“I don’t. I know you won’t believe me, but I really don’t. It’s something else that I can’t tell you about it. The closest I can say is that I’ve had girlfriends in the past and things went wrong, and I swore I wouldn’t become romantically involved again. But this feels right, but only if it’s here, just here, in this building.”
She hooked her bra and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I guess it’s convenient.” She laughed, but Corbin thought it seemed a little forced.
The arrangement actually worked for a while. Most of the time Corbin would go to Audrey’s apartment. He’d bring wine, and they’d watch a movie on television, or they’d cook together. There were so many elements of Audrey that attracted him. She was matter-of-fact, not duplicitous at all, always telling him how she felt. In the bedroom she was responsive but not overly eager. She never said dirty things, and she preferred the lights off, like he did. Periodically, however, she would bring up the arrangement. Sometimes as a joke: “So which one of us is going to walk down to the 7-Eleven for ice cream, since we can’t walk together?” Sometimes not: “My sister is coming to visit, and it’s ridiculous that I can’t introduce you to her. You realize that?”
Corbin always responded the same way. He said that it was unconditional that they never be seen in public together, and that it had everything to do with him and nothing to do with her. But every time he was forced to say those words to Audrey, his anger and resentment at Henry grew. Henry had made Corbin a murderer, and as though that weren’t enough, he was now out to destroy Corbin’s life, to destroy any possibility of happiness. Because why? Because they were no longer friends?
In his spare time, Corbin hunted for Henry Wood across the Internet, even contacting some fellow classmates from the semester in London to see if any of them knew what had happened to Henry. One of them said he’d run into him in New York City, but that was two years ago. The thought of finding Henry, and making him pay for what he’d done, consumed Corbin, especially now that he was with Audrey. If Henry were dead, then he could be with her without the constant fear of being seen together. And that was what it was: a constant fear. As much as he wanted to be with Audrey, he wondered all the time if he would come home some day to find out she’d been killed, that Henry, the invisible monster, had found out about them and made Audrey pay for it with her life. It was nonstop paranoia.
The worst moment came when Corbin was having drinks with the only other young resident of the building, a guy named Alan Cherney with whom he’d played racquetball a few times. Alan point-blank asked him if he was seeing Audrey—he’d heard rumors, he said, although he didn’t say where he’d heard those rumors from. Corbin had played it cool, but the conversation kept replaying in his head over the next twenty-four hours. If Alan knew they were seeing each other, then other people could know. And if other people knew, then Henry, wherever he might be, might know, and he would come for Audrey the way he had come for Rachael Chess.
Even though they didn’t have plans, Corbin barged in on Audrey the following night and accused her of letting someone in the building know about their relationship.
Audrey’s eyes went large in disbelief. “Jesus, Corbin,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s not funny. I was out having a drink with a guy from across the way and he asked me about the two of us. He knew.”
“So what?”
Corbin made himself wait two seconds while he unclenched his jaw. “I know that you don’t care because I haven’t told you my reasons, but you do know how important it is to me that no one knows we’re together. Don’t pretend it’s no big deal.”
“No, trust me. I know it’s a big deal. What do you want me to say? I haven’t told anyone. We don’t go out in public together, so I have no idea how he knows about us.”
“Well, he knew.”
“Who is he? Do I know him?”
“Alan something. He lives on the other side of the building.”
Audrey looked out her window. “He lives across from me. I’ve seen into his apartment. He’s