Keith: I’m still at work, Clementine. Let me talk to Gavin. He’ll pick you up.
I’m stunned by his message. His rejection stings deep.
His text feels like a slap and my hands itch to type a fitting reply, something along the lines that he didn’t call me Clementine when he was fucking me last night. But for once in my life, I think before acting upon something.
Me: Don’t worry, I’ll call him myself.
After taking a deep breath, I leave for Ann’s office.
27
KEITH
“Did she call you?” I ask Gavin without wasting time with things like hello.
“Do I have fucking wings on my back?” he barks back into the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not Cupid and definitely not your messenger. I was supposed to pick up your girl. That was my only job. She messaged me, saying she is staying the night in her office. I’m not playing pigeon, exchanging your love messages.”
I ignore his crazy comments about Clementine being my girl or our love-message exchange. “Staying the night? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Listen, Adams, if you have some problem, take it somewhere else. I’ve got too many of my own to listen to other people’s shit.” He ends the call without giving any explanation.
She is staying at Vanshionista. With whom?
My fingers tighten around the bottle of Jack keeping me company on the floor of my bedroom.
Doesn’t she know it’s not safe out there? We still haven’t found the fucker Mikhail Lebedev. I look at my phone lying next to me.
Is she pissed off after my text?
God, doesn’t she know I’m more angry at myself than anyone.
I look at Melanie’s pictures with guilt. I can’t even meet her eye today.
I cheated on her. I cheated on my wife.
I know in my head that it’s an insane thought. I can’t cheat on her, as she’s no more. But for me, she was never fully gone. She stayed with me these past ten years, just in a different way.
Hearing Clementine’s words this morning, or should I say Melanie’s words from Clementine’s mouth, I got shit scared.
I couldn’t stay in the apartment, realizing that she is not Melanie. She is different.
But in so many ways, the same.
My brain’s all fucked up!
When I was with her, the way we made love. No! The way we fucked, was new.
But this morning, was so…typical.
Something I haven’t experienced in so long. The absence of a cold bed next to my side, waking up to someone’s smile. Things that, when other couples did them, made me jealous to my bones. Things that I thought I’d never experience again.
But this morning, there it was. All those things, in my bedroom, wrapped in a twenty-five-year-old girl’s body, but not mine to take.
Pulling another long gulp of the drink, I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes. Visions of last night I’m trying so hard to avoid find an escape nevertheless.