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“We have to go to the police, now.”
“No! We don’t have to do that! I’ll take care of everything, I promise. You understand, don’t you?” He grips my hands tightly and pulls me closer to him. “You’re made of dark waters, like me.” And he says it again: “We’re the same, you and me.”
“No, Luis, we’re not. We’re not the same.”
“No one loves me like you do,” he says. “You’re obsessed with me, see? And I’m obsessed with you.” And I think back to all the times he said it.You’re obsessed with me.And I thought it was pure, true love, and all the time it was something so much darker than that.
“You and me, we would do anything for each other. We’d kill for each other. I’ve always known that about you. But Isabelle, she wanted to break us. I made a mistake, I admit that. But I couldn’t let her do that to us. You see that, babe, don’t you?”
“Why did you go there that night?” I ask.
“Because she called me after you left. And she said she told you about the baby, and I was free now, to be with her. But I didn’t want to be with her, Anna! I didn’t want the baby. So I turned on the light in my shed and put some music on and locked the door so that when you came home, you’d think I was in there. Then I went to her house and I tried to talk to her, I really did, but she wouldn’t listen. And she was going to tell Patrick, and Perry at the gallery, and everyone she knew that she was having my baby, and I couldn’t do that to us, babe. You see that, don’t you?”
I dislodge one hand and wipe my cheeks. He grabs it again.
“Did you push her down the stairs?”
“She was so mad, she threw the ring I gave her at my face and she was going to tell everybody, and I pretended I was sorry, I pretended to kiss her and I said, ‘Let’s go upstairs, let’s go to bed,’ and then…” He raises his shoulder slightly. “She fell,” he says, simply.
“Luis, no. Oh God.” I feel sick. And I don’t want to ask my next question—I don’t want to, but I know I have to. “What about Monica?”
“That was an accident. I swear to god. I wanted to go with you to that party, remember that party?”
“Of course I remember that party.”
“I knew she’d taken back a piece of cake from the cafeteria that day,” he continues. “She always did that. Remember how she always did that? She’d keep it in a tin, with flowers on it, remember that? And pick at it while she finished her assignment.”
“Yes, I remember,” I say.
“I crushed some peanuts together into crumbs then I told her to meet me somewhere, that I had a present for her, so she’d be out of the room. I went in there and sprinkled it over the piece of cake and took her Epipen. I rushed back to where she was waiting, and gave her a drawing pad, remember how she used to draw all the time? She thought we were going to meet later at the party, but I’d already fallen in love with you, you see? I just wanted it to be you and me. I thought she would be sick and go to bed. I didn’t know she woulddie, I swear to god I didn’t know.”
I drop my head in my hands but he grabs them again, holds on to them so tightly he’s crushing them. “You understand, don’t you?” June makes a sound in the corner, like a moan.
“And—and my m-mother?”
He lets go of my hands and grabs a fistful of his hair. “Your mother, she was nasty, you know that. She said to me there was something not right about me, and she found out some things about me, some things I did that landed me in detention when I was a kid, but I wasn’t like that anymore, not since I met you, and I told her that, but she wanted to tell you, she wanted to break us up, Anna. And I…”
He doesn’t say anymore, just looks around wildly, rubbing his face, pulling at his hair.
“After she died, I panicked. I didn’t know how to tell you. I pretended she was still alive. The police said it was an accident anyway, and you two weren’t speaking at the time. And you never liked her, she was horrible. But then when Carla was born you wanted to reconcile and I… I just kept pretending! I pretended she’d moved away, I picked a place as far away from us as I could, and I bought a PO box in her name, and I really thought you’d give up, but you didn’t, and you invited her to Christmas and birthdays and I’d send flowers and send emails and you’d call her and leave messages but she’d never call back, just send you emails, and it just got out of hand.”
“But you sent the flowers inmyname, not yours.” I cry. “Why? Did you rent the box in my name too?”
He takes my face in his hands.
“I thought if anyone found out, it would be easier to explain that way, see?” He looks at me, pleading. “I’d had enough of all the lies, of sending flowers, of pretending your mother was alive. I was going to send you a letter, from her, to say she never wanted anything to do with us, that she was moving away and not to contact her again. I madeThe Nestfor us, Anna! I put all that stuff in it, your mother’s things, the Epipen, some other things you wouldn’t know about... I wanted to get rid of these things and start again. But I couldn’t just burn them, I had to do something more, something transformative, a new beginning. That’s why I had to make something big out of it, something forus. That’s why I took Isabelle’s ring and put it in. And then I was going to sell it, it would sit somewhere, in a gallery, and only I’d know, and it would be like a song, to us. Do you see?”
I’m shaking my head, crying so much I can’t speak.
“We don’t need to tell anyone anything, Anna. No one needs to know. Not about your mother, not about Isabelle, not about Monica.”
“Oh god, Luis. Yes, they do.” I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “They will know about Isabelle, they’ll figure it out, and there’s June…”
“Don’t worry about June, babe. I’ll take care of June.”
“You have to let her go! I’ll tell everyone what you did if you hurt her—you have to let her go, Luis!” I’ve turned around and I’m on my knees, scrambling to get to my feet but he grabs my ankle and I fall, hitting my head against the corner of the coffee table. He’s yelling for me to stop. He’s shouting:Where are you going? What are you doing?He wants me to listen, but I can’t listen anymore, and I’m screaming and kicking him and there’s a second when he lets go and yelps in pain and there’s a door next to the fireplace and I’ve lunged through it and slammed it shut after me and I lean against it, panting.
It’s June’s bedroom.
