"I was going to tell her." He said it fast. "In the hospital, the first week, I almost did every day. But she was so — she was so scared, and she'd hold my hand and say, you saved my life, and I thought, I'll tell her when she's out. Then she was out, and we were — we were together, by then, and I thought, I'll tell her when it's more solid, when she won't think it's the only reason. And then I read the report. I picked it up for her insurance and I sat in my car in the Highway Patrol lot and read it, and I read my own statement, and your statement, and I —" He shook his head. "And I put it in my glove box. It's still there. I think about it every time I get gas. I thought, if she reads it now, after a year, after I let it go on that long — she'll think everything is a lie. Everything. The hospital, the flowers, all of it. And it wasn't. I love her. That part's not a lie. I'm not — I'm not a guy who goes around doing this. It's the only thing. It's the only thing I ever did like this, and it's the biggest thing, and I can't get it back."
"She thinks her mind is broken," I said. "She doesn't drive on the highway. She sits on the bench by the bike rack holding onto it with both hands. She's been told by a therapist that the one clear thing she remembers isn't real."
"I know."
"You let her think that."
"I know." His voice cracked. "I know. Okay? I know." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Give me some time. Please. Let me do it right. Let me do it — not at work, not like this. Let me sit down with her, at home, and show her the report, and tell her everything. Let me be the one."
I looked at him for a long time. And I want to tell you that I made a good decision, a clear one, for clear reasons. But I think what happened was that I looked at a frightened man leaning against a wall, and I saw a boy sleeping in his father's turnout coat, and I felt sorry for him, and I was also, deep down, relieved — relieved, God help me — that it would be him and not me. That I could go on being beige.
"Thanksgiving," I said. "She has until Thanksgiving to know. After that, I'll tell her myself."