The Downward Spiral of Adam Keir | Chapter 23

There would be no returning to his normal routine. It was futile to even try. Even so, on Friday morning, he decided that resigning to the futility wasn’t something he wanted to do. His life could go on regardless; maybe he’d hallucinate Evangeline again. But did he really want a world where she existed only to him in moments of stress?
            Well, he figured, it’s better than nothing, right?
            Larisa wasn’t in bed beside him when he woke up, but he couldn’t tell if that was because she was downstairs or at work. It didn’t seem likely to be the latter; she’d taken the week off, hadn’t she? He couldn’t be sure, though.
            Once out of bed, the first thing Adam did was pull on his jeans. Then he considered what he could do today that would feel “normal”. Technically he should go to the pawn shop. But he didn’t want to risk hurting Jesse again. He found himself too unpredictable to ensure that wouldn’t happen, so he thought of his other options.
            If his mind weren’t such a mess, working on a video might’ve been his best shot. But as things stood, he felt that anything he tried to make would be either insane or of low quality. So that left him with only one real option: going to the store.
            Has my life always been so monotonous? Shouldn’t there be other things for me to do other than work, work from home, and go grocery shopping?
            It’d never struck him how boring and repetitive his life was until then. If there was something else he could do, he couldn’t think of it. They could always use more groceries, though, he supposed.
            Whatever. It’s better than staying here to drive myself further down the rabbit hole.
            He knew it would be cold outside, like it had been yesterday, but this time decided he wanted to look warm. Not that it mattered; if Larisa was still here, he’d drive to the store. At least, assuming she’d let him. Either way, he went to the closet and began shuffling through the hangers, searching for his black zip-up sweater.
            Not in the front . . . Not in the back . . . Where the hell is it?
            Confused, he started looking through Larisa’s side of the closet. He doubted the sweater would be there, but it wasn’t in his side, so where else could it be?
            Must’ve misplaced it the last time I wore it.
            Near the back of Larisa’s side, he found a bunch of dresses she hadn’t worn in years: the dark red one she’d worn on their first date, the one she’d worn to prom 16 years ago, and the long white one she’d worn at their wedding, to name a few. He couldn’t help but wonder why she bothered to keep them when only some (if any) still fit her. Was it their sentimental value? The nostalgia in looking at them and remembering how they’d felt when she wore them?
            It wasn’t easy for him to understand, since he’d never kept any of the clothes he’d worn to such events. Most of the time, if he did wear a tuxedo, it was a rental. Even his mother had kept a bunch of old dresses, though, so he assumed it was something most women did. Whatever the case, his sweater wasn’t likely to be mixed in with the dresses; Larisa never touched them as far as he knew.
            He was about to turn away from the closet when something behind Larisa’s wedding gown caught his eye. It was a dark juniper green color; that alone made his heart skip a beat. For a long moment he stood frozen, staring at the knitted wool poking out from behind the white chiffon dress. And though nerves had him by the throat, he soon mustered the strength to push the dress out of the way. Hanging on a set of two skinny wire hangers at the very back of the closet was a scarf, the one worn by Evangeline. His mind went blank. Then came more questions.
            This scarf belonged to Evangeline. But now that she didn’t exist, it was in his wife’s closet. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was it supposed to tell him that she was in on the fabrication of Evangeline too? No, she couldn’t have been. Could she?
            With shaky hands, he pulled the scarf free from the hangers and held it in front of himself. It was the same scarf, all right. He wasn’t sure how, but he could tell. Would he find the rest of Evangeline’s clothes with Larisa’s if he kept digging? Rather than test it, he let his head turn itself to look back at his side of the closet. Sure enough, his eyes fell upon his elusive sweater, hidden behind an old shirt.
            He headed downstairs after getting dressed. The television was on in the living room, but when he got down to the first floor, Larisa came out of the dining room to intercept him.
            “Morning, honey,” she said. Then, after noticing the sweater and scarf, “You’re not going somewhere without telling me again, are you?”
            He managed a small, semi-amused scoff. “No. I was actually coming down to let you know where I’m heading.”
            “Well, that’s a surprise,” teased Larisa as she followed him into the kitchen. When Adam looked at the counter and stared at the foreign mug sitting next to hers, she realized why. “It’s your birthday present, from me. I take it you didn’t notice it before.”
            “Ah. Thanks.” He took the mug, then picked up the pot of coffee that was still brewing. Silence. Adam tilted the pot and began pouring the dark brown liquid into his mug. Still, silence. Suddenly, “Larisa, do you love Jesse?”
            At first, Larisa gave no response whatsoever. Then she whipped her head up to look at Adam, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “What?”
            “Jesse told me everything. Or at least enough. Do you love him?”
            The woman stammered, unable to come up with an answer.
            “Be honest,” he requested in a sad, gentle voice. “I won’t be mad, I promise.”
