not some frigging Greek tragedy. You’re taking something that happened to me, and making it about you. You ain’t the center of the universe. Get help, Em.”
I hung up then. “Damn it!” I said to the wall.
“What’s wrong?”
Brian was leaning in the kitchen doorway, dressed for work. I told him what happened and how Bucky had left things. “She’ll be okay,” I concluded, more to reassure myself, I suppose. “She said there wasn’t even all that much real damage, but there’ll be a hell of a mess to clean up.”
Brian didn’t say anything. I looked over at him. “Yes?”
“And she’s right. This may have nothing to do with you. You may be looking for a connection where there isn’t any.”
I hated how carefully he kept his face neutral, kept his voice so reasonable, almost to the point of condescension. “I hate how everyone thinks I’m going off the deep end. It’s not like I’m making up any of this stuff. It’s actually happening. And yet, somehow, you and Bucky both seem to be forgetting that I am one of the most eminently reasonable people in your acquaintance.”
“If we accept that you’re an overwhelmingly reasonable person,” he said, in that hateful, measured, cautious voice, “maybe you can remember that we’re not stupid people either.”
“I never said you were stupid.”
“Great. So look at it from our perspective. You’ve been suffering a lot lately. Last semester took a toll on you and, frankly, things have been very stressful for you for a long time. You’re starting to strain at relationships where there is no strain, almost like you want there to be something wrong. What would this look like to you, if you were in my shoes?”
“I’d think something was up. I’d be trying to find out what is going on.”
“There’s something going on, yes, but I just don’t believe it’s Tony. There’s no proof of that. I want to find out what’s happening, but I won’t go looking for the bogeyman when there’s a better answer.”
One of our two cats, Minnie, sauntered through the other doorway from the dining room, and she perked up when she saw me, her tail went up as she hastily padded over. I scooped her up, and kissed her velvety head. “At least the cat still loves me,” I muttered into her fur.
“I still love you,” Brian said, but he left the room.
I followed him out, still hugging Minnie, who was batting at my ear. “Do you ever stop to wonder whether your adamant determination that this isn’t Tony isn’t pure denial? That you say it can’t be, that it isn’t, because you don’t want it to be?”
He stopped. “Sure. Do you ever consider why it is that you seem to need it to be Tony?”
“Need it to be? Don’t make me laugh.”
“I ain’t laughing, Em. You know, it’s kind of creepy, like some weird kind of infatuation. Obsession, even. Occam’s razor—”
“Don’t give me that. You can’t give me philosophy and science without applying them to your own arguments. Of all the people who might have a grudge against me, Tony has the most reason. And if it isn’t him, then someone is going to a lot of trouble to make it look like it’s him, and has a lot of knowledge about him and me. A copycat? That seems more unlikely than it being Tony himself.”
Brian’s jaw tightened. “The fingerprints weren’t his. The handwriting wasn’t his.”
“But it was close. I’m not claiming to understand it all, but he’s in this. You know he is.”
Brian wouldn’t look at me, kept staring at the boxes in the dining room. “He’s dead, Em,” he repeated woodenly.
“Again, when we apply logic, we don’t have good proof of that. We never found a body. There was another way for him to have escaped. He had funds. He’s got the wits to survive and pull something like this off. None of this stuff is the work of a pissed-off freshman, and everyone else who might have a stronger reason is either in jail or dead.”
Brian shrugged. “Look, I’m going to call the bank and credit card companies, make sure that someone isn’t ripping us off that way. Then I’m heading to work, okay?” He kissed me, left, and I was forced to confront my own thoughts in the solitude of my office.
Whatever I did, Tony, or someone, seemed to take it into consideration, even as I flailed about ineffectually.
I’d been retreating too long; I needed to press an attack. And while it