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I watch him disappear, and Hunter’s words come to mind.
‘He’ll be so patient.’
It’s quiet inside the house. The only light is the lamp in my bedroom that Bridget has left on for me. I creep into the kitchen and pull the biggest glass from the cupboard, filling it to the brim with water. After a few tentative sips, I dump the rest down the sink. As I turn to leave, I notice my sister’s mobile phone charging on the bench. I tell myself to keep walking, to go to bed. But I don’t listen. Instead, I reach for the phone and scroll through her list of contacts until I find Hunter. I run my thumb across his name.
‘Don’t you dare,’ I say aloud. Then I dial his number and press the phone to my ear.
He answers after a few rings, voice groggy with sleep. ‘Bridget?’
I close my eyes at the sound of his voice. It’s the most soothing sound in the world in my drunken state.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks.
I don’t speak, just listen.
‘Annie?’
He knows. Of course he knows. He knows me better than anyone, even though I told him that he doesn’t know me at all. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey.’
I swallow. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘Lots of things, but mostly for getting drunk tonight.’
‘Ah.’
My back slides down the wall until I’m seated on the floor. ‘You were right. I’m a cliché.’
He exhales into the phone. ‘You’re not a cliché. I’m an arsehole.’
We’re silent a moment.
‘Do you need me to come over?’ he asks.
I shake my head.
‘Annie?’
I forgot he can’t see me. ‘No, don’t do that. I’m fine.’ I listen for noise in the background. ‘Is she there with you?’
‘Who?’
I’m thirsty again. ‘Her. The woman you tried to tell me about.’
‘No. No, she’s not here.’
I lick my lips and realise they’re numb.
‘You still there?’ he asks.
‘Yeah.’ I’m not ready to hang up yet. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
My thoughts are messy. ‘Do you think I should go see my dad? Will that fix some of the broken bits?’
