Her

39

PHOENIX

"Hello," she says.

I stare at her. Finally I say, "Hello."

A very long moment of silence.

"Do you want to come in?" I say, neither rude nor friendly. My voice sounds emotionless, like the one of a robot. That's also how I feel, emotionless, like a robot.

She lightly nods. I open the door a bit wider and she steps inside. We end up in the living room. I ask her if she'd like something to drink, not because I'm trying to be nice, but because I don't know what to say. It feels like I'm taking the role of a robot once again. She says yes. I tell her to take a seat. I get to the kitchen, take out some things, put them on the counter. I stare at her from behind the counter, sitting on the couch. I notice she's holding something. Or rather someone.

"You had the baby," I say, my monotonous voice interrupting the silence.

She looks at me. "Yes," she says.

"Is it... Did it go all right?"

"Yes," she says again. "He's very healthy."

"Good."

I just stare at her. At her and her baby.

"What are you doing here, Mrs Torrens?"

"You remember my name?"

"Don't you remember mine?"

We're silent. We both know she does. She has remembered my name, just like I have remembered hers. Diana Torrens. I have remembered everything about her. Her name, her face, and everything she told me. You don't forget the person who your twin brother died for.

"I wanted to come here about a week ago," she says. "But I put it off, told myself not to go. And then, I put it off again. And again. I don't think you'd want to see me. But I had to see you."

"That's not answering my question."

We both look at each other, just look, nothing else.

"I don't know what I am doing here, to be honest," she says.

"Then why are you here? Why have you decided to come here, with your baby, into our house?" My voice isn't loud, or angry, or shaking. It's just hollow. "There's nothing that I can do for you, Mrs Torrens," I say. "There's nothing that I -" - want to do for you, I want to say. But I don't say it. Xander wouldn't want me to say it. So I don't say it. I take a breath, close my eyes.

"If you want to, I'll leave."

I open my eyes. I hear myself saying no.

There's a silence, so loud that anyone could hear it. I want to make it stop, but I don't know how. I want to scream at her, at myself, at everyone. I want to scream at her to get the hell out of our house. I want to scream at her that I hate her for breaking my family apart, so that she could build her own. I want to scream at her that I'll never forgive her, that I'll never forgive Xander. That he died too soon, and that it's her fault. That I wish she would have been hit by the car. That I wish I would have been hit by the car. That I would do anything to have Xander be here, and that it's her damn fault that he's not. That I miss my brother, and that I think about him, every single day. But I know she does too.

"I don't know what to say," she says.

"That makes two of us."