Then There Was You (Twist of Fate)

by A. J. Daniels

  “Um…” I shuffle from one foot to the other, avoiding meeting his gaze. “Six… seven months.”

  “Do you love him?”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “You can’t ask me shit like that, Jack. I thought you were dead. D-E-A-D. Dead. We had a funeral. I watched them lower your coffin into the damn ground. So, you can’t stand there pissed off that I somehow managed to move on two years after your death!” It’s not until Jack gathers me in his arms that I realize not only was I yelling at him but there are tears streaming down my face.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” He soothes, running a hand up and down my back in the way he knows calms me down.

  “This is all too much, Jack. I don’t know what to do,” I sob into his chest, my fingers curling around the fabric of his t-shirt.

  “I can leave. Go get a hotel and let you have a few days to get your mind wrapped around everything.”

  Just the thought of watching him walk through the door again with no idea if he’ll come back this time, has my heart beating faster. I curl into him more, tightening my fist in his shirt. “Don’t leave,” I whisper.

  Jack grips my shoulders and pushes me away until he can see my eyes. “This has been a lot for you to take in, Nika. I can see how overwhelming it would be to suddenly be faced with the reality that the husband you thought had died is actually still alive. You need time to process and I’m not sure if having me stay here will allow you to do anything you need to.”

  “But I just got you back.” I’m acutely aware of how whiney I sound but I don’t care. My world was just flipped on its head for the second time in as many years.

  “I won’t be far. There’s an Airbnb close to Muizenberg Beach. I can crash there for a few days then when you’re ready, we can talk and see if we can work all of this out.”

  “But you don’t know the city,” I say, trying to get him to change his mind.

  Jack grins like he knows exactly what I’m trying to do, and I guess he does, seeing as how we have been together since we were kids. “When you’ve had time to process all this maybe you can show me around. Take me to all your favourite places as a kid.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  Jack dips his chin in approval. “Can you give me a ride to the Airbnb? I’ve seen your taxis here and…” he shivers, “I’d like to make it there in one piece.”

  I laugh. “Good call. The locals are usually the only ones taking the taxis and even then it’s sketchy.”

  “Is that even legal? The one I saw was so overcrowded. There were people hanging out the windows.”

  I lift a shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m not entirely sure, and if it’s not then they don’t give a fok. The more people, the more money.”

  I walk over to the dining room table to grab the car keys while Jack fetches his bag.

  “Have you ever ridden in one?” he asks.

  “Once.” I turn to lock the front door behind us. “When I was little, my dad and I took a taxi. I can’t remember why or where we were coming from but I’m pretty sure that was the first and last time my dad ever took one with me or otherwise.”

  Jack shakes his head in disbelief as he attempts to get in on the driver’s side. I smirk at the confused look on his face when I stop beside him.

  “You plan on driving?” I ask with an eyebrow raised.

  He tilts his head in question, not sure what I mean until he catches a glance at the steering wheel through the window.

  He barks out a laugh as he moves in front of the car to the passenger side. “I’m going to be doing that a lot here, aren’t I?”

  “Yup, pretty much,” I say with a grin, starting up the car.

  “You guys couldn’t have made it easy and put the steering wheel on the left side like the rest of us?” he jokes.

  “And where would the fun in that be? I mean, if it had been on the left-hand side then I would’ve missed moments like this.”

  “That sass is going to get you in trouble one day.”

  Jack and I fall back into an easy flow of conversation while we drive closer to the Airbnb. It begins feeling almost… normal. Like we haven’t stopped being a couple. But the more comfortable it becomes, the more guilt I begin to feel.

  Guilt that I shouldn’t be feeling this comfortable around a guy that isn’t Nate. Then guilt that I shouldn’t be feeling guilty because Jack is my husband. Oh man, this is getting a shit-ton more complicated as the days go on.

  As we get closer to the beach and the strip of road with the Airbnb, I roll down my window and inhale a lung full of salty ocean air, immediately feeling my body relax. All the guilt and uncertainty is washed out with every inhale. This is where I have always belonged. At the beach.

