Page 104 of Serial Killer Games

I cut her off before she can say it. “How would that be good for her?”

I’m asking how it would be good for Cat because I can’t ask how it would be good for Dodi. She wouldn’t put up with that. But their life isn’t some Jenga tower I can smoothly slip out of. I was counting on a year, maybe, but what if I turned selfishand decided to milk as much time as I could? What if I really deteriorated, and changed, Cat watching from her place on the rug as I slowly faded away, Dodi watching Cat watching me, and regretting this choice she made to see me through to the end. I know I’m capable of it. I’ve already been so selfish. I should have carried on as I had been, loner temp gray-rocking through the world.

I can hear her lick her lips. “Maybe when she’s older, she’ll remember a relationship where two people looked after each other. I don’t know how else she’s going to get an example of a healthy relationship. Jake, I—”

“We’d have to pretend to have a healthy relationship?”

Dodi doesn’t laugh. I didn’t expect her to. I don’t feel like laughing either.

“I think I’ve only said this out loud to a few people in my life, but I—”

“The thing is…” I say, cutting her off again. She hesitates, waiting for me to finish. “I’ve got everything figured out on my own,” I lie. “I don’t need your help after all.”

She inhales deeply, like she’s about to plunge into cold water. “Jake, I lo—”

It’s going to feel so much worse if she says it out loud. “I think we should get an annulment.”

I imagine a hairline crack added to all the rest, but a tiny one, with no sharp edges sticking out. Neatly and mercifully done.

She doesn’t speak again, but she doesn’t leave, either. She knows why I’m doing this. She has the mug. We both lie there, fingers threaded, so still and quiet, I don’t know which one of us falls asleep first.

47

The Skeletons

Jake

It’s the deathly quiet ofearly morning after Christmas. I spot an Uber through the front door’s side windows, idling outside.

She emerges from the dark hallway, her steps slowing for a moment, just a moment, as she notices me come down the stairs into the dim foyer. Maybe she thought she could sneak off before I caught her.

“I was just saying good-bye to Bill and Laura,” she explains.

“Were you going to say good-bye to me?”

“No.”

“Will you now?”

“No.”

She stares at me, and I look at her. Lips the color of holly berries, her hair spilling around her shoulders, rumpled and unbrushed. I don’t want to say good-bye to her either, and we don’t have to. This won’t be the last time we see each other. We’ll cross paths, randomly, when we least expect it. We’ll connect eyes across a parking lot. We’ll find ourselves walkingtoward each other on a downtown sidewalk. She’ll shank me with a sarcastic smile and say,Still stalking me?and I’ll say,Until the sweet grip of death takes me, and she’ll say,Something to look forward to, then, and we’ll stand there for a few seconds, our eyes saying something completely different. She’ll keep spotting me, until one day the sightings stop. I wonder how long she’ll hold out for another.

Cat appears from behind her, Princess lumbering along at the end of a flimsy leash, snorting and puffing enthusiastically.

“Shoes, Cat.”

Cat scrabbles with her Mary Janes and Dodi slips on her boots. She passes the little red peacoat to Cat, who takes it.

“Shoes, Jake,” Cat says around the collar of her coat in the same bossy tone as her mother.

“I still have some cleaning up to do,” I say.

Dodi and I exchange one last look. The Uber honks. The door opens, and all the warmth of the house swirls out into the cold morning with them.

The house is dead and empty now. A floorboard creaks, and I turn to see Laura.

“Did you two quarrel?” she asks sympathetically. “I won’t pry. You’ll work it out. It’s obvious you two love each other very much.” She fiddles with her snowman necklace for a minute. “Or…youcouldgo after her. I’ll hold down the fort…”

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