He's got it coming: Love is the best revenge

by Alexandra Winter

  I can’t help but smile. “Seems like that’s it.”

  “What a rush that must have been, though. Seeing her?”

  “My pulse was beating like crazy. She could have ruined everything. I needed that time to really convince him.”

  “What about Miss Oil?” Cecilia mimics Thea’s movement of smearing oil over her body.

  “We’re using his nicknames now?”

  Cecilia shrugs. “Makes it easier not to think of them as people, to distance myself.”

  I search for Thea’s name and see that he’s ended that as well. I double-check to see if he still plans to spend nights with his ex, Helle, but he’s told her he’s met someone too. “I’m the only woman left,” I say.

  “Just as planned.” Cecilia goes over to the wall of Henrik’s texts, images, and porn preferences.

  “I met his family too.” I swirl my chair around, contemplating how strong Henrik’s feelings are for me. He might think he loves me, but he’s nowhere near my feelings for Isac. “It’s not enough.”

  “But you met his family.” Cecilia turns to me. In her hands are all the Post-its where we’ve listed our goals.

  “He’s said he loves me, but never told anyone he wants to marry me. That was our last goal, the symbol of his love.” He’ll never kill himself if I dump him now. “He needs to propose.”

  Cecilia’s eyebrows furrow. “A proposal was not part of our plan.” She unfolds a piece of paper from her pocket. “I found this article about Henrik’s mother.”

  I read out loud. “’Mother falls from ferry.’ Judit? There’s no name.”

  “Look at the date.” Cecilia points to the wall where a picture of Henrik’s mother hangs, along with her drug history. “She arrived in Siebe the same day, and the police never recovered a body in the water.”

  Outside, a mixture of rain and snow falls, and the moon peeks in through the office window.

  “I visited her grave. Henrik’s father is covering up the fact that she’s alive, hiding behind this fake accident. The rest of the family is clueless.” I tape the article to the wall next to Judit’s information.

  “I’ve dated this asshole for six months, and I can’t take it anymore. I want him blown open, exposed, and vulnerable.”

  Easy to shatter.

  Cecilia takes Judit’s photo from the wall, studying her face. “She looks like you, you know. Same high cheekbones and cute nose.” She turns it around to show me.

  “So I’ve been told.” I take the picture from her and tape it back on the wall. “He killed my husband. He deserves as much heartbreak as he can get.”

  She looks at me with narrowed suspicious eyes, as if I have something on my face she can’t figure out. “Henrik got under your skin. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, come on. This is not a silly romantic comedy. The only thing I like about Henrik is that I get to destroy him.” The sensation of me climaxing with him between my legs might be the only thing I’ll miss. “And the sex.”

  “I don’t believe you. That’s why you’re getting angry at me for asking you to stop. Which you should. End it now before it’s too late. You don’t want to end up like Katelyn.”

  Katelyn?

  “Are you kidding?” I laugh. “No chance that’ll happen. A proposal, then I’ll reveal our scheme.”

  “You want your revenge on him, I get that, but you’re taking it too far. You never know what he’s planning behind the scenes,” Cecilia says as if forgetting I have insight into everything he does.

  “Yes, I do. I see it all.” I walk over to the window, watching the sidewalk turn into a skating rink.

  Cecilia follows just in time to see a man with grocery bags fall, and a woman helps him up. “Are you sure about that?”

  I open the window and collect an ice drop in my palm, letting it roll back and forth. “I watch him daily. If you don’t want to be a part of this anymore, I don’t mind. You gave him to me to ruin, and that’s what I plan to do.”

  “We never planned a proposal.” Cecilia plucks the ice from my hand and squashes it between her fingers. “You should stop seeing him. You’re changing, and…you’re scaring me a bit. He was good for you, you seem happier, but you’re tipping over.”

  I walk back to my desk. Why is she protecting him? “I’m in control.”

  “He loves you, and we don’t actually know that he caused the accident. He took a picture. End it. Tell the truth and forgive him.”

  Are you kidding me?!

  “He killed my husband! He didn’t call an ambulance, he just…he did nothing to save him. Nothing!” I’m seething. “You’ve lost your mind. If this is some trick you’re playing as a part of your support group, I’m done.”

  “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Bullshit. You needed a hobby, something to occupy your time. Isn’t that why you keep popping up here?”

  Cecilia shakes her head. “Date someone else. Let Henrik go. The police did their investigation and didn’t charge him. That should be evidence enough for you to…”

  I sneer. “The police? Funny! They didn’t even find the photo. I discovered more than the fucking police in only a few days, so don’t you dare tell me to trust them.”

  “You need to let new love into your life,” Cecilia says, throwing me off.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t think for a moment I didn’t see how mesmerized you were by the Nerlis. You want someone to love and grow old with.”

  I lean back in my chair, glaring at her. “I had that!”

  She stands. “You can have it again.”

  “I don’t want it again.”

  “Everybody needs love. I suspect you’re enjoying the power of controlling him beyond what any sane person would do. Is that why you can’t let Henrik go?”

  Who are you to insinuate that I’m not sane?

