Page 62 of The Tenant
“I miss your cookies.”
“Thank you.”
“I missyou, Krista.”
She looks away, her cheeks turning pink. “Blake…”
“Please give me another chance.” I attempt to reach for her hand, but she steps out of my grasp. “Nothing happened between me and Whitney. I swear on my life.”
“I believe that it didn’t,” she sighs, “but even so, you’re obsessed with that woman in an extremely unhealthy way. She’s all you talk about, Blake!”
“That’s not true.”
“It absolutely is true! You act like she is evil incarnate, but she’s just an ordinary person. Aniceperson.”
I clench my teeth. “Whitney is a lot of things, but she isnotnice. In fact…”
In fact, I think there’s a chance Whitney killed Mr. Zimmerly.
I think something terrible may have happened in our living room.
I think Whitney might be trying to frame me for murder.
As I say all those words in my head, I recognize how wild it all sounds. Whitney framing me for murder? That sounds ridiculous. I can’t say that out loud. If Krista thinks I’m obsessed with Whitney, telling her what I really think will make things worse. Even though it’s all true.
“I’m worried about you, Blake.” She scrunches her eyebrows together. “I’m worried that you…that you’re losing your grip on reality. It’s scaring me. You’re so paranoid, and you won’t listen to anything I say.”
Okay, I definitely can’t tell her I think Whitney killed Mr. Zimmerly.
“I’m fine, Krista,” I insist. “I swear I am. The only reason I’m not fine is because you moved out.”
“I needed to do that.” She frowns. “I’m sorry, but you’re out of control. I couldn’t deal with it all anymore.”
“Deal with what?” I shoot back.
“Blake…”
“I’m serious! What are you talking about?”
I hadn’t even realized I had raised my voice until Becky materializes behind me, her arms folded across her chest. She clears her throat loudly.
“I think it’s time you get going, Blake,” she says.
I look between the two of them. Becky is glaring at me, and Krista just looks sad. This isn’t fair. I didn’t do anything wrong. I never cheated on Krista, and I’m not imagining that something is going on with Whitney. Krista might not believe me, but I know that woman has it out for me. She has been targeting me practically from the moment she moved in.
I appeal to Krista: “Can we please just talk a little bit longer?”
“No.” Becky’s voice is firm.
I don’t understand why she gets to be the gatekeeper.
“Time to go. Also…” Becky looks me up and down. “Your shirt is backward.”
I look down, and sure enough, the tag is showing on the front of my shirt. Damn. I must’ve flipped it around when I turned it inside out. How hard is it to put on a damn shirt?
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll go.”
I look over at the tray of cooling snickerdoodles on the counter. Will I ever get to eat any of Krista’s baked goods again?
