"hey"

"Hi"

"how are u these days?"

"I'm fine"

"well im not exactly doing well"

"Ok, maybe you should
see a doctor"

"i thought maybe we could talk.
u kno like old times?"

"What are we doing right
now then haha"

"no, i mean, have dinner w me.
we could go to our usual place"

"I can't, I have plans sorry"

"but u loved the lasagna!
and the grapefruit vodka?"

"Layla, I'm married. I have kids.
How many times do we have to
go through this?"

"but i still love u! and i
know u feel the same way"

"Stop texting me. Goodbye,
Layla"

"eric?"

The number you are trying to reach is
not available.

"eric!!"

"i love u..."

"till death do us apart."

*********

"Layla?"

"You there?"

"Please tell me you're safe"

"I saw the news earlier and
there was a car crash and the
car looked exactly like yours
so i was worried something
might have happened to you"

"Layla answer me!!"

"I'm coming over"

*********

"Hey. I know there's no use
texting you anymore but i just
thought–"

"I'm really sorry. I thought we
were past this. But when i saw
you in that coffin... so pale, and
you've got your whole life ahead
of you. I can't stop thinking that
i was the reason you took your
own life"

"When i passed the car crash
scene, you don't know how relieved
i was to find out that it wasn't you. I
tried calling you, but you wouldn't
pick up. So i drove over to your
house"

"The whole house was dark
except for your bedroom. I
didn't wanna disturb you but i
just had this urge to check up
on you. The door was locked,
of course, except that one thing
never changed, haha. Your spare
key was still under that ceramic
turtle we got in China"

"When i went up to your bedroom
and saw the blood, i knew
instantly that it was my fault. I'm
sorry for leaving you, Layla. I
thought we couldn't make it,
and i really thought i've stopped
loving you"

"Turns out i was wrong. So wrong.
Seeing your face, you were crying
before you left, forever. Knowing
that the pain you've felt was the
one that i've caused. Oh, Layla.
Why would you leave me? I love
you. You love me. We love each
other and you know that"

"So why did you leave?"

***********

The sound of a creaking door broke the dead silence of the room. And along with that, the tapping on the phone abruptly stopped. He turned around, only to see the two familiar figures and faces that he would see every other week.

He turned back, facing the small, rusty window, the last thing in his mind is seeing those two imbeciles again. He had had it.

"I just..." the first voice spoke, the very familiar one, the one that he still couldn't tell from where, but he had definitely heard it before.

It was interrupted by another, though.

"We've tried everything we can, Ms. Avery, this is the only way. We've talked about this," the second voice spoke, this one more irritating than the former. Even though he knew this voice pretty well, it didn't really give him the sense of home and belonging as much as the first one did. He hated this voice.

A huge sigh came from the former. It sounded heavy, reluctant. "I know." There it is again. The warmth of the voice, a familiarity creeping in and wrapping him whole.

Perhaps it was his conscience, or perhaps he just wanted to prove them wrong, but either way, he still felt like doing it. It might have taken a millennial worth of energy for him to do it though, or at least it felt that way. Slowly, he lifted and moved his arm in their direction, and in the palm of his unkempt hand, laid the cellphone.

The nurse whispered to the other woman, "I think he's giving it up. You should take it. He's more familiar with you."

"Thank you," his wife—or ex-wife? Nothing's really sure and concrete at this point—said quietly and took the phone from his hand, her hands soft, gentle. He let his arm stay in that position for a while, lingering in the still air before pulling it back in, hugging his legs.

He scoffed, louder than he'd admit. Yes, he gave it up, but was he happy?

"Goodbye Eric, you be good, okay?" She bid him farewell, and somehow they all knew it was probably gonna be her last one. Both her and the nurse left the room and him alone, clearly trying to close the door as quiet as possible, but the thud was still loud in his ears. So loud that it rang, and it hurt, but he didn't flinch. He couldn't. He had to be strong.

Papers rustling.

That was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep. It was the front page of a newspaper he had torn out and brought with him, before he was put in this filthy room of this even filthier asylum. He wasn't crazy, was he? He was just trying to do the right thing.

And on the front page, it had said, "Murder of Layla Mathers, 27: culprit identified as the successful businessman, Eric Bishop"

*********