Chapter 5 - WHAT NATALIE HAD ACTUALLY ASKED FOR
Damian contacted Natalie through the treatment center’s former family counselor.
He did not receive her number immediately.
The counselor contacted Natalie first.
Three hours later Damian’s phone rang.
Wisconsin number.
He answered.
Neither spoke.
Then Natalie said:
“Hi.”
Damian sat down on the kitchen floor.
The same kitchen where Lucas ate cereal every morning.
“You’re alive.”
Natalie began crying.
“Yes.”
Damian covered his eyes.
For months he had never legally believed she was dead.
But emotionally, the family had been trained to live as if she were unreachable forever.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did.”
His eyes opened.
“When?”
“January.”
That was eight months ago.
“Celeste said you didn’t want contact.”
Natalie went silent.
Then:
“She told me you weren’t ready.”
Damian’s breathing changed.
Natalie continued.
“She said Lucas was finally stable and you were afraid I’d undo everything.”
Damian remembered his own words.
I can’t put him through another goodbye.
He had said them.
Celeste had apparently transformed fear into prohibition.
“I never said you couldn’t call him.”
“I know that now.”
“Why did you keep using Celeste?”
“Because you asked her to handle communication.”
The accusation was quiet.
Accurate.
Damian closed his eyes.
“Initially.”
“She said nothing changed.”
“What were you calling about every Sunday?”
“Lucas.”
Natalie’s voice broke.
“I asked what he was doing. Whether he still liked dinosaurs. Whether he made the first-grade soccer team.”
Damian looked toward the refrigerator.
Lucas’s team photo was attached with a magnet.
“Did she tell you?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you send anything?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Birthday cards. Drawings. A little photo album.”
Damian’s stomach dropped.
None had reached Lucas.
“Where?”
“I mailed them to Celeste’s office because she said seeing my name at the house would upset him.”
Damian almost laughed from disbelief.
Natalie continued.
“I sent a letter for you too.”
“When?”
“March.”
He whispered:
“I never got it.”
Natalie stopped crying.
The silence became sharper.
“What did it say?” Damian asked.
“That I’d been sober six months.”
His throat tightened.
“And?”
“That I wanted to start supervised visits with Lucas whenever you and his therapist thought it was appropriate.”
Damian stared at the floor.
May you like
Celeste had not been hiding chaos.
She had been hiding progress.
