Russell called the following morning.
I answered while preparing breakfast.
"Hello?"
"Can I speak to Maisie?"
"She's getting ready."
"All right. I'll wait."
I placed the phone on the counter.
Maisie came into the kitchen.
I told her who was calling.
She hurried over.
"Daddy!"
I stepped away to give her privacy.
She talked about school.
She told him what she wanted to do that afternoon.
Then she asked whether he was coming.
I heard Russell answer.
She smiled.
When the call ended, she returned the phone.
"He's coming later."
I nodded.
"That's nice."
She went back to getting ready.
I looked at the phone.
It was strange how quickly a simple call could change her mood.
I hoped Russell understood that.
That afternoon, he arrived.
Maisie met him at the door.
She showed him her drawing again.
He asked where she had put it.
She pointed toward the table.
He smiled.
I watched them.
Then I asked Russell to come into the kitchen.
He followed.
I closed the door partway.
"Have you thought about what I asked you?"
He nodded.
"I have."
"And?"
He looked down.
"I want to tell you everything."
I waited.
He continued.
"But I need you to understand that I wasn't thinking clearly when I left."
I looked at him.
"That doesn't explain why you disappeared."
He nodded.
"I know."
I was beginning to recognize that expression.
The one he wore whenever he reached the edge of an explanation and stopped.
I didn't want another conversation like that.
I wanted something definite.
"Russell, I need you to understand something."
He looked at me.
"I'm not asking you to come back into this marriage today."
He nodded.
"I'm asking you to stop keeping me in the dark."
He looked at the counter.
I continued.
"If there is something you believe I need to know, tell me."
He rubbed his forehead.
"I know."
"Because I cannot keep raising Maisie around unanswered questions."
He looked toward the living room.
"I don't want that either."
"Then we agree on something."
He gave a small nod.
I took a breath.
"Why did you wait until the performance to tell me?"
He looked at me.
"I had been trying to find the courage."
I stared at him.
"Two years?"
He nodded.
I couldn't hide my disbelief.
"You could have called."
"I know."
"You could have written."
"I know."
"You could have answered one of my seventeen calls."
His expression changed.
He looked down.
"I should have."
I shook my head.
I didn't want another apology.
I wanted to understand what had made him behave this way.
He reached inside his shirt.
The folded paper appeared again.
He placed it on the counter.
I looked at it.
"Is this the only thing you have?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
I waited.
He seemed to be gathering himself.
Then he said something that made me pause.
"I didn't bring this because I wanted you to forgive me."
I looked at him.
"Then why?"
"Because I knew I couldn't explain everything without showing you."
I stared at the paper.
It was worn.
The folds were almost permanent.
He had carried it long enough for it to become part of his life.
I reached toward it.
He didn't stop me.
I opened it again.
I read what I could.
But I still didn't understand the full meaning.
I looked up.
"You're going to have to tell me what I'm looking at."
He nodded.
"I will."
"When?"
He took a breath.
"Tonight, after Maisie is asleep."
I studied him.
I wanted to believe him.
But I had learned not to confuse a sincere expression with a reliable promise.
"All right."
He folded the paper again.
I looked toward the living room.
Maisie was calling for him.
He turned immediately.
She wanted him to help her with something.
He went to her.
I remained in the kitchen.
The paper was no longer on the counter.
But I could still see the place where it had been.
That evening, I put Maisie to bed.
She asked whether her father would be there the next morning.
I told her they would talk about it.
She hugged Bunny.
Then she closed her eyes.
I sat beside her until she fell asleep.
When I returned to the living room, Russell was waiting.
The folded paper was in his hands.
He looked at me.
I sat across from him.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said the words I had been holding back for two years.
"Russell, I need the truth more than I need another apology."
He nodded.
He placed the paper on the table.
And this time, he didn't reach for another excuse.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: The Truth Russell Had Carried for Two Years Finally Came Between Us, and I Was Not Prepared for His Explanation
The Morning My Husband Walked Away Without an Argument, Leaving Me With a Little Girl Who Still Believed He Would Come Home
Part 16 of 20
