The Sniper's Wife by Archer Mayor

’Nam. I hope this doesn’t sound wrong, but she really loved you. She brought that up so much, I kinda got sick of it. That might’ve had something to do with why her and me didn’t work out. She was still stuck on what happened between you.”
    Willy regretted having broached the subject, and tried to get back on track. “Why did you break up, though? You said that was only part of it.”
    Andy put on a philosophical look. “Part of it, all of it. Hard to tell, when you think back. I mean, I’m no shrink, and she had a lot of issues, probably before you ever met her, so who knows where all that crap comes from? And I wasn’t in such a great place, either—a super bad choice for her, looking back. But you know how she was: all that energy… hard to resist. And I don’t resist too well anyhow.”
    He toyed with his coffee cup a little before adding, “I always felt weird about that, you know? Her being your ex. I hope that never pissed you off too much.”
    Here, at least, Willy could be perfectly honest. “Never did. I thought you’d be a good match.”
    Andy smiled ruefully. “So did I. We might have been, if she’d gotten you out of her system. And even with that, the first two or three years were great, after she finally moved in with me.” Suddenly he laughed with embarrassment. “That’s pretty good, huh? Turns out I was more ticked off at you than you were at me, and I was the one living with her. Boy.”
    After a moment’s stilted silence, Willy asked, “How’d she get hooked?”
    Andy looked pained. “Know what I said about my being a bad choice for her? That was no lie. I didn’t see it coming…I guess that’s nothing new. What with the divorce and living with me and her mom rejecting her, I should’ve known better. But I was too busy doin’ deals and living hard. By then, I’d taken her for granted, too. She was just sort of there all the time.”
    He was having trouble forming his words. He passed a hand across his face as if to clear it of cobwebs. Willy thought the beer might be having both a liberating and a fogging effect by now.
    Finally, Andy sat up straight and admitted, “Look, you got good reason to punch me out for this, but I guess I got her into that shit. I was doing a little myself then—pills and some heroin, and the booze like always. I hate to admit it, but that’s what got her started. She didn’t want to be left out more than she already was, and since I was doin’ it anyhow, I didn’t see any harm. I know it sounds bad—I mean, it is bad—but we were clueless. It was fun, felt good, the money was startin’ to roll in. By the time I woke up, she was pretty far gone. Heroin’s a hard habit to break.”
    He didn’t add anything for a while, concentrating on the empty coffee cup as if it contained nitroglycerin.
    Willy prodded him in a quiet voice. “What happened, finally?”
    Andy didn’t meet his eyes. “Well, we did break up, of course. Her talking about you, me bitching that she was either zoned all the time or out trying to score. It got pretty ugly, and I didn’t have the patience for it. I never been too good with that, either.”
    “You threw her out,” Willy suggested, paying him back a little for the you-broke-her-heart refrain.
    Andy looked at him then, an almost pleading expression on his face. “No. I mean, she did move out and we did have one last big fight. But I was too screwed up to be that decisive. It just sort of fell apart. I guess, though,” he added after a pause, “that I didn’t stop her, either. And I didn’t go after her.”
    “How long ago was this?”
    Andy rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Years. A few years. Shit, I don’t remember.”
    “You ever keep up with her?”
    He shook his head. “Nah. Damn, this sure doesn’t look good, does it?”
    Willy pursed his lips, thinking, it’s not about you, but said instead, “When she was out trying to score, do you know who she dealt with?”
    Andy was obviously