Unforgivable Sin

by Isabel Lucero

  I step into the beautifully decorated room and place my bag on the cream and maroon colored comforter. After I go to the bathroom that makes my bathroom look like a fucking porta potty, and take a shower, I make my way downstairs towards the kitchen. I never got to eat after my run, and my stomach is mad at me because of it.

  A few soft lights are glowing from up above, and I don’t bother trying to find any other switches. I discover some sandwich stuff in the fridge along with some fruit. After I put it all on a plate and grab a Gatorade, I hop onto the large island that houses the stove, and eat my food.

  I hear a noise coming from up above, so I’m assuming Marc is still awake and moving around up there. I wonder if he always tries to go to sleep this early. Glancing at the digital clock on the oven, I see that it’s only nine-thirty.

  After I eat the last of my grapes, I hop off the counter and wash my plate. I hear footsteps making their way to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Marc. I’m just cleaning my mess.”

  When he doesn’t respond, I look up just in time to see a woman walk in. She has dark hair that’s pulled into a messy ponytail, and it’s obvious she’s staying the night by her attire. Wearing only a large t-shirt, that I assume is Marc’s, and some short shorts, she walks in with a grin on her face.

  I clear my throat. “Hi.”

  She doesn’t look too surprised to see another woman in here. “Hey,” she responds, giving me a friendly smile.

  “I’m Emilie. I was just…”

  “I know. Marc told me,” she says, continuing to smile at me. “I’m Thalia.” She extends her hand to me.

  “Hi, Thalia,” I reply, shaking her hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt your night tonight. I had no idea he was going to have company.”

  She laughs an airy laugh. “No. You wouldn’t know, but don’t worry about.” Thalia waves a dismissive hand in the air as she goes to the fridge. I catch a bit of an accent in her voice, but can’t pinpoint it.

  “How long have you known Marc?” I ask, knowing it’s nosy, but wanting more information about the mysterious woman who has Marc acting so mysterious himself.

  She turns and faces me. Her long, shiny black hair falls over her shoulder as she moves.

  “A while,” she answers with a grin.

  Thalia turns back to the fridge and starts pulling Gatorade out.

  “Oh. I didn’t know he was dating anybody.”

  After closing the refrigerator, she walks to the counter, and leans her left hip on it. She scrutinizes me for just a moment before speaking.

  “I like you.”

  I give her a small smile. “Thanks,” I say it almost like it’s a question.

  She laughs. “You’re trying to get more information on the girl nobody knows about. I understand that.”

  “Oh. Um.”

  “I’m not a bad person, Emilie. Marc likes to keep things private, that’s all. You and your friends don’t have anything to worry about. Believe me; Marc knows how to handle himself.”

  Thalia smiles when she talks about Marc, like a woman in love. I give her a small nod and smile.

  “It was nice meeting you, Emilie,” she says as she readjusts the bottles of Gatorade in her arms. “I hope to get to see you again. Maybe when I’m not so exposed, huh?” She looks down at her bare legs and back up to give me a mischievous grin.

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” I respond.

  I notice that she has three bottles of Gatorade in her arms. My brows scrunch up briefly when I see them.

  “Electrolytes. Good for you, yes?” she asks, the slight accent slipping off her tongue.

  My eyebrows rise when I get what she’s saying. “Ah. Yes. Good for replenishing after you uhh, exert yourself.”

  She giggles before turning and walking out. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting! Talk soon, Emilie.”

  I don’t respond, because she’s already out of site, but also because I’m trying to determine if she said, can’t keep him waiting, or them waiting.

  Three bottles for three people? Makes sense.

  Interesting.

  After I left Troy’s house, I felt like a big weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. He knows everything, and is still willing to talk to me. I couldn’t be happier. I vow to never lie to him again after we get back together, because I know we’re getting back together.

  Okay, maybe I lied when I asked if he and Emilie weren’t together anymore. I already knew that, because I had been there watching them that day on the street. I overheard their fight, and knew I had finally succeeded.

  It killed me to wait a few days before going over there, but I had to. I couldn’t very well show up to his house the same day. That would be crazy.

  I spotted Emilie a few times, and she looked worse and worse every time I saw her. Poor girl never had a chance against me.

  The plan to go to her house today was purely for fun, for me. I know after Troy and I get back together, she won’t be anything I’ll have to worry about, but I wanted her to know that she lost. I wanted her to know that he still chose me, even after everything. That’s how strong our love is, that’s how little she meant to him. She deserves me twisting the metaphorical knife a little bit. After all she said about me and after almost ruining my chances at being with Troy, she needs to feel a fraction of the pain I felt being without him.

  I was going to put the note on her door, just like I did the last note and pictures. Which, I’m pretty sure is what set their breakup in motion. Troy probably saw our picture and remembered all the good times. He remembered proposing to me, and telling me I was his everything. He knew then that Emilie would never compete.

  However, when I arrived to her house, I noticed her curtains were open, so I decided to peek inside and see if she was home. I wanted to be able to tell her in person, and see the look on her face when her heart broke.

