I stared down at the cell phone in my hand. Lynn’s name showed on the screen, but no matter how long I stared at it, I just couldn’t bring myself to press the call button.

Two weeks had passed since Stern drove me–blackout drunk and crying like a baby–home after my first dive. I went for a run that morning, waking up a little before dawn and deciding it was long past time I got my life together.

And it had to start with me.

I was out of shape, despite what my lean frame suggested, and it had been the hardest two miles I’d ever run in my life. After I got back, panting and drenched in sweat, I transitioned into some bodyweight exercises, focusing on my core.

Breakfast consisted of a protein shake, greens powder, and some oatmeal, though mainly because that’s about all the food I had in the house. I showered, reveling in the hot water as it massaged the tension out of my shoulders and back, then threw on a towel and headed out into the bedroom.

Now, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, hair damp, but no longer so wet that water beads were dripping down my neck, staring at the phone. I didn’t want to make the call; I didn't want to open the door to the potential agony I would find on the other side, but I needed to.

Two weeks since I stumbled into Bob’s Dive Bar and suffered the horror of the dungeon. Two weeks, during which the mental wounds I’d suffered started to scab over and heal. I’d gone back to Bob’s a few times, but never to dive. Each time, I sat at the bar and asked my questions. Most weren’t answered, but some were.

What I’d learned was that Bob was some kind of immortal being, locked in a war with another immortal being. The jukebox was a prison, of sorts, in which Bob had managed to trap his enemy.

The catch? It would only remain trapped there if it wasn’t allowed to build up enough power to break through its bonds.

The records were generated by its power, each one the seed of a dungeon. Diver’s, like Stern—and now myself, apparently—challenged the dungeons with the goal of removing their cores. Each time a core was extracted, the jukebox lost some of its power. That’s what I’d done: take some of its power away. In return, I’d been rewarded with some power of my own–a new level–and ten grand in cash.

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I was in a bit of a tough spot. I had no job and, more importantly, no job prospects. And, if I’m being honest, I really didn’t relish the idea of trying to find another corporate gig. On the other hand, I now had access to a secret that, as long as I was willing to risk my health and sanity, would pay me extremely well. My payout from my first dive would tide me over for another couple of weeks, but I still had a mortgage, credit card debt, and a whole host of other bills to pay every month. It was hard to say “no” to that kind of money.

I could have sold the house and moved on, but, despite all the bad memories—memories I’d been responsible for—this was still home. And I wanted it to be home to more than just me, again, even if it took months or years to make that happen.

I tapped Lynn’s name in my contacts, and the phone started ringing. My heart was thundering in my chest. Maybe it makes me a bit of a coward, but I was relieved when the call went to voicemail. Still, my chest ached when her voice came over the line, telling me she wasn’t available and to leave a message.

The phone beeped.

“Hey, Lynn. It’s Del,” I began. “Uh, I want to start by saying that I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for leaving or taking the girls-” I stopped to clear the lump in my throat and took a deep breath. “I’m actually glad that you did. It hurt- Don’t get me wrong. It hurt like hell… But it also gave me some perspective.

“I don’t expect you to come running back just because I called to apologize; I know I have to get myself right, first. But I wanted to let you know that I’m working on it. I want us to be a family again—for real, this time. Not the broken imitation of one that we were before.

“Do me a favor, please, and tell the girls I love them, and that I’m so sorry I ruined everything. I’m going to work extra hard to make sure they get the daddy they deserve, going forward. I miss you all so much…

“Please… forgive me.”

My last words came out barely more than a whisper, and silence hung in the air for a long few seconds before I tapped the button to end the call. A tear splashed across the screen, and I set my phone on the bed next to me, then stared out the window at the snowflakes that were lazily drifting by, occasionally sparkling under a few rays of the morning light that managed to sneak through the cloud cover.

Not more than a minute or two later, my phone buzzed with a new text message.

I looked down.

Forgiveness is hard for me to find right now, Del. But don’t let that stop you. Talk soon. -L

It wasn’t the message I’d hoped for, but nor was it the one I’d feared. A wave of something I’d been afraid to let myself experience washed through me then: hope. I had a long path before me, but for the first time in a very long time, I knew where that path led.

…I also knew where it would travel through.

It was time to head back to the Dive Bar. There was another dungeon with my name on it.