Page 95 of The Way I Used to Be

“No. I’m not stalking you.”

“Then what are you doing? Because this—this is really fucking creepy, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

Silence.

More silence.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks.

“No.” True.

“Wha—”

“I cared!” I blurt out.

“What?”

“I cared about you. I always cared about you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, like a verbal shrug. Can’t tell what it means.

“Okay?”

“Well, I don’t know what to say, Eden. I mean, I haven’t spoken to you in years. This is just—this is really weird.”

“Did you know?”

“Did I know what?” he asks.

“That I cared?”

He hesitates, probably trying to decide if he should just hang up on me. He sighs and I can tell he’s also rolling his eyes; I can see him so clearly in my mind. “Sometimes, I guess.”

“I lied to you. A lot. God, I don’t even know if you remember. Do you? Do you even remember me?”

“Yeah, of course I remember you, Eden. I remember everything.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“You don’t sound good, Eden. Should I call someone for you?”

“Do you remember what I told you my middle name was?”

“Eden, why have you been calling me?” he demands, ignoring my question.

“Marie, right, remember?”

“Yeah, Marie, I remember.”

“That was a lie too.”

“What?”

“It’s Anne.”

“Are you drunk?”