  When I had looked in the window, I saw what I thought was a man’s jacket on her bed. I had to see if it was Troy’s. I had to make sure she didn’t have any of his belongings anymore. I’d be damned if I allowed her to keep any part of him.

  Luckily, when I tested the window, it was unlocked. Stupid girl. I quickly climbed inside before anybody came around. When I got to the bed, I realized that it was not a man’s jacket, but one of her own coats.

  Considering I was already inside, I made my way through the house, remembering the last time I was in here. It’s too bad I didn’t accomplish what I had wanted that night. Turns out that I didn’t need to kill her, anyway. I must say, it feels better knowing Troy chose me over her, rather than only being with me because she died.

  After I looked for anything that could belong to Troy, and came up empty handed, I spotted her keys on the table. I figure this will be my last hoorah. Just one last thing to freak her out, and get her shook up.

  Because she’ll find my note, once she finds her keys are missing, she’ll assume right away that it was me. I smile imagining her panicking, thinking that I’m coming back to get her. I only wish I could see the fear in her face.

  I put the keys in my pocket, and left though the open window. After I got outside, I made sure to leave it open enough that she’ll know to come close it, and so that she’ll find the note. I think it will freak her out even more knowing I easily came through her bedroom window, and that she could have been there asleep.

  Hurrying to the rental car, I got in and leaned over to grab my purse, so I could drop her keys inside. I needed to get back to the shitty, cheap motel I’m staying at, and come up with a plan that will get Troy to agree to move from Vegas.

  Even if he forgives me, the cops don’t, and I know they’re looking for me. I won’t be able to stay here for very much longer, but Troy needs to come with me. I’m sure he can find a job anywhere, with the education he has.

  As I was driving down the road, a movement caught my attention. As luck would have it, Emilie was standing there, watching me drive by. Since I had already did what I wanted to do by leaving her the note
, and giving her the gift of fear when she finds her keys are missing, I decide to just smile and wink at her.

  Driving further down the road, I saw her in my rearview mirror, run towards her apartment as fast as she could and I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face.

  But now, here I am, back on her street waiting to see if she’ll call Troy. I didn’t think about it until now that she might try to use this to get him back. If Troy finds out I came back here, he may not forgive me. I wish I had a phone to use to call him and make sure he is still at home, but I gave up phones when the cops started looking for me.

  After a while, a white car pulls up in front of her place, and a man gets out. As he makes his way up the walkway and towards the apartment complex, I slowly move my car forward, leaving the lights off. Creeping up behind his car, I watch as the tall, blonde man goes to her door.

  I wonder who that could be. Maybe I should let it slip to Troy that she has a man already visiting her at night. I guarantee that’ll really put the nail in her coffin. However, I don’t know how I’m supposed to let him know without giving away that I was near her house.

  After he enters her apartment, I move my car back to where it’s hidden and wait. A while later, they both come out and drive away together in his car.

  I guess I didn’t have to worry about her calling Troy, after all. Seems she’s got somebody to keep her company.

  Not bothering to follow them, I drive away and head back to the motel. I’m meeting Troy tomorrow, and I want to make sure I look my best for our new beginning, and I need to pick out what I’m going to wear. I may even show up early to surprise him.

  As soon as I wake up, I shower and get dressed as quickly as possible. I slept in a little later than I wanted to, because I forgot to set my alarm last night. It’s nine-thirty, and the officers I spoke to last night regarding Emilie’s case said they’d be here a little before eleven, just to get set up.

  They also said that if I insisted Emilie not be here, that they’d have to call her in to the station to identify Carla as her attacker. I only don’t want her here, because it’s going to take too much time to even get her to accept my calls, and then to fully explain my plan. She might not believe me at first. She might yell and cuss, and hang up on me several times before allowing herself to hear what I have to say.

  She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out my breaking up with her was only because I knew Carla was following us. I planned on her doing just that, and she needed to hear us breakup. She had to really believe that we were over, so she’d leave her alone. Plus, I knew she’d come to me. I knew I was the only one who could lure her into a trap.

  Emilie can be pissed all she wants, but I did this for her, and she’ll come to realize that. She’ll have to understand that it was the only way.

  Right as I pull the carton of eggs out of the fridge, my doorbell chimes. I look to the clock to make sure it’s not later than I thought. The cops shouldn’t be here yet.

  When I open the door, my heart plummets as I see Carla on my porch. She was facing away, but when she heard the door open, she turned and gave me a hopeful smile.

  “I know I’m early, but I couldn’t wait to see you,” she says with a small shrug.

  Fuck. She can’t be here now. The cops were supposed to arrive first.

  “Well, I wish you would have waited,” I say, trying not to lose my temper. “I was about to make breakfast.”

  “Oh,” she says softly, looking down. “Well, I can make it for you.” She instantly brightens up and grins at me.

  I grind my teeth, swallowing the words I really want to say to her. “Come on in. I gotta make a call real quick though.”

  “Okay.”

  She instantly makes her way to the kitchen and spots the eggs on the counter. “Scrambled? Do you want bacon?”

