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“So you finally pick up.”
The rasp of his tone, the scrape of gravel through an otherwise elegant voice, rakes through me.
I inhale as deeply as possible, keeping him on speakerphone so that I don’t have to hold his haunting voice up to my ear.
“If your cousin or whoever keeps texting me, I’m gonna go to the police.”
“No you won’t.”
“I will. I swear to God. This is unhinged.”
“Unhinged? No, what’s unhinged, Indie, is me being in here while you’re out there… whoring yourself about.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I do. I know what men will want from women like you at weddings.”
“I’m on a fucking yoga retreat. We’re here for healing.”
“Don’t give me that shit.”
“And I don’t have to explain myself to you… ever again.”
“You do while I’m rotting in here.”
“Well, I had nothing to do with that!”
“But I bet you’re just so happy I’m in here. Aren’t you?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
“I can’t, Indie. You owe me.”
“Owe you? How on Earth do you figure that?”
“I don’t see you visiting me… or working to get me released from this shithole.”
“Why would I do that when we both know what you did to me?”
“I didnothing.”
“Yes, you did. You hurt me.”
“I loved you. I still love you.”
“You stopped me having any life apart from you. You tried to cut me off from everyone. You smashed my apartment up more times than I can count. You cut up my clothes. You stalked me. You threatened me and my family. And we both know what happened that last day…”
“As if you didn’t want it, Indie…”
A single tear falls without warning onto the phone in my trembling hand.
“Leave me alone. Please.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll go to the police.”
“And I’ll get someone to visit that red-headed bitch you think is your friend in the night.”