            This calmed Larisa, who looked down at her hands as she clasped them in front of herself. She leaned against the doorway and sighed. “I love the idea of him,” she admitted quietly.
            Adam looked at her after a beat. “Are you happy with him?”
            “I wouldn’t want to live with him,” was her answer, with a tilted head.
            He processed this as he looked back at his mug, now filled two-thirds of the way up with coffee. The pot returned to the coffee maker, then he reached for a teaspoon.
            “I want you to be happy, Larisa,” he said as he dipped the spoon into a bag of sugar.
            “I am.”
            “Being in love with two people is no way to live.” He started stirring his coffee, staring down into it as he did. “It’ll drive you insane.”
            “Adam.” Larisa stepped closer and grabbed his face, making him look at her. It reminded him of Evangeline and thus made him cringe, but that didn’t deter her. “I love you,” she declared. “You, not Jesse. I know I can’t make it up to you; the way I betrayed you is unforgivable. But I stopped seeing him. From now on, I’ll be nothing but faithful to you, because I realized that if I lost you”�"she cut herself off when her voice cracked. Mouth shut and lips quivering, she blinked back the tears that had started to form and gave her head a light shake. She took a deep breath to stabilize herself.
            “I’d rather die than lose you, Adam,” she concluded. “You’re my husband, and I’ve been such an idiot to ignore that.”
            Adam managed a tiny smile. He took one of her hands from his face and gazed at it before planting a delicate kiss on her knuckles.
            Oh, how I wish you were the real Larisa . . .
            Larisa smiled back at him, so he let go of her hand. When he returned to his coffee, she cleared her throat and said, “You never told me what happened yesterday. I can only guess that you went to the pawn shop, right?”
            He nodded.
            “Jesse told you about me and him.”
            He nodded again.
            “Anything else?”
            Adam shook his head. “No. Not much. Just a regular day at the pawn shop.” The less Larisa knew, the better. Her blissful ignorance to his growing madness made it easier for him to pretend he was still okay.
            The woman shrugged. After a beat she changed the subject. “Anyway, where’s that scarf from?”
            “I was about to ask you,” Adam responded. “I found it at the back of your side of the closet, after all.”
            “Did you?” She glanced down at the scarf, stared at it with scrutiny. “Oh! Wow, I almost didn’t recognize it.”
            “You know where it’s from?”
            “Yeah, of course. You gave it to me the first day we moved in together. Told me to hide it away somewhere safe, where you’d never see it. So I put it at the back of my half of the closet.”
            Adam picked up his teaspoon and headed for the sink, turned on the faucet. “Did I ever tell you why I had it to begin with?”
            “You said it was your sister’s, didn’t you?”
            His hand stopped mid-movement, holding the spoon in the air, extended toward the running water but not quite there yet. His mind ran circles around that answer. It belonged to his sister?
            But . . . I don’t have a sister.
            “And no offense to her, wherever she is,” continued Larisa with a chuckle, “but that is one god-awful scarf. I can see why she’d hand it off to her brother.” She paused. “Why don’t you ever talk about her? Not on good terms? Sibling rivalry?”
            Adam dropped the spoon, causing it to clatter in the sink; the cacophonic sound of metal hitting metal. “I’m going to the store,” he blurted. “Need anything?”
            “Okay, you still don’t want to talk about her, then. I don’t know. Should I go with you?”
            “No. Well, actually . . . No, forget it. I want to go alone.”
            “You’re sure?”
            “Yeah. I need to get back into my routine somehow.”
            “Sure, but you don’t have to jump straight into going places alone . . . I’ll go get dressed.” She turned to leave the kitchen.
            “Don’t,” he protested. “I’ll be fine, honest. You know me; I cope better on my own.”
            Larisa looked at him. She chewed at her lip. Then she sighed and said, “Fine. I guess we need some things. But don’t make me regret not going with you.”
            He flashed her a dorky but bittersweet grin and told her, “I won’t.”

* * *

As Adam drove to the store, he started to think that he could adapt. He could learn to live in this world, regardless of whether he’d ever find a way out. Sure, Evangeline didn’t exist, and now he had a sister he never spoke of and didn’t know. But Larisa loved him, she’d confessed to cheating, and he had the scarf to remind him of Evangeline. Things weren’t as trivial as he’d thought; he could keep himself in check�"keep himself sane.
            It was as he stopped the car in the store’s parking lot that he had a thought and reached into his coat’s pocket. Inside he found both the mystery key and the rosary that Jesse had given him. He took the latter and, taking inspiration from Jesse’s use, wrapped it around the base of the rearview mirror. The way the crucifix dangled reminded him of reality on its own, but for added effect he flicked it. As it swung back and forth like a wild pendulum, he found himself giving it a wistful smile.
            I’ll accept my fate. This is my life now. I’ll keep seeing Dr. Frost, and he’ll help me conform to this world’s norms. He’ll help me forget that this isn’t real.
            No, that’s wrong. This is real: it’s my reality now. I’ll make it my reality.
