“Okay.” He kisses me again, but I can tell he’s not convinced. “I’ll call you later. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I spend two hours needlessly scouring the kitchen and trying not to think. It does occur to me that I’ve spent a lot of time intentionallynotthinking about things.
It’s fruitless, I know, but I text Sabin again. Then, I leave him another voice message.
I go for a draining long run and try to excise the tension consuming me.
It’s been a while since I’ve been alone for more than a few hours at a time, and making dinner just for myself sharply reminds me of the year after graduation when I was alone in my parents’ house in Massachusetts. It was a year when I focused on rebuilding my world and being functional while learning to live again. It was not the happiest year of my life, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. So, I should be able to tolerate being by myself tonight.
I call James to see how the ski trip is going, but I have to leave a voice message. Then, I watch a really terrible Lifetime movie while I eat chips and salsa in bed. Chris calls, but I ignore him. This is probably the first time I’ve refused his call, so he texts me and says he assumes I’ve gone to sleep, so he’ll reach me tomorrow.
I fling the phone onto the floor. Maybe I’m being unreasonably angry, but I don’t care right now. I turn off the light and pull the sheets over my head.
What if Chris is harboring some kind of regret over his wedding day, over Jennifer?
That’s stupid. It was a long time ago. He loves me very much. He is devoted to me. He promised me that we were unbreakable.
Of course, I made him say that while I was fucking him.
He loves me. He loves me,I tell myself over and over.
I just feel like being angry right now, so I allow it.
I feel horrifically alone, and that reminds me of how alone Sabin is, how I cannot stand that for him. But I’m also reminded that I cannot deal with thinking about him too much right now.
He and I are in dangerous territory, that much is clear, and I am frightened to death that we will not emerge unharmed.
The next day feels eternal. I continue to avoid Chris. I cannot call Sabin again. I cannot do anything.
I pace around the quiet house—again. I’m midway between the kitchen and living room on my umpteenth lap circling the huge room when I hear a loud plane. Or a train. Or…
What is that?
I stop walking and listen. Then, I look down at my feet because I think they’re moving, but they don’t appear to be. The noise gets louder, and suddenly, I hear dishes rattling. Quickly, I turn to the kitchen. Yes, the dishes are indeed clinking. The rumbling sound continues to roar through the house, and a growing panic grips me because I finally understand that this must be an earthquake.
I don’t know if it’s going to get worse, if the house is going to collapse or be swallowed up in some kind of fault line.
I don’t know the first fucking thing about earthquakes.
My heart is pounding through my shirt as I stand, unmoving, in the middle of the room.
The middle of the room? Wait, that’s not right. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be in a doorway maybe.
I get my legs to work, and I move myself to stand with my back glued to the entrance of the mudroom.
Then, there is silence again, except for my breathing. I hear the sound of my panting.
My head is buzzing from the fear, and my arms are tingling. So, I just stay where I am because I’m not sure I still know how to walk, and I don’t know if this earthquake is over or if there’ll be another one.
I don’t know the first fucking thing about earthquakes!
Well, except that one should not stand in stupid places like under chandeliers and such, so I press myself harder into the molding and pray this is a support beam.
My phone rings, and I pick it up without even looking at who is calling.
“Hello?” I can tell that my voice sounds weird.