  Once I have dropped Jack off at his Airbnb with a promise to call him on his temporary Cape Town number, I pull into the parking lot of the beach down the road, ditch my flip-flops in the back seat of the car, and take off down the sandy path to the shore.

  Despite the windy day, there are still quite a few people lounging on their towels on the beach with their umbrellas anchored in the sand to keep them out of the sun. That’s the thing about Cape Town, it can be an overcast day like today, but spend enough time outside and you can still end up with a nasty sunburn. Trust me, I know. It’s happened to me on more than one occasion.

  I dodge kids running back and forth from the tide and the sandcastles they’re building, as well as a couple walking their dog, and a group of guys playing frisbee. As I zigzag between all of them, I wonder how they can all go about their lives as carefree as they are while completely ignoring the fact that my heart is in a vice while simultaneously being ripped in two. I’ll enviably hurt one of the men I love. There’s no way around that.

  I sigh, kicking at a random rock buried in the sand while fighting the growing urge to pack up and take off for a week… or two. I’m not a child anymore, though, and my problems won’t solve themselves. This isn’t something I can simply run from. Or have my parents take care of, no matter how tempting that sounds.

  When I come to the colourful changing rooms along the beach, a woman catches my eye, sitting by herself on a beach chair, her sunglasses perched on her nose as she reads a book. There’s no ring on her finger as far as I can see from where I’m standing and there doesn’t appear to be anyone with her. She’s looks so at peace, and for a brief moment I envy her.

  What if.

  What if I don’t choose either of them? What if I focus on myself and put me first? I stop at one of the cafés across from the beach while I allow myself to ponder it for several minutes.

  Ever since I was old enough to date, it had always been Jack. After he died, I stayed single for two years but I didn’t focus on myself. I was just trying to get from day to day without the man I had relied on for half my life. Then there was Nate. Did I even really know myself as an individual?

  I shake my head again as the guy behind the register places my iced coffee on the counter. It’s a ridiculous thought. Of course, I knew myself. Didn’t I?

  * * *

  The house is eerily quiet when I push open the front door and deposit my keys and purse on the entryway table. After I kick out of my flip-flops I make a beeline for the kitchen and the bottle of red wine that has been waiting for me. I sigh with relief at that first sip, some of the tension already melting away.

  My FaceTime rings just as I’m sitting down at the dining table and open the lid of my MacBook. My best friend’s concerned face stares back at me when I accept the call.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks, Londyn. Nice to see you too, asshole.”

  Londyn grimaces. “Sorry, habit. How are you holding up?”

  I shrug and take a long sip of the Two Oceans Shiraz. It isn’t my wine of choice, but it was free courtesy of my mom.

  “That well, huh?” Londyn asks.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Londyn? Jack says you knew. That’s how he found out I wasn’t in Florida anymore.” I ca
n’t keep it in anymore. The fact that Londyn had known that Jack wasn’t really dead, had talked to him, told him where I was but never bothered to give me a heads-up, isn’t sitting well with me. She’s supposed to be my best friend, supposed to have my back. So why not in this?

  Londyn’s eyes water and her lip begins to tremble when she responds. “He asked me not to, Annika. God, I wanted to. I really did, please believe that. But he said it was something that should be done in person.”

  I nod, realizing that I do believe her. This is too big for Londyn to willingly keep from me. I take another drink until there’s nothing left in the glass. Holding up a finger to tell Londyn to give me a second while I go refill the glass. On second thought, I grab the bottle and bring it back to the table with me. The tequila shots from the restaurant having worn off already.

  “How did my life get like this, Londyn?”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “I thought he was dead. I mean, they didn’t ask me to identify a body or anything, but they said the body had his tags. How could they screw that up? And now he’s here. Like, here in Cape Town. And then there’s Nate,” I rant to my best friend, realizing that I need to just unload everything that has happened in the last two days.

