Chapter 3: What "I Can Explain" Actually Means
Nobody moved for what felt like a full minute.
Derek's jaw tightened.
Myles hadn't looked at me once.
His eyes were locked on Derek the way you look at something you thought you'd buried.
"Myles." My voice came out steadier than I felt.
"Who is she?"
He finally looked at me.
"Can we please do this inside?
Not in the hallway."
"Answer the question."
"She's nobody.
She's someone I dated before you.
Derek is — he doesn't know the full story."
"I know enough," Derek said.
Myles stepped forward.
"You need to leave."
"I'm not going anywhere." Derek held his ground.
"She deserves to know what happened to Vanessa."
The name landed like something physical.
Vanessa.
He'd never mentioned that name.
Not once in six years.
"Who is Vanessa?" I asked.
Myles pressed his lips together.
"Myles.
Who is Vanessa?"
"She was someone I was with before you.
It ended badly.
That's all."
Derek let out a short, hard breath.
"That's all." He looked at me.
"He was engaged to her.
Not dating.
Engaged.
For fourteen months."
I turned to Myles.
His face had gone very still.
"You told me your last serious relationship ended five years ago.
You said it was two years, nothing serious."
"It's complicated."
"How long were you with her?"
He didn't answer.
"How long, Myles?"
"Three years."
The ring on my finger suddenly felt heavier.
I looked down at it.
Then back at him.
"You were engaged for over a year and you never told me she existed."
"I didn't think it mattered.
It was over."
"It mattered." Derek's voice was tight.
"It mattered when she came to you with what she found and you cut her off completely.
It mattered when she left the city and nobody heard from her for eighteen months."
Myles turned on him.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know she called me crying from a gas station parking lot at two in the morning saying she had to leave and couldn't tell me why.
I know she returned the ring by mail.
I know she blocked every single person connected to you within forty-eight hours." Derek's voice dropped.
"That's not a breakup.
That's someone running."
I sat down on the arm of the couch.
My legs had stopped cooperating.
"What did she find out?" I asked.
"What did Vanessa find out about you?"
Myles looked at me for a long moment.
Something moved behind his eyes — not guilt exactly.
Something more calculated than that.
"She misunderstood something."
"What did she misunderstand?"
"It's not what Derek is making it sound like."
"Then tell me what it actually is."
He crossed his arms.
"Not with him here."
Derek reached into his jacket pocket and set something on the side table.
A folded piece of paper.
He didn't explain it.
He just looked at me.
"I found her," he said quietly.
"Vanessa.
Last month.
It took me two years but I found her." He glanced at Myles once, then back at me.
"She agreed to talk.
But only to you.
Not to me.
Just you."
Myles moved toward the table.
"Don't touch that," I said.
He stopped.
I picked up the paper.
There was a phone number written on it, and below it, four words in small, careful handwriting:
*Please call me.
Soon.*
I folded it and put it in my pocket.
"I think," I said, "you should both leave now."
Derek nodded and walked to the door without another word.
Myles didn't move.
"You're not going to call her."
It wasn't a question.
It was something else.
A warning dressed as a statement.
"Good night, Myles," I said.
He stood there another moment.
Then he picked up his keys from where he'd set them on the shelf, and walked out.
I locked the door behind him.
Stood with my back against it.
May you like
Looked at the ring.
Then I took out the piece of paper and smoothed it open on my palm.
