At eight fifteen, Ryan called. I let it ring, then answered on the fourth attempt because I wanted to hear what kind of man he would choose to be when he finally knew he couldn't hide.
“Dan,” he said. “I heard Natalie came back.”
“You did.”
“She's pretty upset.”
“Did she tell you why?”
He inhaled audibly. “Look, I know things are complicated. Maybe we should meet somewhere neutral and talk.”
“Did you know she was planning to tell me she wanted to date other men?”
A pause. “She mentioned she was taking some time.”
“Did you go to Nashville?”
“Daniel—”
“Did you stay with my wife?”
He was silent long enough that I could hear someone speaking faintly in the background. Finally he said, “I didn't plan for any of this to happen.”
It was almost exactly what Natalie had said. I wondered whether they'd been practicing their language together. “I have one question for you,” I said. “On the day you brought me coffee and told me not to make permanent decisions, were you already sleeping with her?”
“Listen, man, it wasn't black and white.”
“It is for the question I asked.”
“Yes.”