Still With Me

“I don’t understand…”

“Neither do I. I don’t understand. You know that’s why I left. We’ll talk about it tonight. I’ll call before eight. Don’t forget their baths. And make sure they’re in bed by seven thirty at the latest.”

“Wait, I meant…”

“No. Tonight, Jeremy, tonight. Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”

Jeremy paced the living room, mulling over Victoria’s words, trying to find a clue. She was mad at him. Mad enough to leave him alone with the kids. They were probably arguing. He felt guilty. Victoria couldn’t have been in the wrong.

What did I do to her? What kind of man have I become? I don’t want to lose her. Not yet.

She had criticized his conduct with the kids. He wasn’t a good father. Or any better as a husband.

We’re probably just going through the normal cycles of married life.

Jeremy took a measure of comfort from this theory. It was a waypoint along the road of their relationship. They could get past it. Jeremy—the Jeremy who existed in that moment, the sentimental amnesiac—knew he was strong enough to stand the test. But the other Jeremy? He felt a mounting hatred for the double who was making a mess of his life. How could he risk losing everything? How could he hurt Victoria?

Jeremy dropped into the armchair. I’m going schizoid. I’m going to lose my head if I don’t stay the way I am—the one who loves her, who appreciates the gift of life and feels grateful.

He wanted to call Victoria back and apologize for everything he’d said and done. But what good would that do? He didn’t know anything about the events leading up to the situation. He thought it might be a good idea to call Pierre, talk to him, explain that he was having another episode.

Jeremy scrolled through his phone contacts and found Pierre.

A woman’s voice answered.

“Clotilde?”

“Yes? Who’s on the line?”

“Jeremy.”

“Jeremy? I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Could you pass me to Pierre?”

“Me, I’m doing fine, thank you,” she said with a sneer in her voice. “I’ll get him for you.”

She called to Pierre.

“Jeremy?” Pierre was on the line.

“Yes, I’m calling you—”

“About Victoria?” So Pierre was up to speed. “We talked on the phone last night. She told me about your fight, and she called me again this morning to tell me she was leaving for two days to visit her parents. Things aren’t so good right now.”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand.”

“Jeremy, don’t play dumb. You can’t tell me this came as a surprise.”

“Pierre, I really don’t understand anything…I’m having another bout of amnesia…”

“Not that, please,” Pierre shot back, exasperated.

Jeremy was taken aback. He’d expected compassion or at least surprise.

“Don’t take me for an idiot, Jeremy. If you have a modicum of respect for me, lay off the bullshit crises.”

“You don’t believe me?”