The Watcher

10

All these phone calls. The ones that took place before she knew.

He called to say that he needed to finish something at work and would be home late. Or to share the details of yet another business trip that he needed to go on.

But most of all, of course, she was the one who called. She called to find out how his day was going, to ask if he wanted to meet spontaneously for lunch or quite simply to get his opinion on some practical question.

All the times he didn’t have time to talk, was in a bind, when it wasn’t a good time. All the times he didn’t pick up at all.

Sometimes she caught him on his way somewhere. She could make out the sounds of traffic and city life in the background and imagined him having just left his office. She could picture him walking down the sidewalk, his phone pressed to his ear. “Where are you going?” she usually asked. Did he ever answer that?

All the phone calls in the years they’d been married: “See you later. Don’t forget to buy milk. Bye, love ya.” One of those conversations became the last.

The last call before everything fell apart.

The last call before the beast within her awoke.