“Yes.”
“I told Melissa he was a good guy.”
“You believed that.”
“He asked me if I was okay with him asking her out.”
I looked over.
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“I gave him permission like she belonged to me.”
“That’s not what you meant.”
“No.”
He stared at the traffic.
“But maybe that’s part of the problem.”
When we arrived, Rebecca met us at the gate.
She hugged me.
Then looked at Daniel.
“She's inside.”
“Is she okay?”
Rebecca’s face softened.
“She’s functioning.”
That was not the same thing.
Daniel nodded.
Rebecca opened the guest-house door.
Melissa stood inside.
Sweatpants.
Old university sweatshirt.
Bare feet.
Hair tied loosely behind her head.
She looked exhausted.
The moment she saw Daniel, she stopped.
He stopped too.
All the anger I had seen in our kitchen was gone.
He did not rush toward her.
Did not demand answers.
Did not start asking why she had hidden everything.
He simply said:
“Can I hug you?”
Melissa nodded.
Daniel crossed the room.
She collapsed against him.
Not dramatically.
Her whole body simply seemed to give up holding itself together.
I stepped outside.
Rebecca followed.
We sat on the back steps.
For nearly forty minutes, we heard nothing.
Then Daniel came out.
His eyes were red.
He sat beside me.
Rebecca quietly went inside the main house.
For a while Daniel said nothing.
Then:
“She apologized to me.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“For not telling me.”
“What did you say?”
“That she had nothing to apologize for.”
He rubbed his palms together.
“Then I apologized.”
I waited.
“There were signs.”
My stomach tightened.
“What signs?”
“Brandon joked about her clothes.”
Daniel looked toward the yard.
“He called her dresses ‘single-girl outfits.’ I laughed.”
He swallowed.
“He complained when she traveled for conferences.”
“I remember.”
“I told him all couples fight about schedules.”
“That’s not unusual by itself.”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“But he always framed everything like she owed him access.”
I listened.
“If she went to dinner with coworkers, he wanted pictures.”
“If she didn’t answer him fast enough, he'd call me and joke about her being impossible.”
Daniel looked sick.
“I helped him.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I answered him.”
“You thought they were having ordinary relationship problems.”
“I should’ve asked her.”
I did not tell him he was wrong.
He needed to sit with that.
But I also refused to let him turn hindsight into omniscience.
“You missed things.”
He looked at me.
“That’s different from causing them.”
Daniel nodded.
Then whispered:
“He told her I agreed with him.”
“What?”
“Every time she pushed back against something, he said I thought she was immature.”
My stomach turned.
“He said you thought that?”
“Apparently.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Daniel looked furious now.
Not the reckless anger from the kitchen.
Something colder.
“Melissa said Brandon kept telling her that if they ever broke up, I’d believe him because I knew him first.”