Daddy, I want more

He kept saying, "It's my fault." That's what you tell David when you tell him what's going on.

Before I could stop him, he strode to the door, wrenched it open, and left.

To that point, I had kept quiet about the incident. In fact, not even my new closest friend Naria, whom I saw every day during my internship at the animal hospital.

In an effort to put Dr. Johnson and our actions out of my mind, I made a conscious effort to block them out. Instead, my mind kept returning to David. I was becoming more and more irritated by the day that he didn't bother to phone or text. Maintaining concentration on it was less of a challenge. To what extent did he really feel no need for resolution? It just took ten seconds to erase three years of work.

Unless he was making a move to increase his own authority, this makes little sense. Perhaps he had been holding out for my phone call.

And maybe I'd been avoiding it ever since I'd done what I did to his dad. Is there any use in informing him? I didn't want to be the straw that broke the camel's back in the already tepid bond between father and kid. I knew I was being a coward, but I also couldn't see any benefit to coming clean. It wouldn't do anything but to hurt people.

Although David may not have felt the need for it, I was desperate for it and could not wait any longer. I sent him a text message on Friday, nine days after we broke up.

Jessica: Will we be discussing this?

Talk about what, David?

Were you f*cking serious? No, I couldn't possibly go into detail about anything via words.

Jessica: The comments I made while swimming. What exactly are you up to at the moment?

David: I'm occupied with Call of Duty.

I ground my teeth together. And of course. He had been doing nothing except lounging around and playing computer games.

Are you and your dad at home right now?

Contrary to what you may have heard, David says.

My chest opened up and my breath loosened. It's something I'm capable of doing. Ignore the sudden, sharp twinge of sadness at the prospect of never meeting Dr.Jonson again and hurry up and go.

Please tell me I may visit, Jessica.

David: You feeling the horniness?

What? He mistook my inquiry regarding his father's whereabouts for an invitation to have sexual relations in the absence of the man of the home. Un-fucking-real. Was he trying to act like the split never happened? There was a rapid blinking of the three dots.

Yes, you are welcome to visit, David said.

As I pulled into David's driveway, my stomach began to churn and churn. I turned off the vehicle and stood there staring at the house's dark windows, gathering my courage to do what needed to be done.

Like before, I entered through the main entrance without knocking. It was all for nothing. If I were to shout, David, who was probably in the basement, wouldn't hear me. As I strode into the living room and turned left toward the basement entrance, the flip-flops smacked on the bottoms of my feet. While I was intent on achieving my objective, I didn't even notice the change until he said anything.

"Jessica?"

I mean, Jesus Christ. My throat closed up like the Sahara and my mind froze. I accidentally said, "He stated you weren't here."

The good doctor's visage twisted into an unnatural look. A mixture of remorse, bewilderment, and pain. Maybe even a touch of dread. I felt like trash and looked away from him to the pile of mail in his hands and the takeaway container on the kitchen counter. In the air, there was a subtle hint of garlic.

He straightened his spine and hunched his shoulders. "I've only recently returned home."

"Oh." I hardly raised my voice to a whisper. "Sorry."

He looked down at me with an inclined head. I said, "Why are you in here?" I had this idea that you and David.

"We did. All I want to do is have a conversation with him. Also, be sure he knows the relationship is finished.

Dr. Johnson wore jeans and a fitting t-shirt, and I tried very hard not to imagine what he looked like without his clothes. I took a few slow, deep breaths and looked up to meet his eyes.

Speaking softly, he replied, "You haven't informed him about what I did."

It was a mistake, so I quickly put it right by saying, "What we did," and adding, "and I'm not going to."

The question is, what caused his apparent distress. Why didn't he feel relieved? "Why?"

Since doing so would not alter the past events. To say nothing of the state of affairs between you and him, all this will do is do him harm. David's bond with his dad was tenuous, but I didn't feel the need to bring it up. I don't want to put what you have at risk.

Dr. Johnson slumped down, hands on hips, shoulders drooping. "That's really kind of you, but-"

My phone just started beeping because I got a message, so there was a quick end to our conversation. I took it out of my bag and examined the display.

I suppose my dad has arrived home, David. My attention was drawn to the sound of the garage door opening. Spectacularly effective timing, David. I hung up my phone and gave Dr.Jonson a serious look. No, I don't intend to harm him. "And you're going to tell him about it?" For some reason, I shook my head. If he dislikes me, that's OK. Not you, however.

I grabbed the doorknob and opened it before he could say anything. As I ran down the stairs, past the portraits of David and I that were hanging on the wall, the sounds of mock gunfire got louder and louder.

At the bottom of the stairs, I slid to a halt.