Eluding Fate

by Delilah Mohan

  His fingers pressed hard into me, bruising my skin, and I knew when daylight came, there was a chance I might not be able to walk, to move, to possible breathe on my own because the way he was stealing the breath from me now, I might never want it back. Not as long as this feeling lasted forever and his body stayed close to mine.

  I was so close. My body vibrated in sync with my own heartbeat, the same heartbeat that was in tune with his. Our bodies moved in rhythm, a unit of one. And when his fingers pressed a little firmer, at the same moment he bit down on my neck and whispered in my ear, I lost it.

  I gasped, struggling to pull air into my body as pleasure balled in my center and exploded outward, leaving no part of my body untouched. Moments after my own orgasm hit, I felt his body stiffen behind me, his grip tightened, and seconds later, his warmth flooded me.

  I savored it. Mentally memorizing and cherishing every curve of our body that matched mine perfectly. I soaked in the feel of his hands on my skin and his warmth that enveloped me and heated me from the inside out, knowing too soon he would pull away.

  And he did. With a kiss to my cheek, then my temple, ending at my forehead, he whispered words I was still too incoherent to decipher before he reached down for his pants and pulled them over his legs. He grabbed his shirt, gave me one last kiss, and was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Spencer

  The past few weeks had been incredible. There was just something about having her body, feeling her take me into her that made me feel the closest to being whole that I’d felt in years. I didn’t even mind that it was a bunch of sneaking around, late nights, early mornings, and stealth getaways. Time, something so important outside her orbit, was nothing when standing inside of it.

  I checked my watch, 5:45 p.m. That left me fifteen minutes to get our coffees and meet her at her place. We had planned to take advantage of the crisp air outside and walk to the theater a few blocks away. I needed the distraction, but she didn’t know that. So, when she suggested a movie tonight, I jumped at the opportunity to numb my mind while being close to her.

  I placed our order, making sure to add one of those chocolate muffins I knew she adored before strolling to the wall and skimming it. I searched the whole wall, seeking out the familiar flowery letters of the stranger I once thought of as a friend. Maybe a little more than friends, if I admitted to the whole truth. I came up empty in my search, and part of me felt sadness for never fully completing the connection I had with this stranger, but another part of me was thankful that I wouldn’t be faced with the guilt of exchanging letters when I had Mari at my side now.

  My name was called, and I stepped forward to collect my coffees. I checked my watch, 5:52. I walked to our apartment building, skipping my own apartment in favor of Mari’s. Her door was unlocked, it always was unlocked, and I made a mental note to discuss that with her. We lived in a safe neighborhood, and an even safer building, but that didn’t mean she should be so careless. Her shower was running, adding another notch to my annoyance about the door. She left herself completely at the mercy of anyone who walked in.

  I sat her coffee on the kitchen counter before walking down the hall and opening the bathroom door, “Hey, I’m here. You left your door unlocked.”

  I watched through the opaque shower door as she stood under the stream of water, running water through her hair. Her hands traveled down her wet locks, wringing out water as the liquid continued to saturate it. “Give me a few more minutes.”

  “We’re going to be late.”

  “No one cares for the opening previews, anyway.” She grabbed the shampoo bottle.

  “True. Still, hurry up, or we will never leave.” I forced myself to shut the door instead of rooting my feet in place to watch her.

  I strolled back to her living room and sipped my coffee while fiddling on my phone. I used my time waiting to answer a few emails, check my social media and send a few messages to my niece. After answering my third email, Mari still wasn’t done, so I pulled out her desk chair to relax a bit.

  Relax wasn’t really the right word, though. I thought about the upcoming anniversary of my brother’s death, and I wondered if this year would be better than the last for Victoria. It’d been hard, so indescribably hard to live without him; to go each day closer to the countdown and know there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. Another year would pass, another marker of time, and an additional strand of guilt would be added.

  Twisting and turning, I bounced up and down a few times to check the chair’s shocks before making a mental note to buy her a new desk chair. Her career was based off this chair, and the chair had to be the worst place I’d sat in my life. I stretched my legs out, pulled my arms above my head to work the muscles, and then reached for my coffee again, hitting the mouse in the process.

  The screen came to life with her current work in progress, a piece about a formerly suicidal man who fell in love with a ghost. It was an internet serial with pieces posted weekly to her blog, but her fans loved it, and admittedly, I might have been keeping up on it, too. I skimmed the next installment, feeling entitled to the exclusive since Mari and I were together.

  I reached out to the mouse, ready to close the screen when a piece of yellow legal paper caught my eye. I paused for a moment, knowing that this wasn’t my property, and under some circumstances, this act could be considered snooping. But, I wasn’t snooping, I considered my gazing at her desk’s personal content as my allowed insider info. If it were something so important where she thought I couldn’t see it, then I would assume she would have it locked up or placed inside a drawer to shield it from prying eyes.

  I shook away the guilty feelings that coursed through my gut and pulled one of the papers out of the folder. My heart sunk, my hands shook, the guilt that knotted my stomach moments before turned to nausea, and I had to swallow a few times to get past the lump in my throat. It wasn’t just a simple piece of paper outlining her future plans, noting an upcoming doctor’s appointment, or concealing important book plots; those were my notes from the Jot wall.

