Page 107 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

My eyes clamp together. “Because we’re not together anymore. Or do you not remember telling a bunch of cops I was hitting you?”

Charlie looks up from his place on the couch, and I turn away, the spiral phone cord wrapping around my body with the movement.

She laughs on the other side of the phone. “Baby, what are you talking about? I would never do that.”

“You— Yes, you did!”

Heavy breaths crackle across the speaker. “I’m sorry if I made you mad. But we can work through it. Come pick me up and I’ll make it up to you.”

My stomach turns. “Emily, what are you not understanding?”

“How can you be so mean to me, Davey? I thought you loved me.”

I pinch the top of my nose. “Yeah, well, not anymore.”

“So that’s it?” she says, her voice breaking. “Baby, come on. Just come and get me and we can talk this out.”

“It’s not fucking happening, Em,” I say raising my voice.

“You can’t break up with me,” she shouts back. “I won’t let you.”

“I can, and I am. Don’t ever call me again. You need help? Call Sam.”

A sob breaks through the receiver, and a black feeling resembling a thundercloud spreads over my very soul.

“You can’t leave me, or I’ll—I’ll . . . I’ll kill myself.”

I nearly punch the wall. “You can’t say that shit to me. You ruined my fucking life!”

“If you don’t come here right now, I’m going to do it. I’m going to slit my wrists and it will all be your fault.”

My heart is pounding, I’m sweating and nauseous. What if she actually tries it? Maybe I should just go . . . one last time.

There’s sobbing on the other end. “Baby, please come. I don’t want to die.”

I open my mouth, ready to say that I’ll be there—that I’ll come wherever she is. But if I do, she’ll do this again and again and again. I can’t let that happen. What we had is finished, over.

“You need help . . . but it won’t be from me.”

I can hear the way her tone shifts, even through the phone. “God, you’re such a fucking disappointment. I always knew you never really loved me.”

It’s as if a burning knife has been stabbed through my heart. Hot tears spill from the corners of my eyes. “I loved you witheverythingI had,” I whisper. “But you— You broke me, Emily.”

Silence.

“I never want to see or hear from you again,” I manage.

“Baby—”

“Goodbye.”

She shouts into the receiver, but I hang up. I’m exhausted and shaking as I rest my forehead against the wall, the urge to break down and cry overwhelming. Did I do the right thing? Maybe I should’ve gone to see her. One last time, for closure. But she’s wasted, so what kind of conversation would that be?

The one person who I should have a conversation with is Sam.

Lifting my head, I dial the familiar number, pacing back and forth as it rings. It goes to the answering machine. “Sam, it’s Dave. Emily . . . she might be in trouble. She’s at some party. Can you go check on her? Sam?”

When he still doesn’t pick up, I try calling again and again. On the fourth time, he finally answers.

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