Him and Only Him

2

2021

A call was the first thing I hear in the morning. On the morning I was supposed to sleep in. I patted the empty side next to me, still not used to Adam being gone. I shook my head, pissed at myself for thinking about him first thing in the morning. The annoying ringing shattered my ears was I tried to find my phone in the covers. Quickly, I found it, grabbing it and madly swiping at the unknown number.

"Hello?" I asked, slightly hoping it was Adam. On the other side of the phone, I heard an exciting, familiar voice. "Hello?" I repeated.

"Liz!" The familiar voice said, now I knew it was a man.

"Who... who is this?" I asked, yawning.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you, pillow princess?" I flinched at the pet's name and cringed, tilting my head.

"Who is this?"

"Freddy! Mills." The name rang in my head.

It was Freddy. The man I interviewed a couple years ago.

"Freddy? How did you get my number?" I asked, worried. That wasn't the only thing that shocked me.

"I asked around. I assumed you still lived here, New York. Your friend Adele gave it to me." He said, his voice even and calm, just like I remembered it. Adele. I haven't thought about her in a long time. We haven't talked or seen each other ever since she got fired. Or, the way she puts it, ever since she walked out. I cleared my throat.

"Are you... out of prison?" I asked, moving my blanket out of the way so I could stand up.

He sounded exited. "Yeah! They found out that the so-called murder was an accident. She didn't get killed by a person, since they found the body in a burning house. She, committed suicide." His voice still made me flinch, the way he said some words, and the way that he was calling me, right at that moment.

"That's good. I mean, I'm sorry for the time you spent in prison." I spoke, and he laughed on the other end. Walking downstairs, I waited for him to talk. He took a long sigh.

"Yeah, it wasn't that awful after you came to interview me." I could hear his smile on his side of the call, and that formed an unsettling smile on my face. It was weird, how much I impacted his life by talking to him about an accused murder.

"That's," I took a pause. Was it scary to hear that? Uncomfortable? Kind of nice?

"That's nice." I finished. A loud siren passed his side of the call, and I pulled the phone away from my ear.

"I'm sorry," He sounded like he was. "It's loud over here. You are, still in New York, right?" he asked, a slight uncomfortable amount of hope in his voice. I nodded, before remembering he couldn't see me.

"Yes, I am. Are you?" I asked, not really wanting a reply. "Well, I called you as soon as I got a phone, because I just got out a week ago. So yeah, I am." Freddy said, and I hesitated, waiting for him to say something.

"Can I see you?" He asked, catching me off guard. I stuck in a breath. It was super unprofessional to see a felon three years after interviewing them. At least to me it was. And I barely knew Freddy. I only knew his criminal history, and barely anything about him. He was twenty-six now. And a part of me was scared, knowing well that this man somehow found my friend from three years ago, tracked her down, because she didn't even work with me anymore, and asked her for my number.

"You can say no." He sounded cold, and I sighed. The worst that could happen was him killing me, and I doubted that would happen.

"Sure. Why not."