“Come on,” he prompted. “Give me an answer…and think about it.”
“Well, I suppose I’d be more terrified of coming across Hannibal.”
“Thank you!”
“It’s only because he’s so damn charming and intelligent. You’d probably invite him to your house for tea and ask him for advice… It would never even cross your mind that he was a murderer, let alone a cannibal.”
“Finally, something we can agree on.”
I laughed and breathed an intense internal sigh of relief. It was just like old times, almost. This was exactly how it used to be in the beginning, before we had been a couple and when we had just started to get to know one another. Phil’s initial tone, which had started off slightly weary, had turned happy and upbeat and over the course of our conversation, we both relaxed.
Neither one of us mentioned anything about the trial, Brent, or our relationship. In fact, we didn’t talk about ourselves at all. I didn’t ask him about work, and he didn’t ask me about mine. We just spoke about movies and actors and timeless classics that we needed to watch again. I barely felt the time pass by, I was just so thrilled to be talking to Phil. I was even more thrilled that he was giving me this much.
I had half expected him to ignore my call or make some polite excuse after a few minutes. But he did neither, and before I knew it, we had been on the phone for almost two hours.
“Megan?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “My shift starts in an hour, and I have to get ready.”
“Oh, right… Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry about keeping you…”
“You didn’t,” he said. “I had fun talking to you.”
I felt a little trickle of hope, and happy tears rushed to my eyes. “I had fun talking to you, as well,” I said.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I replied back.
A second later, the line went dead, and I sat in the park for a few minutes longer, wondering if this was a brave new beginning or simply the beginning of the end.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Phil
“You seem to be in a good mood today,” Mel observed, as we sat down together at our usual table in the day room.
We had just come in from our second call in a handful of hours, and I was exhausted, but in a satisfied, accomplished sort of way. It was the best kind of exhaustion to have. It made you feel worthwhile and useful. Kendrick and Ryan were still in the shower, so it was just Mel and I at the table with a handful of sandwiches between us.
“Do I?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, we did get a thirteen-year-old girl out of a car just now,” I said.
“You were in a good mood before that,” Mel said, with a sly smile. “Does this possibly have anything to do with Megan?”
“No,” I said a little too quickly.
Mel smirked, having obviously not believed me. I sighed. “We talked yesterday,” I admitted. “Not about us or anything personal…just things in general. And it was nice.”
I recalled our conversation from the night before. It had lasted almost two hours, and I had hung up feeling invigorated and happy. It had reminded me of our conversations at the beginning of our tenuous relationship before we were a couple and were just establishing the parameters of our friendship. It was nice to just turn your brain off and talk about unimportant topics, without worrying about the future.
Even as I’d hung up with her, I’d wanted to call her back and talk a little bit longer. But I knew I couldn’t keep doing that if I decided that I really couldn’t forgive her. The truth was that I had refused to think about it since our meeting at the park. My head was so messed up and confused that I had decided to give myself time to calm down first before I invested in any real introspection.
However, when Megan had called last night, I had been filled with relief. I was scared somehow that she might move on and not tell me. But the fact that she had called proved that she was thinking about me, too.