  “Did Jack say what happened? Where he had been for the last two years?”

  I pause, taking the time to think about it. “Yeah,” I say. “He said he was taken prisoner.”

  “Jesus,” Londyn says on a sharp exhale. “What are you going to do, Nika? Do you need me to come there?” Genuine concern mars her voice, and not for the first time I feel incredibly lucky that I have a best friend like Londyn.

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that. Tickets aren’t cheap and it’s a long trip. Plus, you have your job to think about.”

  She waves me off. “I haven’t taken a day off in two years, I have some vacation time owed to me. Plus, if I tell them it’s a family emergency they have to give me some time off. And don’t worry about the ticket or the long trip, you know I love travelling and I’d do anything for you, Nika. You’re my family.”

  I feel my eyes begin to well with tears and try to discretely wipe them away when a few decide to fall.

  “No. Nu-uh. None of that,” Londyn says, wagging her finger at the camera. “No crying.”

  “Sorry,” I sniff. “God, I’m such a mess.”

  “I think you’re allowed to be with everything you’ve found out in the last forty-eight hours. Where is Jack anyway?”

  “He thought I needed some time to myself so he’s staying at an Airbnb close to one of the beaches for a few days. What am I going to do Londyn? I don’t want to end things with Nate, but Jack is my husband and I’m pretty sure our marriage is still legal even if he has been dead for two years. But then I don’t know if I want to divorce Jack. I still love him so much and if this is an opportunity for us to be together again then I should take it, right? I mean, how often does one’s dead husband come back to life? But I can’t stand the thought of hurting Nate.”

  “You’re talking yourself in circles, babe. Why don’t you work on just processing the fact that Jack is back. Then, when I get there, we can figure out what it is you really want.” Her expression changes to one of weariness making me wonder what else she wants to say but isn’t.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s just a suggestion… but you’re allowed to choose yourself.” She continues on without giving me a chance to reply. “Listen, I managed to find a flight for three days from now flying out of Orlando. I won’t get there until the evening of the seventh, though. Will you be okay until then?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I should be.”

  “Good.” I watch as she goes about booking her flight online and when her eyes light up, I assume she got a good look at where her layovers will be. I’m proved right when she exclaims, “Paris! I get a layover in Paris!” Then her head ducks closer to the screen, leaving me with an up close and personal view of the top of her head since Londyn still has the old school webcams. “Oh darn! It’s barely a two-hour layover.”

  I laugh. “If I make it through this, I’ll go with you on that European trip you’ve been dreaming about since we were in high school.”

  Her head pops up and I have to hold back the giggle that threatens to come out when her eyes round like a cartoon character. “Really?!”

  “Hells yeah! We could even take the train from London to Paris. I’ve heard it’s pretty neat.”

  “Okay, flight is booked. Should I have booked a hotel too?”

  I scoff, “Really?”

  “What?” She holds up her hands, palms up in a shrug. “I don’t know if you plan to get busy while I’m there and I’d rather not hear my best friend’s sex noises… again, thank you very much.”

  “One time. You forget your best friend is sleeping on the floor one time.”

  Londyn shivers at the memory as I shake my head and take another sip of the wine realizing why it is I never indulge in red wine. The shit goes straight to my head. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. I go from zero to fucked up in less than two glasses. Eh, and the shots may not have worn off like I thought.

  “And anyway.” I stop and clear my throat when my words begin to slur already. “There will be no ‘getting busy’ until I figure out what the fudge to do.”

  Londyn laughs at my use of air quotes… or it could’ve have been my slurring, I’m not quite sure.

  “How many glasses of that have you had?”

  I glance from the empty glass to the screen and back again before I shrug. “Uh… no idea.” I’m pretty sure it was only two glasses but when I go to lift the bottle to pour more it’s surprisingly light for only missing two drinks. Huh, so maybe I did have way more than two.

  “Annika, you know you and red wine are not friends.” Londyn groans. “Am I going to have to call your mom to come babysit you until you sleep it off?”

