Every now and then though, I’ll feel that darkness press down on me from above, that oily black wave that wants to drown me. There comes a point where even the alcohol can’t keep that feeling away. I’m starting to think maybe the booze is making it worse, that it’s inviting my inner demons out to play.
Dex has seemed preoccupied all night too, and I can’t blame him. Sometimes he’s on his phone, distracted, or he’s staring off into space. I figure he’s just drunk or maybe he’s feeling that darkness too.
When Rebecca gets up to have a smoke, Dex goes with her outside, leaving his phone on the table. Dean is sitting across from me with Seb, laughing with him about something. I think he’s stoned too.
I’m stabbing the ice cubes in my vodka soda when Dex’s phone lights up beside me. Curiously, I glance over.
It’s a text from Daniel.
…my dad?
I pick up the phone and peer at the text before it disappears.
I saw her again. In the bedroom. Same message as before.
I frown, looking up at Dean and Seb, but they aren’t paying me any attention.
I enter in Dex’s passcode, refusing to feel guilty about it. It’s rare that I use his phone unless mine dies, and I’ve never had any sort of reason to read texts or emails or anything like that.
But I’m already feeling so fragile, so close to cracking, that seeing a message from my father is setting me off.
I go to the messages and start scrolling through the ones from my father to Dex, going all the way back to around Halloween.
I saw Ingrid again. This time on my walk. She didn’t say anything.
Today Ada saw her, but I didn’t. Ada said she didn’t say anything, just stared at her.
Ingrid appeared in my dreams last night, telling me the same. Don’t let her. I tried to yell at her but I woke up.
She was in the kitchen when I was getting my morning coffee. I almost dropped the pot. Don’t let her. That’s all she said.
Ingrid paid me a visit twice today. The first time was actually nice, it felt like she was alive again. The second time she was begging me, don’t let her. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m going insane.
I can’t even breathe. My heart is pounding so hard I think it might just give out right here at the table. What is this? My mother appearing in front of my father? Of all people? Don’t let her? What does that mean? Why is he telling Dex this? Why hasn’t Dex told me? He’s only responded to him a few times, are they talking on the phone?
And still I scroll in horror, hands shaking.
I haven’t slept in days. I’m not sure how long I can keep this from her.
What am I not understanding? Has Perry said anything? Has she seen her too? Have you?
Don’t let her don’t let her DON’T LET HER.
I drop the phone on the table with a clatter, my hands flying to my mouth.
Seb and Dean look up at me.
“Perry?” Dean asks in concern.
I stare at him with wide eyes, trying to blink, to breathe. I shake my head. “I…I gotta go. I gotta go home.”
“What happened?” he asks, while Seb reaches over and takes Dex’s phone, looking at it.
I abruptly get up, grab my coat and throw it on, then grab my purse.
I can barely stand, not just because I’m drunk, but because I’m vibrating with so much fucking rage that I can’t even see straight, like I’ve been plugged into a motherfucking volcano.
How could Dex do this to me?
How could he be having all these conversations with my father and not tell me?
My mother! My fucking mother has been haunting my father with a message? Don’t let her? What does that even mean?
Is it about me?
Of course it’s about me.
And my husband has kept this to himself all this time.
I storm my way through the bar, bumping into the ends of tables, spilling drinks, jostling hips, until I’m bursting through the front doors and into the frigid air.
Dex and Rebecca are outside smoking so I hurry in my heels in the other direction, taking out my phone, hoping to get an Uber. I just want to get in a car and go back home before I explode.
But Dex spots me, yells my name, and then I hear him running after me.
I walk fast, my eyes filling with tears, hot, venomous hate rising up inside me, like I have a pit of vipers in my stomach. I’m trying the app but it can’t seem to find me a ride and my hand is shaking so much that I can barely see the screen.
I head off the sidewalk and down a dark path through a tiny park, just a sliver of trees between buildings, when Dex grabs my arm, pulling me back.
“Perry!” he yells. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”
I stare at him in the dim glow of the nearest streetlight, my whole body trembling, the anger rising out so hot and fast that I’m desperately afraid that I’m going to do something I’ll regret.
“You,” I manage to eke out, pointing my phone at him. “You are a liar. You are a fucking liar. A fucking hypocrite!”
I can only make out his eyes clearly in this darkness, confusion contorting them.
“What are you talking about?” he says, his grip tightening.
I rip my arm out of his hand. “I saw your phone! I saw what you’ve been hiding from me! About my father! About my mother!” I scream that last part, not caring if anyone hears. We seem to be alone in the park so far, not that people yelling in downtown Seattle parks gets anyone’s attention. “I know it all!”
Dex’s expression collapses. Now he knows.
He displays his palms, as if that’s going to calm me down.
“Let me explain,” he says in a low voice.
“Let you explain!” I yell. “Explain what!? What?!”
He reaches for me again and I lash out like a snake, smacking his arm away with my purse. “Don’t touch me!” I snap at him.
He backs off an inch, panic running through him. “Your father told me not to tell you,” he says. “I thought I was doing what was best.”
“Tell me what, Dex?”
He takes in a deep breath through his nose, looking to the side. “He’s been seeing your mother. A lot.”
“I fucking gathered that. Why was I not supposed to know?”
He rubs his lips together, eyes now on the ground, the space between us. Then closes his eyes. “He thought…he wanted me to keep an eye on you. He said…your mother keeps saying don’t let her. He doesn’t know what it means. I don’t either. It might not even be you, it might be Ada, and—”
“Fuck you,” I sneer.
His eyes open in shock. “What?”
I can’t stop it. All this anger in me is uncontrollable, like it’s taken over me, like I was so easy to discard. I’m nothing but fire and hate and loathing and I want to take everyone around down with me.
“Fuck. You,” I say, jabbing my finger into his chest. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that? Of course you do. You knew exactly what you were doing when you decided not to tell me. Don’t let her? Don’t let me what? Go into the fucking house? Have a fucking baby? Which is it? Which fucking part is it? All this time I’ve been fucking haunted by that bitch and you’ve sat back and you’ve kept this from me. You could have told me and I would have played it safe. I wouldn’t have done anything. But you didn’t. No, you didn’t! And now look where I am!!”