“Listen,” I demanded, desperate to know that she was hearing me, “I know what I did was wrong, but let me explain.” I would have taken any emotion from her, any sort of acknowledgement that she’d heard me, but she gave nothing. Why hasn’t she said anything?
“I was a fool. I know that. I’m so sorry. It’s just that, well, I was drunk. I know that’s no excuse, and I can’t change it, but I can tell you why it happened.” I exhaled loudly, as if the expulsion of breath would push the rest of my words out.
“I was on my fourth Jack and Coke when she came over, and at first I brushed her off. I tried to behave. I really did. I brushed her off. She just kept comin’ back, and you know I can’t handle Jack. Jack made me think she was you. Really, he told me that you’d come to save me, and I was so happy to see you that I took you home, and we… well, you know. But I really thought it was you.” I sighed again, as if that’d help. Even as I said the words out loud, I knew I was bullshitting – I wasn’t that drunk, and really, who the hell would believe that lame excuse?
I shook my head as if to clear the air and start again. Why hasn’t she said anything?
I look at the phone.
The call disconnected five minutes ago. She never called back.