  My notes.

  My personal thoughts.

  My private feelings.

  And this whole time she had them all. She had them, and she played me and my emotions because how could she not know it was me? She had to have seen me sneaking them on the wall. The extent of cruelty for her to take my private thoughts and pretend like she didn’t know, stole my breath. I was a joke to her. Our relationship was a joke. I froze with the realization of some similarities between her story and my personal letters to whom I thought was a friend. My hands turned clammy with the betrayal.

  I heard the bathroom door open, the sound of her voice chattering something to me, but I couldn’t process her words. I couldn’t force my voice to answer. I couldn’t do much of anything besides fist the sheets of yellow paper in my hands, crumpling them in my palms.

  Mari appeared from the hallway, a towel in her hand, drying her hair over her shoulder. “Hey, did you hear me?”

  I looked at her, the hauntingly beautiful face of betrayal that had captured my love, and broke my heart, brought me hope, then destroyed me. “Not a single word.”

  Chapter Thirty

  MARI

  He held the legal papers in his hands, holding them so tightly that the paper creased and crinkled in his palm. “How could you?”

  “It’s not what you think.” I knew he assumed I was seeing another man, but it was far from it. It was nothing more than just notes, letters, between two friends.

  “These were personal.” Anger etched the space between his eyebrows.

  “They are, so what are you doing with them? Those are mine, and they were on my desk, in a folder.” I fiddled with the damp towel, moving it between my hands, trying not to seem bothered by the situation.

  “Did you think this was a joke, Mari? Using these as the basis for your story? Like I wouldn’t find out?” He tossed the papers onto the desk, they slid across the top, and some
drifted to the floor.

  “I don’t understand.” And I didn’t understand. Those were my property, a series of sweet exchanges from an unknown source at Jolts. He shouldn’t get this worked up about it, yet he was furious. Almost as if I could see the heartbreak across his handsome face.

  “What isn’t there to understand? You used me. I opened up to you, trusted you, and you used it all against me for your own gain.” He rested his hand on his hip, his head looking toward the ground.

  There was silence surrounding us as I tried to process his words. Finally, when the pieces started to fall together, I spoke, “Are you saying those are yours, Spencer?”

  “Like you didn’t know,” he huffed.

  “I didn’t.” The words came out with more force than necessary, but I wanted him to feel the truth in them, to know he could trust me and to forgive me for this misunderstanding.

  “How am I going to believe that, believe you, when this whole time, you’ve been leading me on?”

  “What does that even mean? I’ve done nothing wrong!” I could tell he was in pain, and I wanted to wrap my arm around him, but I didn’t think that was what he wanted or needed at the moment.

  “Nothing?” His voice was louder now, his patience lost, his emotions high, “Nothing except you worked your way into my life, into Victoria’s life, just for your own selfish game. Did you not think how this would affect us, what it would do to her? To me?”

  I watched him, the emotions playing across his face, and I knew there was more to his meltdown than finding those letters. So many more insecurities that were slipping out because he was afraid, but I couldn’t fix those for him, that was something he had to do himself. All I could do was try to make him see reason and hope that when he decided to calm down and replay events in his head, he would realize he was wrong about it all.

  “I didn’t work my way into your life, Spencer, you worked your way into mine.” I thought about all the times he came over uninvited, extending his hand of friendship until he became my person, so solidly implanted that I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

  “Tell me the truth, when we met, was that intentional? Was that whole accident planned?” His fingers were running through his hair, and I knew deep down he realized he was going way too far, but I didn’t think he could bring himself to stop now.

  “What do you think, Spencer?” I had a feeling he would believe what he wanted regardless, my words wouldn’t change it.

  “You want to know the worst part about it all Mari? We loved you. Victoria loved you. I . . . I loved you.” He said he loved me, and I’d never heard more broken words come out of his mouth. Words so significant and holding so much weight for him to say but were now tainted by the whole situation.

  The front door opened and moments later, Victoria came bouncing into my apartment. “Guess what?”

  “Not now, Victoria,” Spencer spoke sharply.

  “I just . . .” she started again, as she hugged a giant paper crane to her chest.

  “Damn it, Victoria, I said not now.” He sat on the end of the couch arm, burying his hand in his palms for a moment, then he looked up. “I didn’t ask for this.”

  Victoria froze, her lips trembled, “Ask for what, Spencer?”

  I knew, how could I not, that the next moment was important, that he needed to choose his words carefully and step lightly if he was going to rectify the situation. But, he didn’t. He let his emotions control his voice, and I watched as he broke his little girl's heart.

  “All of this.” He spread his arms wide.

  “All of what, Spencer? You’re going to have to be more specific,” Victoria spoke the words slowly, alerting him of possible danger, but he didn’t get it.

  “I never asked for . . .” he stopped, panic registering on his face.

  “Me. You never asked for me,” Victoria stated, her voice void of emotion.

