Chapter Two
At least until nearly a month after the confrontation at her place. One evening, I came in from work and found the following message on my answering machine:
“Alejandra...”
“Please stop calling.”
“I know you mean well, but...”
“You’re hurting me.”
“Please stop.”
“Please.”
I don’t have the words to describe how haunted and haunting her voice was. I barely recognized it.
I played that recording over and over that night, crying so hard and so long that the world became a blur.
But, eventually, the message penetrated even my thick skull.
I resolved to do as she asked.
I would leave her alone.
What choice did I have?
I don’t want to suggest that I had taken Colleen for granted, but when someone has always been there for you, it’s easy to feel, unconsciously at least, t
