Chapter 3

02.

I sat in the bedroom, staring blankly at the last text my dad ever sent me.

He sent it right before the accident.

"Ethan, I made some Cajun crawfish for you and Della. She loves them, right?"

"You two need to be patient with each other. It's fine if she doesn't want me moving in. I'm still strong enough to take care of myself."

But that afternoon, a car hit him.

The crawfish were scattered all over the asphalt at the scene.

I had called Della dozens of times, but she brushed me off, saying she was "busy."

I came home from the hospital with bloodshot eyes, only for her to ask why dinner wasn't ready.

"My dad was in a car crash," I told her.

"A crash? I told him not to wander around at his age. He's always making us worry."

"Wait, is he just lying to get attention? Did you actually see him?"

Della sat on the sofa, scrolling through her phone.

A box of takeout seafood sat right next to her.

Anger flared up in me, and I swiped the box off the table, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Della! That's my father! How can you be so heartless?"

Della snapped back, "Ethan, what is wrong with you?"

"He kept making excuses about his health just to move in with us. We're in a critical stage of trying for a baby. He's messy, and it's not good for a child."

"If he moves in, fine, I'll just move out!"

That night ended in a bitter silence.

Della vanished for a whole week.

I spent that entire week at the hospital, never leaving my father's side.

A few times, he woke up from his coma and gripped my hand.

"Where's Della? Ethan, don't upset your wife. Marriage has its ups and downs. You're the man; you have to be the bigger person."

Seeing him covered in tubes while still worrying about my marriage made my throat tighten.

I squeezed his hand and lied to him over and over.

"Dad, Della and I are great. She came to see you this morning while you were asleep."

"See? That bowl of soup over there? She made that for you."

My father nodded weakly.

Not long after, he passed away.

I collapsed by his bed and sobbed, the salt of my tears stinging my face.

I never told him the truth.

Della and I weren't happy, but I didn't want him taking that worry to his grave.

I washed my face and handled the funeral arrangements alone.

By the time everything was done, it was night.

Miraculously, Della had unblocked me.

Her voice over the phone was as impatient as ever.

"Where are you? Don't you know I'm hungry after working late?"

Hungry?

Shouldn't she be full after spending all that time with Zane?

I was exhausted, but I replied anyway.

"My dad died. I'm at the funeral home."

Even through the phone, I could feel her shock.

After a long pause, she offered a stiff apology.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I didn't know. I've been so busy. I'll come get you now."

Ten minutes later, she showed up.

My hair was a mess, and I nearly tripped from exhaustion.

Della didn't even try to catch me.

She just mentioned the Uber was waiting and told me to hurry up.