  “Well, ya. But, that wasn’t what . . .” He was floundering for words but came up short. His head was barely bobbing above water, inches from drowning, and all he had to do to save himself was speak now. But he didn’t, he left his sentence hanging that the thick air was enough to push him down.

  “Save it, Spencer, I didn’t ask for you either!” Victoria yelled and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door with all the force she could muster.

  And he sunk.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Spencer

  I watched the giant paper crane float to the floor as Victoria stormed off and slammed the door, and I knew I messed up. I messed up big. I wasn’t angry at Victoria, yet I took my anger out on her. Hell, I didn’t even know if I was angry at Mari, but seeing my papers sitting on her desk, having her know my deepest feelings and secrets, it embarrassed me. I felt ashamed that she knew me like that, that she could judge me on a level I didn’t intentionally show her.

  So, instead of accepting that weird coincidental mishap at face value, I got mad.

  I directed it at Mari.

  I pushed it at Victoria.

  But, the fact of the matter was, the things I was thinking, the turmoil I felt, especially now when it was so close to another year mark, I couldn’t figure out any other way to direct it, except outward.

  “You were out of line,” Mari whispered.

  “You think I don’t know that!?” Even now, knowing this wasn’t her fault, I couldn’t stop myself.

  “So, what are you still doing here? Go fix it.” She pointed to the door then crossed her arms in front of herself, a defense mechanism against me, and I felt like scum. I knew the way her ex-husband had treated her. I vowed to do better, but only a few weeks into our relationship and I was failing her.

  “I wasn’t done talking to you,” my voice was stern, but my pitch calmed some.

  “Any conversation you need to have, or want to have with me is secondary to the conversation you need to have with that kid.” I knew she was right, but I hated leaving her here when I was still angry, and she was still looking at me with such disappointment and regret. “Now!”

  I looked between the door and Mari, wishing I had the moment to apologize, but Victoria needed me, and maybe I needed her, too. I took a step toward the door, and halted, “I’ll be back.”

  “I don’t doubt you will,” she sighed.

  I opened the door to silence and knowing I hurt her caused a heaviness to settle over me. I could feel it crushing my chest, my body ready to crumble as I walked the halls of my apartment, listening for any sign of movement.

  “Victoria, where are you? I need to apologize.” I knew it wasn’t much, but I liked to be direct with her, so she knew where I stood. I knocked on her bedroom door, waiting for her to open it. I knocked again, and when I didn’t hear anything, I opened it. It was empty; the whole apartment was empty.

  My pulse picked up speed, my heart feeling like it would jolt out of my chest. I called her name, my search turning frantic, hoping that I would open a closet door and she would be there hiding from me like she did when she was little. When things were simple. But as I flung each door open, I was faced to admit what I already knew . . . she was gone.

  Because of me.

  Because of my temper.

  How could I have let it happen? I struggled to suck in a breath, already feeling the pain of loss all over again, and positive that I chased her away for good. I rushed out of the apartment, taking the stairs up to the roof two at a time, ignoring the usual claustrophobia that the stairwell caused me. Once at the top, I used my shoulder to force the door open, but she wasn’t there.

  I was screaming now. I wasn’t even sure when that started, where I crossed the fine line between worry and outright panic, but maybe the louder I was, the more she would know that I did care. I did. I cared so fucking much, and I didn’t even know how I could begin to tell her, to make her understand that in this life, I would do and be anything if she was happy.

  I practically tumbled down the stairs, not sure where I was heading, but knowing I had
to keep looking. Anywhere. Everywhere. The determination was consuming me now, controlling my every move, fueling my every thought.

  I stepped off the stairs leading from the roof, turned the corner, and I ran right straight into Mari. “What is it? I could hear you from my apartment.”

  I tried to push past her, having no time for delays or conversation, just that all-consuming need to find her, to find my family, the one remaining piece of Simon I had left. “She’s gone. I looked everywhere inside, and she’s gone.”

  She stepped in front of me, “Do you think she just went for a walk?”

  I tilted my body to the side, shouldering past. “She would have told me.”

  Her hands grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Spencer, just stop for a second. Calm down.”

  “Don’t you get it, Mari? It’s happening again, and it’s my fault!” I tried yanking my arm away from her, but her nails dug into my skin, keeping me close to her.

  “How can I understand if you won’t talk to me?” Her eyes filled with concern, or was it pity? Did she pity me because no matter how hard I tried to keep it together, to keep my schedules strict, and my life on a predetermined path, it was still nothing close to orderly?

  “The night Simon died, we had a fight. I was supposed to watch Victoria, but I forgot. I showed up late, and he was angry about how irresponsible I am with time, how I could be so selfish when others depend on me.” I felt paralyzed with the memory, with the fault that lies heavily on my shoulders. Frozen from the knowledge that I let my brother and best friend down, that I let Victoria down, that I alone, single-handedly ruined my family. “He stormed out, just like she did. Next thing I know, he was dead. They said if he were passing five minutes earlier, he would have missed the pileup. The five minutes I stole from him while we argued took his life. I have to find her now, every minute I don’t find her, is a minute closer to me never seeing her again.”