Page 39 of Soft Tissue Damage
But Leon has hung up.
I gaze at my blank phone screen, frowning. What the hell was that about?
10
Cullan
Aweek later, the following Wednesday, Elena comes over for babysitting. I’ve missed her like oxygen. I’ve been tracking her movements every hour we’ve been apart, and I watch the dot on my phone screen that represents her as it draws closer to my house. Every moment we’ve been apart is torture.
“What’s for dinner?” Leon asks as he comes into the kitchen. I invited him to have dinner with us before he heads over to his mom’s.
I lock my phone and slip it into my pocket, and turn to my son. “Lasagna. Can you please put this salad on the table?”
Elena couldn’t be here for bedtime, soRosie is already asleep. I hear Elena’s knock on the door, and as Leon goes to answer it, I step out of the kitchen into the hallway that leads to my study, but I don’t go to my study. I stand just out of sight, and I wait.
The next hour is going to be difficult. I wish it wasn’t going to be so painful for Elena, but it has to be done. If it were me, I would want to know.
Leon and Elena come into the kitchen, and he fetches her a Coke while they chat about his studies and her day at the diner. I burn with anger as I listen to my son lie to Elena, telling her he spent hours in the library this afternoon.
While they talk, I send a message and a series of photos to Elena’s number from an anonymous burner phone.
Hi, Elena. You don’t know me, but my name is Angie, and I know your boyfriend Leon…
Elena’s phone buzzes repeatedly. She goes on talking, but a moment later, she trails off.
“Leon, what’s this?” Elena asks in a shaky voice. “Who’s Angie?”
With my back against the wall, I close my eyes. I hate hearing Elena in pain.
“Angie?” Leon replies. “What do you mean, who’s Angie?”
There’s a moment of silence, and I picture Leon grabbing the phone from her and studying the dozens of photos and screenshots I sent to Elena. Most of the photos are of Leon and Angie in bed together, but I cropped out the nudity for Elena’s sake. There are a lot of sextingmessages, and many comparisons that Leon makes between this other woman and Elena. The messages include details about Leon’s life that Elena is familiar with, like which classes he’s taking and his schedule. It’s unmistakably authentic. I know it is, because I found it all on Leon’s phone.
In a dismissive tone, he says, “It’s nothing. Just someone fucking with you. Ignore it.”
My eyes narrow. My son is a liar on top of everything else.
“But that’s you in these photos,” Elena cries.
“They’re old photos.”
“You didn’t buy that T-shirt you’re wearing in this one until two weeks ago,” she points out. “You wore it on one of our dates.” The enormity of what she’s learning suddenly hits Elena, and she breaks down, sobbing. “Were you with this woman the same day you saw me?”
“I swear, it’s nothing,” Leon says desperately. “Just delete the messages. I used to be friends with that girl, and she’s trying to make me look bad.”
“Friends who go to bed together? Friends who say all this to each other?”
I presume that she’s pointing out a particularly lurid sext.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me, Elena. You’re the one I want.”
I know from text messages between Leon and his friends that he doesn’t feel anything for Angie. He’s not falling in love with her or confused about which womanhis heart belongs to. Leon does seem to care about Elena, but he’s frustrated and resentful that she won’t sleep with him. That’s no excuse for his behavior. He should have broken up with her instead of cheating on her, because now he’s hurt her.
I check the security footage in the kitchen on my phone so I can see what they’re doing. Leon isn’t comforting Elena. He’s just standing there watching her cry.
“We all make mistakes. No one’s perfect,” he mutters, sounding like a petulant child.
“You’re right.” Elena wipes her face and takes a deep breath. “Leon, there’s something I have to tell you too.”
