Page 66 of Speak of the Devil
Guess you forgot. I’ll wait while you block it now.
Cat:
Too late. You’ve already found me.
I drove by Parkdale twice and saw her once when she was leaving for the day. I didn’t dare approach, figuring we were long past having a civil discussion. Though, I’m not sure that spying on her was any better. I sit back in the iron chair, and type:
Want to hear something really creepy?
Cat:
No.
I text to cajole her:
Come on . . .
Cat:
Fine. What?
Me:
I knew where you were all along.
Why the fuck did I think telling her that was a good idea? Fucking hell. I roll my eyes, another reminder of her. She’s cute when she’s annoyed. When wasn’t she adorable, though? Not one memory comes to mind.
Cat:
It’s so creepy you were stalking me like a celebrity.
I’m stuck on how to read between the lines. Is she fucking with me, being funny, or playing along. I type:
I’m not sure I know how to do it differently. I thought I was special.
Three dots roll across the bubble, then die.Fuck. I thought she’d find the play on words charming. The three dots return, and another message pops up:
You were.
If she wanted to gut me, she did it in two words. Scraping my fingers through my hair, I stare at the screen. There isn’t anything clever I can say to make the words taste better.
She has a right to be mad. I was hurt and took it out on the one who felt in control of my pain. No excuses. Just facts. So it’snot surprising she’d strike when she can. Unknowingly, I gave her the perfect setup for that reaction.
Another message pops onto the screen from her:
You didn’t have to spy on me. You could have stopped by to say hi instead.
Sobering.I remind myself that I didn’t stay away because I wanted to. I kept my distance because she needed me to. She needed neat and orderly, a life she could fit in a little garden home plot. So why am I fucking it up for her? I know why.
Am I ready to admit it?
Not out loud. Not to her. Not even to me fully. I’m still grappling with who I was then and who I want to be, and I’m currently stuck between the two.
I text:
I thought you’d refuse to see me or, at the very least, throw me out.
Cat:
