by M K Lansbury
Zara’s voice broke at the last sentence. She quickly ended the call and curled up on her side in her bed.
Her world was coming crashing down.
Zara recalled the conversation she’d had with Lance a few weeks ago. She’d thought it was a joke when she’d asked:
“And you can picture yourself doing that? Crushing my company and my confidence?”
He had chuckled. “If the need arises.”
Why hadn’t she seen the truth behind that? No relationships, no friendships, no associations mattered to Lance. All he cared about was climbing higher on the success ladder. He didn’t care that he would be alone when he got to the top by stomping on others.
His betrayal had a ripple effect, hurting everyone, Ally, Chet, Soul Mate, everyone. She’d betrayed them all.
All because she fell madly in love with Lance Chase.
EIGHTEEN
Soul Mate, and the Soulmate
You’re still in bed?”
Zara heard her mother but didn’t bother responding. She lay atop the crumpled-up duvet, the sheets half pulled off the mattress. A sliver of light had managed to find its way through the closed curtains, and that’s the spot Zara chose to stare at.
Staring at walls was all she’d wanted to do for the last two days.
Moping—she’d come to believe—was incredibly comforting. It was something to do: a purpose. If she didn’t have moping to do, she wouldn't have anything at all.
She’d already given up on eating real food.
The fresh, steaming fettuccini alfredo Zara’s mother had made for Zara an hour ago was now a full plate of cold goo. Tara had cleaned the area of the room surrounding the bed, but Zara refused to let her touch the laundry tangled in the duvet or the crumbs on the pillow or the used Kleenex scattered over and under Zara.
“Did you hear me, darling?”
Zara sighed, just to show that she had. It was too exhausting to speak.
“I brought Dad back from the hospital. He’s in his room and asking about you.”
Zara sighed again. She tried to ask about Dad; she really wanted to. But maybe after a few more days, when she felt better, lying on her childhood bed, in her childhood home.
Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Zara’s back, up and down over the green t-shirt she’d worn to bed.
“Zara?”
“Hmm,” Zara managed shortly.
Her mother lifted off the bed with a sigh. She clearly didn’t know how to help Zara. “I’ll get you some tea and cookies.”
Zara didn’t say yes, but she didn't say no, either. That’s all she’d eaten in the last two days. Real food tasted weird, and her throat closed up in protest when she shoved a bite in her mouth. The only thing she’d been able to stomach was cookies, so her mother was now on a baking spree.
Yesterday, Zara could’ve sworn she tasted zucchini in her chocolate chip cookies and carrots in the fudge cookies.
Bless mom for trying to sneak some vegetables into me like I'm two.
“Fudge.”
Her mother turned at the door. “What?”
“Fudge cookies.”
Her mother grinned. “Okay, dear. Fudge it is.”
Zara curled to her side and wished her mother had opened the curtains. She considered getting up but was too emotionally exhausted to have the physical strength to move in bed. She was wildly aware of the stale crumbs underneath her.
Under normal circumstances, the grittiness would’ve driven her crazy. But Zara didn't care anymore. She had bigger problems to worry about. Her heart broke thinking about what Ally was going through.
Ally’s words and accusations grated at Zara’s sanity, which was hanging by a thread.
Even her love for Lance didn’t matter anymore because she now knew the truth. From the very beginning, Lance had set out to destroy her. He’d played out his strategy. Lure Zara into his life, foster trust so she’d reveal details about Soul Mate. Details that had now cost Ally her algorithm. Chet, his future. And Zara? Her friends.
There was no happy ending to this. She’d screwed up everything past redemption.
A knock on the bedroom door didn’t even make her shift. She continued to gaze at the opposite wall. The door creaked open, and Zara waited morosely for her tea and cookies.
“I said fudge, Mom!”
“You awake?”
The whisper from right behind her made Zara lurch upright. It wasn’t her mother’s voice.
“Ally?” Her voice was a croak, a consequence of not using her vocal cords in over forty-eight hours.
Ally stood with her hands clasped together looking a little embarrassed. “Did I wake you up?”
Zara shook her head no. She couldn’t believe it. Was she hallucinating? Her sanity shattered and destroyed to a point where she was dreaming up a fantasy world?
Why in the world would Ally there?
Zara watched in horror as her hallucination kicked off her sneakers and grabbed the edge of the duvet.
“Scoot!” she said agitatedly.
Zara did as ordered, unable to resist the command of her hallucination.
It was only when Ally’s warm body shoved her aside in her crumb-full bed when Zara realized she hadn’t gone mad. This fantasy smelled of Ally’s favorite Versace perfume.
“Your mom tells me you’ve taken on a new full-time job.”
“What?” Zara slowly surfaced from her disorientation.
“Moping. Sulking. Being miserable.”
Zara sighed.
“Does it pay well? I need a source of income too, you know?”
Zara chuckled, and the sound came out rusty.
“I'm sorry, Zara.”
Zara’s head snapped toward Ally, and tears blurred her sight. “What are you apologizing for?”
“I'm really sorry for everything I said to you. I overreacted. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“You were absolutely right about everything you said. I made a complete and utter fool of myself. And I ruined your venture just for my infatuation.”
“Shhh!” Ally sat up in bed. “Stop that. Enough blaming. Now get up; we have stuff to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The anniversary party.”
“What?”
Ally slapped Zara’s thigh so hard, Zara squealed. “Ally!”
“Listen, Zara: we’re sisters. Whenever one of us makes a mistake—”
“This is a very big mistake.”
“Sure. Whatever. Big mistake. You completely ruined everything and destroyed my life and yours. Happy?”
Zara cowered. “You still sound very resentful.”
“Because your pity-party needs to end. Whatever you did is in the past; we’re friends. And I’ll be damned if I let some loser destroy our friendship.”
Zara grinned and threw her arms around Ally’s neck, hugging her tightly.
Ally patted her back. “Okay. Don’t make me cry now. We’ve gotta get this party together. But first thing’s first,” She slid off the bed and made a face. “Go take a shower.”
Zara chuckled and shrugged. “Are you saying I smell?”
“Absolutely. And God, look at this bed. If this was your idea of penance for what you’ve done, I say you’ve done your time. This is disgusting.”
“Yeah, I guess it kinda is.” Zara smiled.
“And when you’ve showered, we need to get going. I’ve spent the last two days getting your party arrangements together again. All the vendors, the venue, all in place. But there are still lots of errands.”
“But I canceled everything.”
“Well, I un-canceled them. Your dad’s home and feeling better. I think that alone’s worthy of celebration, right?”
“You did all that?”
“Well, Tristan and Chet helped out. They’re both running around right now, doing our bidding for us.”
Zara reached for Ally
again, sobbing, but Ally dodged her with some Krav Maga level moves and stepped back.
“Thanks, Ally. For everything.”
“I love you, Zara. I love you to death. But please, shower first.”
“You're mean.”
***
Half an hour later, Zara returned from a bathroom freshly showered, a towel wrapped around her head, wearing a white shirt over white cotton shorts. Ally was in her bed, on fresh sheets. The pink and purple duvet was missing. Bright sunlight filtered through the open curtains and onto Ally’s legs. Zara’s mother had wasted no time in vacuuming the whole room and opening the windows to let in some fresh air.
Zara also suspected Ally had sprayed some of her Versace perfume in the room to make it not smell like the inside of a full laundry basket.
Ally was scrolling through her phone before she looked up at Zara with a strange, calculating look in her eye.
“What’s the first errand?”
“Well, a sit-down. Get over here.”
Zara plopped herself into bed next to Ally.
“You’re an idiot, Zara.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have trusted him.”
“No, you should have trusted me.” She poked Zara in the ribs. “Why in the world didn’t you tell me about your budding romance with Lance Chase?”
Zara grimaced. “I don’t know. Because?”
“Because what? We share everything. I'm more hurt that you didn’t think you could come to me with this. If you were falling for Chase, which I seem to believe you really did, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I guess I knew it was wrong.”
“You’re always dating your coworkers.”
Zara chortled mirthlessly and groaned. “I know. What’s wrong with me?”
Ally sighed. “A workplace is not the place to find a man. Find them outside. There are millions.”
“Okay, first off . . . in my defense . . .”
“This is going to be gold!” Ally turned to face Zara.
“I didn’t find Lance in the workplace.”
“Uhh, yes, you did. You met him at Kassandra Young’s show, and you knew exactly who he was. Off-limits!”
“I met him in Montauk.”
Ally’s mouth fell open. “Montauk?”
“Yeah, when we went to the party at the glass house. Remember when I left you with Christy and went out to the beach? That’s where I met Lance. We talked. We connected. Or I thought we did. I'm a fool for believing it. Ow!”
Ally shoved Zara onto her back, and with insane agility, straddled her waist. It was a swift move that had been perfected via abundant practice over the years. Zara screamed as Ally proceeded to pin Zara’s wrists on the mattress on either side of her head.
“What are you doing, crazy!” Zara cried. “Stop. God, how are you so strong, you tiny person!”
“I hate you,” Ally yelled as they struggled on the bed.
Zara fought back but failed to free herself as Ally held her down.
“You met a man in Montauk. Had a gushy, romantic meet-cute with him, and you didn’t tell me? I tell you when a guy smiles at me from across the street!”
“I'm sorry!” Zara was screaming when Zara's mother entered, holding a tray laden with food.
Her mother didn't even bat an eye at the two twenty-nine-years-olds wrestling on the bed. She’d seen it a thousand times before.
They’d soon be rolling on the bed laughing their lungs out.
NINETEEN
Love Happened; Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Man
The golf club was decked out in white roses. Though it was only an anniversary, it looked like it could have been an elaborate wedding.
The grassy, open space right next to the clubhouse of Montgomery Golf Club was lined with five parallel tables, providing enough seating for the hundred and twenty guests. The centerpieces were fresh fern and white roses, and the glassware gleamed with a hint of gold.
The DJ had set up next to the white canopy that the clubhouse provided for brides. It had turned out to be a blessing, considering the venue was just outside of town. Tara, Zara, and Ally had used the privacy of the canopy to get their hair and makeup done.
Zara's father, Zack, looked dashing in a light gray suit. Her mother, Tara, wore a shimmering gray wrap dress and was having a blast.
Zara stood near the bar with a glass of lemonade looking on at the festivities.
It made her long for her own fairytale ending. Would she ever find her own happily-ever-after like her mother and father? That’s something she’d always wanted. One day, she’d always told herself.
Zara sat at the bar with her sixteen-year-old cousin, Brianna, who was full of questions on how she could become an entrepreneur one day just like Zara and Ally. She was a smart girl with blonde curly hair, and Zara had belatedly realized that the discussion with Brianna could make or break her future.
“So I told Dad I don’t want to go to college. I’m going to start my own soap company.”
Zara’s head spun toward Brianna. This had suddenly become way too heavy a conversation. “Brianna, going to college is non-negotiable, sweetheart. No matter what you want to do, you need to go to college.”
“But what will I do with a paper with a degree on it when I won’t even use it?”
Zara smiled, her heart beating fast. She looked around for help—mainly Ally—but Ally was at the far end of the tables talking to Tristan and his mother. Zara would have to do this on her own.
“College isn’t just about a paper with a degree on it. There's a lot more that comes with it. Social interactions, opportunities. The entire college experience teaches you independence and stimulates creativity. You can’t do great things trapped between four walls of home. You need to get out of there and challenge yourself.”
Brianna sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t repeat exactly what my dad said.”
Zara grimaced. “Brianna, your dad is giving you the best advice. So many doors open for you after you get a college degree. You can do anything you want.”
“Even start my own company?”
Zara nodded. “Even start ten companies.”
Brianna grinned and slipped off the barstool. “Thanks, Zara.”
Zara turned toward the bar, inhaling deeply.
As the bartender poured a glass of scotch for a guest, Zara watched the liquid mindlessly. Suddenly, Lance’s handsome, smiling face popped into her mind.
Zara shook her head to clear it. Lance didn’t deserve to be part of her thoughts. She shouldn’t be missing him. All the memories she had of him, every moment she’d spent in his company, was a farce. A ploy devised to make sure Zara was left with nothing at the end.
All so Lance could water his own success and harvest his piles of money. Zara was nothing but a pawn in Lance’s game.
Ally and Tristan were laughing at something Zara’s father said. Ally blushed, leaning close to Tristan and pressing a hand to his heart. Zara couldn’t help but smile. Ally got her happily-ever-after.
Chet was at the buffet with Christy chatting animatedly about something. She walked over to them, and Chet instantly included her in a detailed account of how his parents had raved about Chet’s success to his senator’s chief of staff brother.
Zara wondered how he found a reason to rejoice, considering Zara had just destroyed all his dreams.
Stop it. Stop berating yourself.
She couldn't when she knew the truth. She was to blame.
There was furor on the dance floor as Zara’s father made his way to the center on his wheelchair and spun it around, dangerously veering on two wheels. Tara tried to make him stop, but it was no use. Zack took Tara’s hand, somehow making her dance along with the wheelchair between them.
Zara strode forward, cheering for them, forgetting everything that was wrong. She laughed when her dad moved his wheelchair back and forth, in time with the live DJ music.
“You go,
Dad!” She clapped for them and bumped into a laughing Ally as the guests applauded the couple celebrating the fortieth anniversary of their love.
Dinner was served, and the long tables were full of laughter.
Zara’s father sat in his wheelchair at the end of the first table, her mother on one side and Zara on the other. Next to Zara, Ally clutched her arm.
“I've been meaning to tell you, Zara. Tristan’s sister, Tess, is arranging a fundraiser for human trafficking victims, and she’d love to have us involved to help put together the event.”
“Wow.” Zara’s eyes widened. “That would be an honor. The two of us can do anything, really.”
Ally’s sweet forgiveness and unconditional love made Ally feel another bout of hopeless guilt.
She wanted to face the brunt of Ally’s anger. She deserved it.
Uncle Dennis stood and raised his champagne glass. “Okay, I have something to say.”
“Of course you do!” Zara’s father muttered almost ominously. Everyone who knew her dad’s history with Uncle Dennis laughed raucously.
Uncle Dennis winked at him. “Zack, let me start with the thing that I can’t forget today . . .”
“Oh, no!” Zack yelled with robust laughter that almost made him cough.
“. . . I thought I had found the one, and then you dove right in and stole her.”
Everyone laughed. The history of their love triangle common knowledge. It helped that Zack, Tara, and Dennis were always such good sports about it.
“It has been forty years, and now I think it’s time for me to forgive you for stealing my girlfriend. To the pair made in heaven, may you see lots more years of happiness together with your health intact.”