  “Uh. Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

  She waves me off and starts cooking like she’s been living here forever. Fuck. I hate having her in here, but soon enough I won’t have to worry about her ever again. I’ll finally be able to tell her how I really feel about her, but I have to make sure she is in custody first. I can’t risk her finding out what I’m planning on doing and running away.

  I walk all the to my room and into my walk-in closet, just to make sure I’m as far away from as possible as I make this call.

  After a couple rings, Detective Johnson picks up the phone.

  “Detective Johnson,” he answers in a bored, monotone voice.

  “Detective, it’s Troy Thompson,” I say as quietly as I can.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, we have a bit of a problem with the initial plan.”

  “What’s that?” he asks and I can tell he’s getting more interested.

  I look out the closet door and make sure she hasn’t made her way back here. “She came early.”

  “What? The suspect?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s there now?”

  “Yeah.”

  He’s quiet for a minute. “Well, I suppose we can still move in. Will she be able to see us if we come from the front? We don’t want to risk her doing anything that can cause anybody or herself any harm.”

  “I have a two story arched window in my living room. You can pretty much see everything.”

  “Shit. Okay. What about the back?”

  “You’ll have to jump the fence, and make your way around the pool. There’s a sliding glass door that you can come in from. I’ll make sure it’s unlocked and that the curtains are closed.”

  “Alright.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “See you soon.”

  He hangs up and I put the phone in my pocket and leave the closet. When I walk out of my bedroom door, Carla is right there.

  “I was just coming to see if you wanted toast.”

  I eye her wearily. “I told you I had a call to make.”

  “I know, but I just wanted to have it all done for you.”

  I huff and walk past her, heading to the kitchen. She’s quiet for a while and I can’t help but wonder if she was there for a while. Was she able to hear my side of the conversation? Would she put it together? Fuck.

  Two plates of eggs and bacon are set up on the table in the kitchen. I cringe just thinking about sitting next to her and eating together. I keep repeating that this will all be over soon. I’ll be able to be back with Emilie, and all will be right again.

  As I begin eating my food, I feel Carla’s eyes on me, yet she isn’t saying anything. I look over at her and raise my brows.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you changing your mind about what you said to me last night?”

  Shit. I guess my attitude isn’t helping. “No. I’m just tired and hungry, and I can feel you burning holes into the side of my face.”

  “Oh okay. I was hoping you weren’t thinking about giving it a go with Emilie again. You’d be highly disappointed,” she says with a small laugh.

  I drop the fork on my plate and turn in my seat to glare at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh,” she says looking up from her food. “I just happened to see her driving with another man. They seemed friendly.”

  Anger and jealousy flares through my body. “How did you happen to see them?” I ask through gritted teeth. “And what do you mean by friendly?”

  She stops eating and turns to look at me. A small scowl mars her face. “Why do you seem so upset that she’s with someone? You aren’t together, and you both are moving on.”

  “Will you please just answer the question? Honesty, remember?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so concerned with her still, but I’ll tell you just to prove to you that I am being honest with you from now on.”

  She places her fork down on a napkin next to her plate, and positions her body to face me.

  “Now don’t get mad. I’m just being honest. I was in her neighborhood last night, and only wanted to make sure you weren’t there. I had to be sure yo
u two were over. I promise I had no plans to do anything to her. Anyway, as I was on the road, a white car pulled up and a man went to her door. A little later they both came out, the man was holding an overnight bag, and they left in his car. He was pretty handsome too.”

  She finishes with a smile and then turns to continue her meal. My hand shoots out and grabs her wrist. The fork falls and she shoots me a look that’s between angry and worried.

  “What are you doing?” she demands.

  “You shouldn’t have been in her neighborhood for one. I told you we were done and that’s that. You should have taken my word for it.”

  “I know. I’m sor-”

  I cut her off. “And for two, she left with an overnight bag with another man? Is that the truth or are you just trying to fuck with me?”

  She snatches her hand from mine. “I wouldn’t fuck with you, Troy. He was tall, blonde, well-dressed, and drove a white BMW. Now, stop worrying about it. She’s moved on with him, and me and you are starting over. Everybody can be happy.”

  “A white BMW? You sure?” I demand.

  “Yep,” she answers as she shoves a forkful of food in her mouth.

  The only man that fits that description is Marc. Why the fuck would she have Marc going to her house at night, and why the fuck would he be carrying an overnight bag for her?

  I slam my fists on the table, rattling the dishes.

  “She’s probably still over at his house. I’m sure she spent the night,” Carla says with a fucking smirk on her face.

  I want to reach over and strangle her. She’s doing this on purpose, but I can’t seem to control my anger. Just thinking about Emilie with somebody else sets my blood on fire. Thinking about her with a friend of mine, a man I consider family, makes me want to hurt somebody.

  There’s no way I could take her back if she was fucking somebody else already. Especially Marc. What the fuck are they thinking? Marc doesn’t know we broke up, because I never told him. I didn’t tell anybody, because I didn’t to risk my plan getting back to Emilie. I needed to be the one who told her, and she needed to stay away from me, in case Carla was watching. So, unless she told him, he would have to assume we were together. But why the fuck are they talking anyway?