Chapter 15
Thinking they were trash, she had placed them on a cart. Later she noticed numbers and company names and decided not to throw them away.
She had locked them in the building supervisor’s desk.
The missing evidence had been ten feet from where Marcy fell the entire time.
That should have made the story feel finished.
It didn’t.
Because discovering the truth about the money forced us to face smaller truths about ourselves.
One evening, Dustin came to my workshop.
I was restoring a walnut table for a client.
He stood in the doorway.
“Can I talk to you?”
“You already are.”
He smiled faintly.
I kept sanding.
After a moment, he said, “You still don’t like me.”
I stopped.
“I don’t know you well enough to decide.”
“That’s progress.”
“Don’t get ambitious.”
He laughed.
Surprisingly, so did I.
Then he became serious.
“I was cruel to Marcy sometimes.”
I set the sandpaper down.
He looked at the floor.
“Not physically.”
“I know.”
“I made jokes about things she cared about. I’d correct her in front of people. If we disagreed, I always had to win.”
He swallowed.
“I thought confidence meant never backing down.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
“What changed?”
“Seeing how scared she was.”
I waited.
“Then seeing you,” he added.
I raised an eyebrow.
“You thought I was a good example?”
“No.”
That almost made me laugh again.
He continued.
“I saw you walk into the gym ready to decide exactly what kind of man I was before I said anything.”
The truth stung.
“And you recognized yourself?”
“Yeah.”
So did I.
He leaned against the workbench.
“I don’t want to be that person.”
“Then don’t.”
He frowned.
“That simple?”
“No. Simple isn’t the same as easy.”
He considered that.
Then he nodded.
As he left, he stopped at the door.
“Marcy said you used to teach people how to stay calm under pressure.”
“I tried.”
“Did it work?”
“Sometimes.”
“Think you could teach me?”
I looked at him.
“Not fighting.”
“No.”
“Then maybe.”
He nodded once.
It was not friendship.
May you like
Not yet.
But it was the first honest conversation we had ever had.
