The screech of the telephone jolts me back. I'm gasping again, ripped out of the hypnotic calm into which I had lulled myself.
It rings three or four times before I realize I am supposed to answer it. It's my responsibility now that Carter's gone.
“Hello?” I answer.
“It's me,” Carter says.
“Hi.”
“Sorry, I was a little delayed catching up this morning. Is everything, okay? How are you doing?”
“I'm fine. I promise. Just as you left me,” I assure him. “How's your day?”
“Good. Like I said, it's hard to be here knowing you're alone,”
“Like I said, don't worry about me. Okay?”
“Okay. I'll call you in an hour, this time I'll be on schedule.”
“Alright.”
I hang up the phone, now determined to go right out that door, so I can be back in an hour for Carter's next call. I march towards it, my body pushing through doubt as if it were a physical force field. This time, I grip the knob and turn it purposefully.
The phone rings again.
I huff this time, annoyed by Carter's hovering just as I found some hidden courage. I trudge back to the phone and pull it off the receiver.
“Hellooo,” I say in a melodic voice, disguising my annoyance.
There's no response.
“Carter?” I ask.
Breathing. That's all I hear on the other line.
“Carter, is that you?” I ask, convinced there's a bad connection.
The breathing continues, it's so light that I can only hear it because of the dead silence of the home.
My lips tremble as I force out what I can.
“S—Sam?” I ask.
There's a click. But I keep the phone to my face, waiting for something. Anything. Until the phone goes off the hook, blaring that aggressive tone into my ear. I barely slide the phone back on the hook, and plod to the bathroom. I turn the screechy knob until the shower is loud enough to drown out every little sound that scares me, and then I sit on the toilet lid and wait for Carter to return.
“I'm taking you out to dinner,” Carter proclaims as he undresses from his work clothes.
“Oh…I…uh…”
“It's been six days. I don't want to push you, but let's try, huh? The press have given up outside. They think you're somewhere else.”
I think back to how close I was the other day to stepping out on my own. How that mysterious call was like a perfectly timed reminder of the life I had just left behind. It was him. It had to be. All day and night I wonder what he meant. Was it a way to tell me he still thinks of me? Was he taunting me?
Every time the phone rings, I jump. I wait nervously for Carter to answer it, afraid if I take the initiative, I'll give away the secret. But so far, nothing has been out of the ordinary. And I haven't entertained the thought of leaving, thinking he'll call when I'm gone, and I'll miss some sort of chance at closure.
“We'll go somewhere quiet and fast,” Carter insists.
He strips down to his briefs. It strikes me how it's the first time he's disrobed in front of me since I have come back. I remember what I found attractive about his body: how long he is, how the lines from his abs travel down to his hips like a long-winding road.
“Your mom will be back in a couple of days. I know that's a lot to deal with and I just think it'll be good to remember what it was like to let loose a little.”
I mull it over for a few seconds. “Alright.”
“Great!” he says, losing himself and plopping a kiss on my forehead. I don't mean to, but I stiffen. He pretends not to notice, but I know he does.
“I'm going to take a quick shower,” he announces, walking away with his underwear still on. He gently closes the door behind him and I let out a big sigh, collapsing back onto the bed.
The phone rings.
My breath stops for a moment. I want to run, I want to race to the phone, but Carter could come out to answer himself and I don't want to have to explain my sudden enthusiasm.
It rings again, Carter doesn't open the door, so he must already be in the shower. I walk over in between the third and fourth ring.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I ask, my throat stuffing with emotion.
“If it's you, please say something.”
A sigh.
“How could you leave me like that? Why did you?” I hiss. “Answer me, please? I know you can say something. After everything, at least give me that.”
Nothing. Not even the courtesy of an answer.
“You dropped me off like some discarded pet and then intrude into my life? What is it that you want? If you meant to let me go, then let me go.” I don't mean it, but I know it's the right thing to say.
Silence.
“Damn you,” I growl, just before there's a click on the other line and he's vanished from my world again.
I hang up the phone, wiping my tears with the sleeve of my shirt. I check the bedroom mirror to make sure it's not obvious. Carter will want to know what happened and I don't want to deal with it.