Megan came too.
Jake barely spoke during the drive.
Once we were sitting in my parents’ living room, he said, “Call him.”
Megan frowned. “Who?”
“Ryan.”
“What?”
“Call him and tell him to come.”
She hesitated. Then she did.
Ryan answered on the third ring.
Megan put him on speaker. “Hey.”
“Meg?”
“Can you come to my in-laws’ house?”
There was a pause. “Why?”
“Jake knows.”
A much longer pause.
Then Ryan said, “Okay.”
He arrived about 40 minutes later.
I hadn’t seen him in years.
Honestly, he looked different.
Thinner, but healthier.
Clear-eyed. Nervous.
He stood near the doorway like he wasn’t sure he had permission to sit.
Jake looked at him.
“How long have you been sober?”
“Seven months.”
“Really?”
He pulled his phone out.
He showed Jake messages from his sponsor.
His rehab discharge paperwork.
A schedule from a recovery program.
None of it proved what he would do tomorrow.
But it proved he hadn’t invented the entire story.
Ryan said, “I know you don’t owe me anything.”
Jake said nothing.
Ryan looked at Megan.
“She shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Megan stared at him. “Ryan.”
“No. She shouldn’t have.”
He looked back at Jake.
“I asked her not to tell you at first.”