  Simen texts Henrik just then, and it catches my attention.

  At least she’s not psycho like Cecilia.

  I point to the text. “See? I’m not the only one reacting to your behavior.”

  Simen goes on texting.

  Katelyn’s still my favorite though.

  Fuck Simen.

  Cecilia throws her arms out in frustration. “Why don’t you let me help you? Get you in touch with a therapist.”

  “I already have a recommendation for a shrink, thanks.”

  Who I’m never contacting.

  “You’re smarter than this, and if you think about it, you know why I come here,” Cecilia says.

  I know you’re lonely and apparently desperate for my friendship.

  She walks downstairs, grabs her coat, and calls up to me. “Water the plant. Just like you, it needs love too.”

  “Oh, come on! It’s a stupid plant. What are you talking about? I’m smarter than what?”

  “Good night.” Cecilia closes the door behind her.

  What the hell was that?

  Ignoring Cecilia’s loss of focus, I get back to work and check Henrik’s payment history to ensure he hasn’t bought a new phone that I don’t know about. No transactions match a phone purchase or change in his behavior online. One detail I do like is that he’s removing Facebook friends he’s dated and cleaning up who he’s following on social media. He seems to want to start fresh and get rid of his past.

  With them gone, his online presence has decreased significantly. I grab my phone. It’s eleven in the evening, and Henrik should be home by now.

  Waiting for him to get here, I edit my will by deleting my request for a tombstone. I instead ask to be cremated and brought to my parents’ bed and breakfast in Portugal.

  Three hours later, I’m exhausted in bed beside Henrik when he turns to me with a stern look.

  “Am I good enough for you?” He’s staring at me as if demanding an honest response.

  His question drains me. “What do you mean?”

  Of course you’re not. Oh, is this why you haven’t asked me to be y
our girlfriend again?

  He shuffles both hands under the pillow, supporting his head. “Think of the way I’m proud to show you off. If I’m good enough to be your boyfriend, you would be proud to show me off too.”

  “You were proud?”

  It didn’t seem like it.

  “That’s why I brought you to meet my family. Now you’re just dodging my question. Would you be proud to introduce me to your family?”

  Nope. I avoid any place we could potentially meet anyone I know when we go out.

  “Of course I am.” I kiss his nose, and his mouth stretches into a huge grin.

  Hell will freeze over before you ever meet anyone I care about.

  “What do you want for your thirtieth birthday?” He sits up as if preparing for me to shower him with wishes. “Only two weeks away now.”

  Not to celebrate my birthday.

  I sit up next to him. He eases his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Nothing.”

  “I want to get you something, come on.”

  I don’t want anything to remind me of you, or that I have to get rid of after I’m done with you.

  “Why don’t you take me somewhere? Just you and I?”

  He grins. “Done.” Then he lets out a long sigh as if he’s figured out where to take me and is not only happy but calm and content with his choice. “You are mine,” he says.

  I snuggle back down and turn over to my side, my back to him to hide my frustration.

  Idiot. I’ll never be yours.

  The following morning, Henrik leaves for work, and I spend a few hours catching up on his activity. Katelyn is gone. She never texted him again after she saw us in Bodø, and he never reached out either.

  She had to have a reason for running off like she did. Or maybe she just didn’t want to face me?

  I decide that it doesn’t matter, get dressed, and head out to the shop to stock up on food and coffee. Keeping up my act is taking its toll on me, and my craving for caffeine is higher than ever.

  Exiting my apartment building, I immediately wish I hadn’t. On the other side of the street, holding her phone up as if comparing an image to my building is Katelyn.

  25

  Has Katelyn flown all the way from Bergen to confront me?

  Instinctively, I back up, my heel crashing on the step, and I stop before tilting over. I stare at her and she at me for what feels like several minutes.

  She eyes me up and down. “Why did you know who I was?” Her voice is determined, but high pitched, ending on a higher note than necessary to ask a question.

  “Did you come all this way to confront me?” I shake my head in disbelief. As far as she knows, I’m not to blame here. “It’s Henrik, you…”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here visiting family. They’re having coffee at Tim Wendelboe down the street.” She points as if I don’t know where it is, and I don’t correct her.

  “I left to get coffee too. Wait here, and I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not here to have coffee with you. I need answers, and I’ve already asked Henrik.”

  “And he’s lied about it.” There’s no point not to confirm her suspicions. Perhaps that will let me go back inside too. I don’t want Henrik to arrive and find us discussing him in the street. “It’s freezing.”

  “It’s January,” she says as if I’m the idiot.

  Are you just pretending to be tough?

  I decide to find out.

  “Serve yourself.” I walk past her and into the shop. My pulse is beating like a bass drum in my chest as I collect coffee and pay. Katelyn is waiting outside when I return, and I stop next to her. We’re both looking at my entrance door. “Henrik will be back in about an hour. Let me make you a cup of coffee, and we’ll talk.”

  She shakes her head, and I notice tears filling her eyes. “I have kids that care about him too.”

  “I know. He’s an asshole, and I’m sorry he treated you this way.”

  She turns to me. “What?”

