The Little Black Book

Finn was gone. No one ever believed our marriage would last very long. I doubt anyone could have ever imagined it ending this way though. I sat on the edge of my side of the bed, facing the door. I couldn’t even bear the thought of turning around. I felt his hand on my shoulder and reached quickly to grab it.

Nothing. There was nothing there. Finn was gone.

Nothing but emptiness. The room felt emptier by the minute and all that was left lingering were these random bursts of "phantom pain". I could feel his fingers touching my skin, his lips grazing the back of my neck. But there was no one there. Finn was gone.

For a moment I could feel his breath in my ear. I heard him whisper: “I’m right here, babe.” A chill shot through my spine. I felt my cheeks getting warmer and my eyes started to swell up with tears. No! Not now!

I hadn’t cried at all since it happened. This is also the first time I’ve been alone since it happened. The silence of this room was consuming me. I felt weak. The kind of weak I would only allow Finn to see in my darkest moments. And, even during those times, he would always find a way to make me laugh.

Would I ever laugh again after what he did? How could he just leave me like this? I wanted to scream. I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

The knob on the door started turning. My heart was racing. He’s back. This was all a dream. A horrifying nightmare. My hands were shaking. “I forgive you,” I thought. “Just come back.”

“Hey, can I come in?” It was Gabe.

I exhaled and looked down at my hands - still shaking. “Yup.”

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

I looked up. “Finn is really gone.” I shook my head as the tears started to flood my face.

“I know he is. I’m so sorry.” I could hear the trembling in his voice now.

Gabe was Finn’s younger brother. He is actually the one that introduced us. He is also probably the first person (of many) to have warned me to stay away from Finn. “That comes with a load of baggage you don’t need in your life right now” were his exact words. But, from the moment our palms touched, I was caught in his trap. That electrifying handshake changed my life forever.

“I know this may not be the best time, but Finn wanted you to have this.” Gabe stood in front of me with a little black book in his hands. “I don’t really get it,” he continued. “But he insisted I give it to you if, you know, something would ever happen.”

“What?” I stared at him confused. “What is it?”

“It’s his little black book. You know, with like ex-girlfriends, girls he’s f…”

“Yeah. OK, Gabe. I know what a little black book is.” I could hear myself getting angry. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No, no. I don’t really know.” Gabe pleaded.

“What the hell did Finn have a little black book for?” I yelled. Finn was slightly older than me, but not old enough to have needed to keep his "contacts" in a book. “Why do you have this, Gabe?”

“Please, don’t get mad. It’s not what you think.” He handed me the book.

I grabbed it from his hand. Probably a little more aggressively than poor Gabe deserved.

“Looks like a bunch of women’s names to me, Gabe.” I said sarcastically.

“I know,” he replied. “Look, he gave me this book when you two started dating. He told me to make sure you have it if anything, you know...”

“I don’t understand.” My tone finally softened slightly.

“I don’t either, but about a month ago Finn texted me and asked me if I still had the book. I told him I did and he said to give it to you when…”

“Wait! You knew?” I interrupted him.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“That he was going to do this? That he was going to leave me? Us? Everyone? You knew?” I cried.

Gabe looked down at his feet. “I did.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me? What is wrong with the men in this family?”

“Look, it was what Finn wanted. I didn’t know how or when, but I knew about the cancer. And I knew he didn’t want to go that way. He didn’t want you to see him that way.”

The cancer. Honestly, when I heard the word cancer a few days ago, I felt relieved for a moment. I insisted on an autopsy although the cause of death was clearly a suicide. I just didn’t want to believe Finn would leave me like this. No goodbye, no letter left for me. I wasn’t even allowed to see his body. He supposedly left some note saying to call his brother, that he did not want his wife to remember him that way. Insisted on a closed casket as well, of course. There was a long list of requests for a dead man. He wanted wine and cocktails at the wake, hoping everyone would celebrate his life and not mourn the death. I’m sure there are plenty of overly intoxicated mourners in my living room downstairs. I haven’t had a drop of anything all day.

He knew I would hate this. I didn’t even believe he was dead. A part of me still doesn’t. This is all some big prank that Finn planned out to get back at me for the clown fiasco I pulled last year. Very funny, Finn.

I squeezed that little book tightly in my hands. The leather was soft and slightly damp. I opened it up again. The pages all seemed to have writing on them, but they felt new, untouched almost.

Finn’s handwriting was impeccable. He would always leave little notes around the house. He would stick post-its on leftovers he loved: 'Can’t wait to eat you tomorrow night' or 'Oops, forgot to throw out the trash' on the trash can. “It took you more time to write that note than it would to throw out the trash,” I would complain. But he didn’t care. Finn thought it was fun to annoy me and argue about the little things. He said we would be more grateful for all the great things in our life if we fought sometimes.

I looked up again. “Why did he do this, Gabe? I hate him. I hate him so much.”

He sat next to me. “Because he loved you too much.”

Was that true? Was this all to make it easier for me? Or was he a selfish, controlling bastard who couldn’t even let his death go unplanned?

I just nodded. This wasn’t the day to start a debate about anything.

“I’m going back downstairs. Do you want to stay here?” Gabe asked.

I nodded.

Gabe got up and started walking towards the door. He stopped and turned back.

“I almost forgot,” he said while pulling a crumpled up piece of paper out of his pocket. “This is for you too. I’ll see you in a bit, OK?”

Gabe handed me the paper and left.

I stared at this little ball in my hand. I set the little black book aside and started to slowly open up the piece of paper. And there they were. Finn’s last words to me. I ran my fingers across the note.

I know you love a mystery, babe.

Clue #1: Always bet on black.

Always bet on black? He gave me that same "advice" on our third date when we somehow ended up at a casino themed party. It was my first and last time playing roulette. I put a $100 chip down and, of course, lost. He said… Wait, what did he say? Something about a black book.

