Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

shoulder. ‘Maybe—’
I could feel her girl-brain buzzing, turning Amy’s disappearance into a
frothy, scandalous romance, ignoring any reality that didn’t suit the narrative.
‘She didn’t run off. It’s much more serious than that.’ I put a finger under
her chin so she looked at me. ‘Andie? I need you to take this very seriously,
okay?’
‘Of course I’m taking it seriously. But I need to be able to talk to you
more often. To see you. I’m freaking out, Nick.’
‘We just need to sit tight for now.’ I gripped both her shoulders so she had
to look at me. ‘My wife is missing, Andie.’
‘But you don’t even—’
I knew what she was about to say – you don’t even love her – but she was
smart enough to stop.
She put her arms around me. ‘Look, I don’t want to fight. I know you care
about Amy, and I know you must be really worried. I am too. I know you are
under … I can’t imagine the pressure. So I’m fine keeping an even lower
profile than I did before, if that’s possible. But remember, this affects me, too.
I need to hear from you. Once a day. Just call when you can, even if it’s only
for a few seconds, so I can hear your voice. Once a day, Nick. Every single
day. I’ll go crazy otherwise. I’ll go crazy.’
She smiled at me, whispered, ‘Now kiss me.’
I kissed her very softly.
‘I love you,’ she said, and I kissed her neck and mumbled my reply. We
sat in silence, the TV flickering.
I let my eyes close. Now kiss me, who had said that?
I lurched awake just after five a.m. Go was up, I could hear her down the hall,
running water in the bathroom. I shook Andie – It’s five a.m., it’s five a.m. –
and with promises of love and phone calls, I hustled her toward the door like
a shameful one-nighter.
‘Remember, call every day,’ Andie whispered.
I heard the bathroom door open.
‘Every day,’ I said, and ducked behind the door as I opened it and Andie
left.