Page 108 of Falling Like Stars

“Goodbye, Eva.”

“Fuck you, Zachary,” she says, rushing to me, grabbing at my arm. “Give me the phone.”

I turn and she lunges, but I’m ready. I grab her wrists and hold her back—like a writhing cat—as she screams.

“Give me that phone!”

I shove her back, hard enough that she hits the ground.

“You want to talk about abuse?” she cries. “What was that?”

“That’s self-defense,” I say. “And this is the last time I ever want to see your face. It’s over, do you hear me? It’s fucking over.”

I reach for the door again, grab the handle, and there’s an explosion of glass and water against it at head level.

“Jesus, Eva…”

I turn just in time to see the blur of something a split second before pain blasts my cheekbone, beneath my right eye. A jar of sauce tumbles down and shatters on the floor. I stagger back, raising my arm just in time—another bottle of mineral water strikes my elbow, then hits the floor with a clunk.

“Give me that phone, you fucking coward.” Eva is sobbing now, clutching the edge of the counter. But she’s out of weapons; she hurls the head of lettuce, and it explodes harmlessly at my feet.

“Well?” she shrieks. “Don’t just stand there! Fight back!”

“I’m not fighting you, Eva,” I say in a low, controlled tone. “I never wanted to fight you.”

For a moment, there’re only the sounds of her cries. Blood trickles down my throbbing cheek. Then a hard knock comes at the door.

“Police. Open up.”

Eva’s head shoots up and she pushes tendrils of hair off her face. “Oh no. No, don’t…”

I open the door and sag against the wall as two uniformed cops—hands resting on their pistols—step inside.

“Watch your step,” I mutter, indicating the puddles of water and sauce, glittering with broken glass.

“Got a noise complaint about a woman screaming,” one officer says. “You all right, ma’am?”

The other officer is eyeing me. “Hold up, what happened to your face?” He turns to Eva. “Did you do this?”

“He’s trying to blackmail me,” she cries. “He’s got a recording… And he pushed me. He shoved me to the ground.”

The first officer steps over the mess. He turns to me. “What happened here?”

“I was trying to leave,” I say. “She didn’t like it.”

“Fuck you, Zach! You goddamn liar!”

“Now, let’s all calm down. Ma’am, did you do that to him?”

Eva stares at me helplessly, her jaw working. The right side of my face is screaming, and blood stains the front of my shirt. Years of her rage and the sudden, shocking flurries of violence that broke us are all at the forefront of my mind, running alongside every time I tried to put it all back together. Because I once loved her. I can’t remember the feeling, but I know I did. Like a shadow of an echo of a memory. And so it still hurts, what’s coming next.

“All right, ma’am, I’m going to need you to come with me.” The second officer crosses to her, pulling handcuffs from his belt.

“What? No!”

She’s pleading with me. Begging.

I’m sorry, Eva.

---