  I want to tell her everything. How she’s not only been played by Henrik, but by me as well. She never had a chance. But I can’t. If she tells Henrik, my plan and these past months will have all been for nothing. “Ask me anything. I’ll be honest.”

  She straightens up as if she has been waiting for this opportunity for days. “Have you stayed with him at a hotel in Bergen?”

  “Yes.”

  Her lower lip trembles. “Did…have…” She stops, takes a deep breath, and looks at me. Her eyes big, longing for me to wake her up from her nightmare.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You deserve so much better than him, and you know that.”

  She turns away from me, laughing, and I wait for her to look at me again to see if it really is laughter or loud crying. It’s both. “About time I understand that.” Katelyn looks down at the bag of coffee beans I’m holding as if contemplating my offer. “What will you do with him?”

  Did you just realize that I don’t love him?

  I smile, but before I have time to respond, she cuts me off. “Doesn’t matter.” She gets her gloves out from her pockets and pulls them on. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you. I’ll need it.”

  She smiles that smile you make when realizing an unspoken truth. “Yes, you will.”

  As she walks towards Tim Wendelboe and her family, I can’t help but feel I’ve underestimated Katelyn. Although a part of me will always worry that she might ruin my plans, I somehow know with full certainty that she won’t. I’d even be surprised if she ever contacts Henrik again.

  Two weeks pass, and it’s routine by now. When Henrik heads off to work, I catch up with his activity. From what I can find, he’s not in contact with any other women, and checking his purchases, he hasn’t bought a new phone yet either. When he does, and if I don’t have a similar phone, I already have money withdrawn to get a clone. He’s not active on his social media accounts, but I ensure no new devices connect there either.

  I won’t let myself get sloppy. I need to stay in control, on top of what he’s doing while I move towards my goal. Katelyn never did text him after we met, and he never contacted her either.

  On my birthday, January twenty-third, I pretend to be asleep for as long as possible when Henrik hums Happy Birthday.

  “Happy birthday, my wonderful girlfriend,” Henrik whispers in my ear as I bury my head in the pillow to block out rays of sunlight from the window.

  “What time is it?”

  Sunshine in January only lasts a few hours, so it must be after lunch, at least.

  “A quarter to one,” Henrik says and kisses my shoulder. “We can’t miss your day. We have to make the most of it.”

  Fine. Get it together, and let’s play along.

  “Wait, why aren’t you at work?”

  He grins. “I took the morning off to spend with you, but I have a meeting in an hour. Can we meet up for a celebratory beer after?” He jumps up, setting one foot and one arm on each side of me, trapping me underneath him as he bends down to kiss me.

  I can’t help but smile. “Sure.”

  “Don’t dress up, I’m buying, and it’s a casual place.” He runs to the bathroom. Water from the shower splashes and I turn around, cuddling myself underneath the warmth of the duvet.

  Henrik has stayed with me most days in January without ever asking why I keep my office door closed at all times. As a guy who enjoys questions more than exclamation marks, he doesn’t ask a lot of them. Still, after he got rid of Katelyn and deleted Tinder, he hasn’t sexted anyone else. He’s spent most nights with me, which only means I’m getting closer to my goal of his proposal.

  The shower stops, and Henrik peeks around the corner. “We need to plan a vacation together. What do you think of Thailand?”

  Hmmm, mosquitoes, humidity, poverty, suppressed people smiling, disgusting white men taking advantage of others?

  “Sure, sounds great.”

  He
wiggles his butt at me and calls out as he closes the door to the bathroom behind him. “You and me in a beach bungalow with crashing waves on our doorstep? Paradise.”

  A few seconds later, he returns and throws his naked body into bed. “Why don’t I move in with you?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  No!

  He flips onto his back, gesturing with his arms as he speaks. “Here’s my apartment, here’s yours. My apartment is solely used as a far-away wardrobe at the moment. You say you love having me here?”

  I’m lying! I don’t want you or your things here.

  “O...okay.” The words escape me.

  I can’t say no. You won’t propose then. At least not because you want to. If I tell you we have to be engaged before living together, I’m the one planting the thought and initiating an engagement. It must come from you without me ever hinting towards it. You must want to marry me, desire it, and not feel pushed into it. My plan won’t work unless you get there emotionally yourself.

  “I’d love to have you here with me.” Getting better at this all the time, I smirk. “Easier access.” I blink before flipping my duvet off and straddling him.

  The more I convince you that our life will be like the one you’ve dreamed of, the faster you’ll propose.

  He laughs. “Shit, I love you.” He cups my face as I bend down to kiss him, looks me dead in the eyes, and repeats himself. “I love you.”

  Stop forcing tenderness from me.

  I push forward to avoid the intimacy he’s seeking, but he’s not letting go.

  I slant my head, take in a deep breath, and bite my lower lip. “I love you too.”

  Now get the fuck out and go to work so I can spy on you.

  I meet Henrik outside my apartment building. It’s a cloudy day, and the sidewalks are covered in ice and gravel, so we walk hand in hand to a bar just up the street.

  I can’t believe I’m thirty years old today. I always imagined celebrating this day with Isac and my family.