25

ANNA

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I pace my apartment floor with a canned margarita Monica left behind, trying to clear my head and not panic-call anyone. There could be explanations. I can’t jump off the deep end here.

First, what do I know? I know he is aware of the affair, and he’s got evidence, and he slashed paintings of his wife’s body like a sociopath, and those piles of paintings were all there every time I was at his place asking for information about Henry. Oh, my God, I tried to sleep with him. I would have. Oh, my—what if he rejected me because that’s what was in the bedroom the whole time, and I obviously needed to be kept away from it? Am I in a horror movie?

Okay, but then what if, just what if, anger upon finding out about the affair made him cut up the intimate paintings in a rage? That was understandable, right? But still, he keeps them all like a creepy doll collection, which is very unsettling. I can’t just leap to the conclusion that because he knew about the affair it makes him a killer. That’s a big leap. There’s still Eddie and drugs and a thousand other possibilities. I have said all along, maybe the affair and his death are not even connected. I need to keep my head on straight here. I need to calm down.

There’s a tap at my apartment door, and I jump and lose my breath. Oh, God. Is it him? He didn’t see me in his place. It can’t be him.

“Hello?” I call a few feet away from my front door, eyeing a softball bat on a shelf and listening for a voice outside.

“It’s Cass,” she says, and I almost collapse with relief. I pull open the door, and she can see my anxiety immediately.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I sent you a message saying I was gonna stop by,” she says, and I pull her by the arm to come in and shut the door behind her.

“I didn’t get it, I—”

“Did something happen?” she asks as I’m looking through pockets and then my purse for my phone. I pat down my body with both hands.

“Oh, no. I dropped it. Oh, God. Something’s very wrong, Cass,” I say, feeling the tears trying to push in even though I just said I would keep my head. “I was at Callum’s, and I must have dropped my phone when I went out the window. I... Shit. I...”

“Anna, hey, it’s gonna be okay. What happened? Why did you go out a window?” she says in this mix of a maternal and take-charge way that catches me off guard.

I turn into a frightened child who can’t string a sentence together all of a sudden, because it feels like the weight of all of it is starting to crash down all at once, and my chest hurts, and I can’t steady my breath. I tell her about the paintings, and she seems less surprised than I would think that story would merit, but then she sits down across from me and puts her hand on top of mine, which makes me look up at her in surprise.

“We’ll get your phone back, and I have something that might explain what you saw. I texted you that I had something to show you. Is it okay if I show you?” she asks gently.

“What is it?”

“It’s...Henry.” She turns her phone around so I can see the screen. “I sent this to myself when I found it—when Henry was still here—but I can explain why, and I can explain why I didn’t say anything about it until now. Just watch first.”

And then Henry’s beautiful face appears on her phone screen. On Cass’s phone screen, of all earthly things. I can’t make sense of it, but I have to watch. She pushes Play, and he’s talking to me. He sounds just like he did on the phone in that last conversation—desperate and scared. Tears spring to my eyes, and I touch my heart. My hand moves instinctively, as if to reach out to him, but of course he’s not really there.

“Oh, God,” I whisper upon seeing him start to speak.

“Trying to write this to you seemed so impersonal, and so I want to tell you in person, and I hope I can, but I have this feeling something might happen to me. And if it does, I need to make sure you know everything.” Henry’s voice spills out of the phone speakers, and my heart aches at the sound. I jab my shaking fingers at the screen, pausing the video.

This is the missing video the cops asked me about.

“Why do you have this?” I snap at Cass, with tears rolling down my face.

“Please, I’ll explain. Just watch the whole thing,” she says, and I do. I catch my breath and push Play again.

“I’m sorry for what I did. If you’re seeing this, you probably figured out that I had an affair with Lily. That I fell in love with her, and that sounds like such a shitty thing to say to your wife—the worst thing. And saying you and I were better friends and grew apart all these years is a cop-out, and I don’t want to belittle you. I did this thing, and I do love her, Anna, I’m sorry. But I love you, too. You’re my best friend, and I don’t expect forgiveness. I destroyed everything. But I decided to end it and to tell you and pray you understood. I think you’d have told me to stay with her and keep caring for her and that you were off to Ibiza, if I know you,” he says and smirks just a little bit.

I’m sobbing now, and Cass puts her arm around my shoulder. I keep watching.

“But what you need to understand is that Callum found out about the affair before we could end it and made my life miserable in every way he could. He enjoyed getting his revenge, and I did what he asked. Not out of fear he would tell you, because I planned to tell you, but he made me feel guilty for the stress I put Lily through—how it made her so much worse. So it’s my fault she’s dead, and I feel like I killed her,” he says. He’s crying now and has to stop for a minute and press his fingers into his eyes and breathe. Then he continues.

“Callum talked me into giving him my Oxy. I had some I never used for my knee surgery, and he must have noticed it in the bathroom, I guess. He said that they can’t afford the pain killers because she needed 60 mg of fentanyl every four hours for pain, and it was like fifty dollars a pill or something. Lily needed it around the clock, and it’s the least I could do, he said. I didn’t know he wanted a prescription that wasn’t traceable to him. I swear to God, I would never have thought that,” he cries, and Cass looks away and leans her forehead in her hand for the rest.

Henry looks closely into the camera. “Callum overdosed his wife. He wanted to be rid of the constant burden. The medical bills took all they had, and she was worth a lot more to him dead. There was insurance money he’d get. When she died so suddenly, I knew what happened. I put it together and confronted Callum, and he told me I’d better leave it alone because I was the one having the affair, and it was my name on the oxycodone bottle if I decide to push for a tox report, which they wouldn’t normally do since she’d been sick for so long. I’m ashamed I did let that scare me for a little bit, but now I’m going to the police. Today. I told him I was. I don’t care if they suspect me. I know I would never hurt her.”

He starts sobbing now and it’s so heartbreaking to watch, I don’t know if I can’t take anymore.

“I’m going right now to tell the police everything. I love you, and I hope that still means something to you. I’m so, so sorry. Anna. I’m so sorry,” The screen goes black, and I’m sobbing, too, so uncontrollably, I can’t even talk. I have to get myself over to the couch and hold my head between my knees and just let it all out until I’m almost gagging from the tears in my throat, my breath catching on my hiccuped cries.