He said, “I guess you’ll have to cross off my name in your little black book before you go bankrupt.”

I laughed and said, “Black book? Do those even exist anymore? Oh my God! You have one? Am I in it? Page 357?”

“Ha ha, very funny. Let’s just say, even if I did, I don’t think I’ll ever need it again.” He smiled and looked into my eyes.

I remember feeling completely disarmed by that smile. He leaned over to kiss me. I moved back.

“Can I burn it?” I asked daringly.

“Burn it? Why would you want to do that? You might need it one day.” He flashed another devilish smile, gave me a quick kiss and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I remember feeling confused with that response. But that was thirteen years ago, I hadn’t thought about it at all since. Did he plan this - whatever this is that night? I can already see him scheming up some sick prank. One that he could sit on for years. One that he wouldn’t even be around for to see come to life. That was sick, even for Finn.

I reached for the notebook. 357? That was definitely the number I said. I always used 357 when expressing a large number of things, like: 'Why are there 357 post-its in my fridge?'

I already knew it didn’t have 357 pages, but I counted all the same. 93, 94, 95, 96. 96 pages. I ran through it again.

357.

3 + 5 + 7.

15.

I counted up to the fifteenth page. Sarah M. That’s me. Well, it would be Sarah L. now, after I married Finn. My cellphone number next to my name. The only name on that page. Written with a black sharpie it seemed.

Was this book his actual little black book? And why would a name starting with an S be on the fifteenth page? I skimmed through the book again. None of the names were in alphabetical order. That wasn’t like Finn. He was all fun and games, but the man loved being organized.

Some of the names were written in blue, some black, only mine with a black sharpie.

Always bet on black. Always bet on black.

I opened my nightstand drawer and grabbed my notepad. I would always have very vivid nightmares and Finn asked me to write them down so I could “tell him all about them in the morning”, as if I came back from an exotic vacation.

The last thing I wrote on the notepad was:

Mom there. Skeleton - weird animal. Blood on palm trees. Can’t run. Tripped on fish.

I flip the page and start writing down every name in black from the little black book.

Carla C.

Helen R.

Rachel D.

Ivy C.

Sarah M.

Tiff. Tiff? Just Tiff? I wish I could punch him in the face for making me do this.

Isabelle B.

Amy K.

Nera S.

Laurel G.

I know you love a mystery, babe. His voice is ringing in my ears.

I circle all of the first letters of the names.

Carla C.

Helen R.

Rachel D.

Ivy C.

Sarah M.

Tiff.

Isabelle B.

Amy K.

Nera S.

Laurel G.

Christianl. What? Christian L. maybe? I don’t even know a Christian.

I frantically turn the pages of the book.

Christian L. Call me.

I grab my phone and start typing in the numbers. 917-32… A contact pops up. A book emoji. Not a black book, but more like those black and white composition books we used to write in. I press the call button. It rings twice and goes to a voicemail.

“Hey babe.”

It’s him.

“From the moment I met you I knew I’d,” he pauses. “Well, at least sleep with you.”

He laughs. I laugh.

“I never thought I could love someone so much until I met you.”

I’m crying.

“Thirteen years later, I still feel the same way. Now, do me a favor and go to my closet. Open this old red shoebox on the top shelf and do something crazy. And remember, always bet on black.” he pauses again. “I love you, Sarah.”

Beep.

My heart is racing. I run to Finn’s closet and hit call again.

“Hey babe…”

I have to really stretch my arm out to reach the box. It has that little circle you can put your finger through. With the tip of my finger I pull it off the shelf and catch it mid-air.

“I love you, Sarah.”

Call again.

“Hey babe…”

I sit on the floor with the box in front of me. I open the lid slowly. Cash. I stare at it confused.

“I love you, Sarah.” My heart skips.

Call.

“Hey babe...”

There’s a little post-it note on the bottom of the lid:

$20,000 - Don’t count it, trust me. Do it.

“Always bet on black.” I mumble to myself. He’s insane. Even in death, he’s insane.

“I love you, Sarah.”

“I love you too, Finn.” I say out loud, as if he’s standing right there.

I scoop up the box and my phone. I take a quick look in the mirror.

"I look like I stepped out of a horror movie," I think. But I can’t let that distract me. I feel this adrenaline rushing through me. The way I felt when I first met Finn.

I run through the door and stop at the top of the staircase. The guests. The mourners. The family. I can’t deal with them right now, I need to get out of here.

Recent calls. Book emoji, book emoji, book emoji, book emoji, Mom, Gabe. Call.

“Hey!” I blurt out. “You need to help me get out of here. I’m at the top of the stairs. Yes, I see you. Perfect.”

I rush down the stairs and I feel the room go quiet. Finn’s uncle Tom starts walking towards me.

Gabe sweeps in between us.

“Not now, uncle Tom. Sarah just needs some air.” Gabe says.

I nod.

We walk to the kitchen and out through the back door.

“Do you have your car keys on you?” I ask urgently.

“Sarah, are you OK?” He seems concerned.

“Yes, yes, I promise. I just need to go somewhere. I need to do something for Finn. Come with me!” I say excitingly.

“What? Sarah, we can’t leave.” Gabe pleads.

“Yes, we can!” I say firmly. “He was my husband. He was your brother. And he would have wanted this. Trust me. We need to find a casino or something.”

“A casino? Sarah, you’re losing it.”

I flip the lid of the box over.

Gabe reads out loud, “$20,000 - Don’t count it, trust me. Do it.” He recognizes the handwriting, he knows this is Finn’s doing.

I nod excitingly. “Always bet on black.”

Gabe smiles at me and reaches into his pocket. I can hear the keys jingling in his hand. “Let’s do this.”