He had not acted impulsively.
He had planned this.
“You can’t stay there forever,” I told him, trying to sound steadier than I felt. “People will notice. Someone will come looking for me.”
He smiled again.
“I took two weeks off work. I brought food, water, and everything else I need.”
“You planned to sit there for two weeks?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Someone will check on me.”
“Who?”
He gestured toward the empty road.
“You’ve barely spoken to anyone since Mom died. You stopped seeing your friends. You turn down invitations. Sarah is thousands of miles away. You wanted to be left alone, Dad.”
His smile widened slightly.
“Now you are.”
The truth in his words struck me harder than the cruelty.
He was right about one thing.
I had isolated myself.
After Margaret’s passing, friends from church had called. Neighbors had invited me to dinner. People had offered to help with repairs, groceries, and yard work.
