Page 190 of Josephine and Clay

My stomach tightens instantly.

Penny watches my face carefully. “Bad?”

“I don’t know yet.”

I tap play.

Clay's voice fills the apartment through the speaker, rough around the edges.

“Uh… hey, Josie.”

Every muscle in my body locks up. Clay sounds exhausted, worn thin in a way I’ve never heard before, and Penny's expression changes almost immediately. I should stop the message before this gets worse. Instead, I sit there and keep listening.

“I thought coming back out here would fix something…”

The motel noise filters faintly behind him. Music somewhere outside. Men shouting. A truck engine revving.

Then his voice again.

“I don’t fit here the way I used to.”

My throat tightens painfully.

“You always saw through me…”

I close my eyes briefly.

The emptiness in his words catches me off guard.

“I miss you.”

Beside me, Penny slowly mouths ‘oh no’.

Clay keeps talking, tripping over his own words as he tries to pull the confession back, but the damage is already done. Then there's a second voicemail, only a few seconds long, mostly ragged breathing and a flustered, "Wait, hold on..." before it cuts off. By the time the second message ends, my chest feels tight enough to crack open.

Penny stares at me. “Well.”

I swallow hard. “That didn’t sound good.”

“That man sounds one whiskey away from adopting a raccoon and calling it therapy.”

I huff out a startled laugh before emotion rushes right back in. Because underneath the humor, I recognize every part of it. The isolation and exhaustion. The edge in his words when he stops pretending he's fine… and I know exactly how badly mixing painkillers with alcohol can go.

I call him before I can talk myself out of it.

The phone rings.

Straight to voicemail.

“Clay,” I say quickly when the tone sounds. “Call me back.”

I hang up immediately and try again.

No answer.

I try again.

Still nothing.