Page 60 of Insidious

“I was barely holding it together,” I say. “You don’t know what it was like inside my head … You don’t know …”

He closes his eyes briefly.

“I used them,” Isaac admits. “Her messages to fill the gaps. It was like white noise. Because I was scared of … you. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Or make it worse.”

That’s honest, at least, but way too late.

“I’m sorry.” He sobs. “I’m so sorry, Luna. I love you. I love you so much. I love our daughter. I cannot carry on without you. Whatever it takes, I will do it.”

I cannot move. I don’t think he would let me anyway. It feels like my heart is rupturing from within.

“I don’t know why I did it. Why I said what I said. I just—” He swallows hard and pulls my stiff body close. “I can’t take it back.”

No, you can’t.

“You know why Chloe and I split up,” he rushes on. “But Mum … she didn’t. And I didn’t want her to feel like she had lost a daughter. So, when she kept pushing me to help her when she moved back here six months ago, I just relented. Chloe told her the same story. That she’s being treated for depression and—” Isaac exhales sharply, like he’s losing control of the thread. “But after Amelie came, I was struggling, Luna. With everything at home. You didn’t want me near you. You wouldn’t let me touch you, wouldn’t let me help you.”

All true. But the solution is still not texting your ex and telling her you still dream of her.

“I understand now,” he says quickly. “I do. But I didn’t then. It felt like my best friend was gone. Like you were replaced by someone I didn’t recognise.”

My chest feels too tight, like I can’t breathe.

I stare at the blanket.

He keeps going.

“So, when Chloe asked me to come out, some old school friends were in town. Mum was here with you, and … I went. I asked you if it was alright.”

A flicker of anger stirs.

“I remember you texting,” I say.

“Yeah.” A hollow laugh. “You didn’t reply at first, and then you messaged ‘fine’. And I was … angry, I guess. Feeling sorry for myself, like a complete twat.”

Couldn’t agree more.

“So, I went. And it felt … good just to be with friends. It reminded me of before. Me, Chloe, Jack, Rowan. No pressure.”

His grip loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go.

“There was nothing romantic in her messages,” he says firmly. “I’m not interested in her like that. It just … felt easy. And after that, she kept messaging, reminding me of how things used to be when we were small. It was an escape.” He swallows. “I slipped. I had this stupid dream about all of us, and I—”

His voice peters out, and he sees me glaring like I want to kill him.

“It wasn’t a dream like that, I swear. It was just a strange version of a class trip. Nothing more. I wanted to take it back immediately. It sounded like I meant something else. I d-didn’t,” he stammers.

He is getting nothing from me but artic freeze, the dumbarse. Then—

“How did you see it?”

I close my eyes briefly. That memory comes anyway. The one before I …

“Your WhatsApp was open on your laptop.”

That’s all I can say. I am not going to explain why I was reading his messages.

Isaac looks like I’ve hit him.