            As he stepped out of the car, he realized that it was snowing again. He looked up at the overcast sky and held out his hand. This time, when the snowflakes touched his palm, he was able to feel some semblance of cold.
            “This is my life now,” he repeated to himself, under his breath.
            He went inside and started shopping like normal. Not a glance was given to the produce section, though. He didn’t want to risk everything unravelling at the sight of a misplaced apple (or the lack thereof).
            Everything was fine . . . until he saw her. She was standing in the cereal aisle, looking at the brands with indecision written across her young face. Her platinum hair reflected the light above her as if it were from the sun. One of her hands was buried in the pocket of her black thigh-length coat. The moment he noticed her, Adam dropped his basket with complete disregard for whatever was inside. Then, he approached her. She looked up at him once she realized he was staring at her.
            Unsure of what else to say, he only said her name: “Eve.”
            The girl tilted her head like a confused puppy. “Um . . . Yes?”
            When he pulled her close, into a tight embrace, at first she did nothing, as if stunned by the sudden intimacy. He could feel her body heat�"the warmth of her breath on his chest�"and it was better than the cold of winter could’ve ever been.
            “I thought you were gone,” he whimpered. “Do you have any idea how much that messed me up?”
            “What?” She felt tense in his embrace and didn’t reciprocate it, but her voice remained more or less composed.
            “I knew it couldn’t be true. I knew you weren’t gone. Of all the places for you to not exist, not here; not in my world.” He held her tighter. “Please don’t leave me again. I love you, I’ll admit it. As crazy as it is, I love you too.”
            Evangeline started fighting to get away, which surprised him. “Let go,” she said. “Let me go!”
            “Eve, shh, it’s me. It’s all right.”
            “Get away, you creep!”
            “You said you’d pretend not to recognize me,” he pointed out. “But you don’t have to. Eve, I love you. I made a mistake. Please forgive me.”
            But she wouldn’t let up. “Help! Someone, help me!” When she began fighting harder he let her go, but as she turned to flee he caught her arm and she shrieked. People were beginning to look down the aisle in morbid curiosity, but no one stepped in.
            “Stop it,” he scolded, “you’re making a scene!”
            “I don’t know this man! Get him away from me!”
            “You do know me! You love me! Eve, stop pretending; it’s not funny anymore!”
            It took the manager and a few customers to pry Evangeline away from him. Once she was free, she took off running for the nearest exit. As they reprimanded him in the aisle, he watched as she hesitated and looked back at him. That one glance was all he needed to remind him that it was only an act. She’d wait for him before leaving the parking lot, he knew it.
            A few minutes later, the manager told him he’d have to leave. He agreed, much to the manager’s simultaneous relief and confusion. Wondering if he should’ve made a fuss, he allowed the man to escort him out. In the parking lot he made a beeline for his own car. Then he waited.  It took a minute for the manager to return inside.
            Adam waited. Like a robot, he waited, sitting upright with his hands on the wheel and the ignition on. He was ready to drive. But he waited.
            A car left the other side of the parking lot. A car that he recognized.
            Evangeline’s car.
            I knew she’d wait.
            He was careful to tail her from a distance. As he drove he found it hard to believe that a few minutes ago he’d thought he could live without her. The moment he saw her in the store he’d realized it was only a ruse, told to keep himself sane. He didn’t care anymore if he was crazy. The fact of the matter was that he needed her now; he couldn’t live without her. This was what she’d wanted.
            So he followed her, until she drove her car into a small parking garage. He waited outside, on the other side of the street from its entrance. A few minutes passed before he realized she wasn’t going to come back out. He brought his attention to the building connected to it; a multi-storey building. Even from the outside he could tell it was some sort of apartment complex.
            If that’s the case, he thought, I’d need a key to get in through any entrance.
            He didn’t have that, and she wasn’t going to make it easy for him by letting him in herself. Maybe there was someone at the front desk. Was it that kind of apartment complex? He couldn’t tell, but he somehow felt certain that it was, as if he’d been inside before.
            Don’t tell me I lived here after staying in Motel 6 all those years ago. It was possible, but unlikely; unlike Motel 6, he had no recollection of this building at all.
            Even if there was someone at the front desk, what could he say to them to find out which apartment belonged to Eve?
            “Hi, I’m here to see a friend, but I don’t know which apartment she’s in”? If she wanted to see me, why wouldn’t she give me the number? They’d think I’m a stalker for sure!
            He was desperate, but hoping for a miracle seemed pointless. Try as he may, he couldn’t think of a way to find her. There was a feeling in his head, like something in him was screaming, that made him start screaming too. From what emotion, he couldn’t tell, but as he screamed he struck the steering wheel twice, honking the horn by accident.
            It was the second blare of the horn that made him jolt straight up in his seat. All of a sudden, his mind was clear. He could think again. The first thing he thought, he said to himself under his breath: “Flowers.”