was sixteen. My dad was my hero. He coached my baseball team. Helped me with homework. Came to every game.”
“When Sloane came forward, it felt impossible.” The next words seemed physically painful. “So I made her the villain.”
Silence.
“I wasn’t the only one.” His laugh carried no humor. “The whole town did.”
I thought of Sloane standing in the bakery, frightened and cautious, glancing over her shoulder before answering a simple question. Suddenly it all made sense.
“Did you ever apologize?”
The answer surprised me. Not because I thought he lacked the desire, but because I assumed guilt would have pushed him to do it years ago.
“I tried once.” He rubbed his forehead. “I drove to her house. Sat in my truck for almost an hour.”
“What happened?”
“I left.”
The answer hurt me, not because it excused him, but because it did not.
“I told myself she’d be better off without hearing from me.” He shook his head. “Truth is, I was a coward.”
Ryan looked up.
“Where are you going?”
I picked up my keys.
“To finish a conversation.”
“Elsie.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Elsie.”
The bakery manager recognized me. I left my phone number and a brief note asking Sloane to call if she wanted to talk. Honestly, I expected nothing.
An hour later, my phone rang.
