He’s hurt, confused. Decades’ worth of disappointment gather in his eyes like a storm. He’s already been kicked out of his marriage. And then all this pressure from the town, an impossible job to do for anyone. It’s not sex he wants at all, but a lifeline. A raft to keep him afloat in the godforsaken nothingness, or even a single piece of driftwood, as long as the two of us could cling hard to it, together.

The phone rings from the other room and I jump. A shrill burst of sound.

“Let it ring,” he says.

“No. Answer it.”

“Anna.”

—

The ringing seems to go on for an eternity. Cricket barks once, high and sharp, from the living room, and finally Will goes to get it. Almost shaking, I find the door to the bathroom, shut myself inside, and look into the mirror hard. Don’t do this. My eyes meet hers in the glass, reversed. I think of Brendan, think of the woman I was not so long ago. I’ve made terrible mistakes, yes. And maybe my work has taken too much out of me, and I haven’t been able to truly be there for him and our family. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. There is a part of me that hasn’t given up hoping I could still win back his trust and go home again. But I’ll never have a chance at that if I turn to Will now, no matter how comforting his arms might feel in the moment.

I hear Cricket at the door coming to look for me but stay a moment longer, splashing my face with cold water, and then using Will’s towel. Even that feels too intimate. The right thing to do is clear. I still know where true north is.

With Cricket trailing me, I walk down the little hall to the living area, trying to find the words that will let Will know I’ve always cared for him, which is exactly why I have to leave now. That I can’t give what isn’t mine to offer. That we can’t stay broken on that raft, not even for each other. Not for Jenny. Not for anyone or anything. We have to let go and swim like hell, alone, because that’s the only way to any shore that matters.

He’s just disconnecting, the heavy plastic receiver in his hand looking alien and incomplete. “They found a car that might be Shannan Russo’s. The Sonoma County helicopter spotted it late today. Denny’s crew is heading up at dawn to check it out.”

“We have to be there.”

“I agree. We’ll leave at six. Dress warm, okay? It might be a long day.”

“Will…” I say, needing to settle where we’ve been, to move through instead of around it. We owe each other that.