  “What?” I shriek. Seeing my mom is the last thing I want right now. I mean, I get along with my parents really well but neither of them have seen me drunk, let alone drunk and going through a crisis. “No! I’m fine. I swear. I’m going for a nap after this so there’ll be no trouble getting into.”

  She snorts. “Will turning off your phone be happening too?”

  I tilt my head in confusion wondering why I should be turning off my phone when an image of me drunk texting during a house party our junior year comes crashing back. Oh, it had been bad… so bad. It was also the first big fight Jack and I had. He was furious and I thought he was going to end it between us for sure, but then he found out that the guy I was texting was gay, and he calmed down a bit. He still wasn’t happy that I was texting Leo about Jack and my sex life. I groan, resting my forehead in the palm of my hand. “So bad,” I murmured.

  Londyn laughs. “Yes, yes it was. But oh, so entertaining.”

  Without looking up I reply, “Phone’s definitely going off.” And then I give my best friend the finger which she proceeds to laugh off… and laugh and laugh.

  Chapter 14

  I had all the intentions in the world to do as I told Londyn; I would and turn off my phone. But see, drunk me doesn’t agree. Nooo, the bitch thinks now is the perfect time to message Nate. The only reason why I go along with the plan is because I don’t think he’ll be awake at oh… three o’clock in the morning. But surprise, surprise he is! Also, what the fuck is he doing that he’s awake at three a.m.?!

  Nate: Are you drunk?

  I giggle.

  Me: Nooooooo…..

  My phone rings, Nate’s handsome face smiling up at me from the screen. It’s a picture I had taken during one our trips to Dunes. He’d just looked up from getting out his wallet to pay the bill and the sun was at the perfect spot. It’s my favourite picture of him. I hit cancel.

  Nate: Answer the phone, Nika.

  Me: No. You’ll just tell me that we can’t be together.

  Nate: I’m coming over. Answer the door.

&n
bsp; Me: No. If I don’t want to hear your rejection over text what makes you think I want to hear it in person? You hurt me, Nate.

  Nate: Annika, baby.

  Me: You hurt me and I’m horny. Hurt and horny. You suck.

  I giggle again. No, that was me.

  Nate: Shit, babe. You can’t say shit like that.

  Me: Suck. Suuuuck.

  I reply just because I can, and I know it’ll get him all bothered. Good, then that’ll make two of us. I have no idea if he replies after that because as soon as I send the last text, the tequila shots and the bottle of wine I consumed by myself catch up with me. I pass out with my phone still gripped in my hand and resting on my belly.

  * * *

  “What the hell was that last night?” Nate asks, cornering me in the staff room at school the next morning.

  My head’s pounding like a sonofabitch, and I’m regretting the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed even while knowing it was a school night. I groan, popping a coffee pod into the machine and hitting start.

  “It was nothing,” I say, hoping he’ll drop it. When I woke up this morning and saw the texts we had exchanged last night, I naïvely hoped that Nate would forget about it or that he’d decide to not bring it up while we are at school, but I should’ve known that this is Nate and he isn’t the type of person to just ignore something. Plus, I wasn’t at my greatest last night. I inwardly cringe at the memory of the texts I sent him. So childish.

  Nate reaches out to grip my wrist, stopping me from removing my mug from the machine. I think he’s going to spin me around so that he can get a good look at my face when he tells me again that this thing between us needs to stop, that we can’t carry on. So, I’m surprised when he presses closer until I can feel the hard ridges of his front against my back, until my lower belly is sandwiched between the counter and Nate’s groin. He releases my wrist only to grip my hip in one of his big hands. I shiver when his fingers brush a strand of hair back from my neck. Nate leans in, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of my neck.

  “You have no idea how your words affected me, Annika,” he says, rotating his hips forward, pushing his growing erection into the curve of my ass. “I dreamt about sliding my cock into that sassy mouth, of how those full lips would look wrapped around me, of how you’d look on your knees while you looked up at me and sucked me deep.”