[Georgia 03] Fallen

he checked his pizza to make sure they’d gotten the order right.
    “Well.” He used his thumb to twist the wedding ring on his finger. “I guess I should go.”
    “All right.”
    He didn’t move. Neither did Sara. A dog started barking outside, the high-pitched yips traveling through the open windows. Sara knew there was a post and water bowl by the front door for people who brought their pets to the restaurant. She also knew that Will’s wife had a little dog named Betty, and that the care and feeding fell mostly to him.
    The yipping intensified. Will still made no move to leave.
    She said, “That sounds a lot like a Chihuahua.”
    He listened intently, then nodded. “I think you might be right.”
    “There you are.” Dale was finally back from the restroom. “Listen, I got a call from the hospital …” He looked up at Will. “Hi.”
    Sara made the introductions. “Dale Dugan, this is Will Trent.”
    Will gave a tight nod. Dale returned it.
    The dog kept barking, a piercing, panicked yelp. Sara could tell from Will’s expression that he was prepared to die rather than acknowledge ownership.
    She found some mercy in her heart. “Dale, I know you need to get to the hospital. Thanks so much for lunch.”
    “Sure.” He leaned in and kissed her squarely on the lips. “I’ll call you.”
    “Great,” she managed, resisting the urge to wipe her mouth. She watched the two men exchange another tight nod that made Sara feel like the only fire hydrant at the dog park.
    Betty’s yips intensified as Dale walked across the parking lot. Will mumbled something under his breath before pushing open the door. He untied the leash and scooped up the dog with one hand, keeping the pizza box steadied in the other. The barking stopped immediately. Betty tucked her head into his chest. Her tongue lolled out.
    Sara petted the dog’s head. There were fresh sutures crisscrossing her narrow back. “What happened?”
    Will’s jaw was still clenched. “She got into it with a Jack Russell.”
    “Really?” Unless the Jack Russell had a pair of scissors for paws, there was no way another dog had made the marks.
    He indicated Betty. “I should get her home.”
    Sara had never been to Will’s house, but she knew the street that he lived on. “Aren’t you going right?” She clarified, “This way?”
    Will didn’t answer. He seemed to be gauging whether or not he could lie to her and get away with it.
    She pressed, “Don’t you live off Linwood?”
    “You’re the opposite direction.”
    “I can cut through the park.” She started walking, giving him no choice. They were silent as they headed down Ponce de Leon. The traffic noise was loud enough to fill the void, but even the exhaust from the cars couldn’t overshadow the fact that they were in the middle of a brilliant spring day. Couples walked down the street hand in hand. Mothers pushed baby carriages. Runners darted across four lanes of traffic. The cloud cover from this morning had rolled eastward, exposing a sky of denim blue. There was a steady breeze in the air. Sara clasped her hands behind her back and looked down at the broken sidewalk. Tree roots pushed against the concrete like gnarled old toes.
    She glanced at Will. The sun picked out the sweat on his brow. There were two scars on his face, though Sara had no idea what had caused them. His upper lip had been split open at some point, then badly stitched together, giving a raffish quality to his mouth. The other scar followed the line of his left jaw and dipped into his collar. When she’d first met him, she’d taken the scars for signs of boyhood mischief, but knowing his history, knowing that he had grown up in state care, Sara now assumed the damage had a darker story.
    Will glanced at her and she looked away. He said, “Dale seems like a nice guy.”
    “Yes, he does.”
    “Doctor, I guess.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Looked like a good kisser.”
    She smiled.
    Will shifted Betty in his hand to get a better grip. “I guess you’re dating him.”
    “Today was our first date.”
    “You seemed friendlier than that.”
    Sara stopped walking. “How’s your wife, Will?”
    His answer didn’t come quickly. His gaze fell somewhere over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen her in four months.”
    Sara felt an odd sense of betrayal. His wife was gone and Will had not called her. “You’re separated?”
    He stepped aside so that a runner could pass. “No.”
    “Is she missing?”
    “Not