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Confrontation

"What the FUCK, Callum?" I screech at him. He's still in the cemetery, but the tangy metallic smell that surrounds him tells me he's eaten. What, or who, I really could care less.

"Jesus Fuck, Eden. What's wrong with you?"

I throw the bottle of pills at him. It bounces off his hard chest and rolls a few feet away. "You drugged me?" My perfect vision reddens. If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him now. I knew  I should have the second I caught him with Amelia. Her, too, for good measure.

He bends to pick up the bottle. "I-I've never seen these before."

He's lying. He has to be. But the confusion on his face makes me falter. I don't let him see it, though. "Callum, they're prescribed. To. You." I glare at him in the night.

"I can read, Eden." His tone matches mine.

"So explain. Why did you kill me? How can you live with yourself?"

"Eden, I didn't kill you. And I've never been prescribed sleeping pills. When have you ever known me to have trouble sleeping?"

He's right. The guy is -was- borderline narcoleptic. I can't recall a time we'd made it through a movie without him nodding off at some point. But that doesn't mean he didn't tell Dr. Whoever he was suffering from insomnia and then overdose me. I start to tell him this, but his mind has already went to the same place.

"And before you start, no I didn't get these just to kill you. I didn't kill you. I could never. Goddammit, Eden, I loved you."

The past tense stings. Was I still holding out hope that maybe he still cared? I shake the thought off and sigh. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't you. Then who did it?"

Callum runs a hand through his dark hair. "I don't know."

Shocker. "Well let's start with what we do know. I'm dead. You're dead. Who killed you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Well, what do you remember?" I can hear the bite in my tone, and I soften my voice. "I'm sorry. I've spent the past two months trying to figure out how I died, and this is the first clue I've stumbled across."

Callum gives me the half-smile that made me fall so hard for him. "It's fine. For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too." His eyes cloud over. "I was the one who...found you. I did CPR until the ambulance came. It was...too late. There was nothing I could have done. The EMTs said you were gone before I even started." His voice broke. The sound pulled at my undead heartstrings.

"Where was I?" My voice comes out as a whisper.

"Our bedroom." His voice falters again. "I'm so sorry Eden. I tried. I really did." He closes the gap between us and envelops me in his arms, still strong after death. I sob tearlessly into his chest. After a few seconds, he releases me and tilts my head up. "Chin up, Barrow. You've got me now. I'm here."

I'm torn between whether that makes things better, or worse.