The Secrets of Their Souls

by Brooke Sivendra

  “Oh, God!” Zahra said, manically pulling the photographs out. Desolation seeped into her veins as she shuffled them through her hands. There were so many—it was like an album of horrors. She stuffed them back into the envelope and stuffed that into her handbag. Don’t cry, she told herself, don’t cry, not in the office. And don’t vomit. She stood up and somehow managed to make it to the bathroom before she lost her lunch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - JAYCE

  His impending dinner date lifted his mood to a state he had not been in all week: happy. It had been the negotiation of his life, but somehow he’d convinced her to give him another shot and he vowed from that moment forward that he would never lie to her again. Nor would he play any mind games. He would be the man she deserved.

  Zahra Foster: I have to go by Church St this evening. Message me the details of the restaurant and I’ll meet you there. Xo

  He felt a tinge of disappointment upon reading her message. He’d wanted them to leave Mason together, and he wanted to spend every possible minute with her tonight, but he brushed it aside—if anyone understood work commitments it was him, and her ambition was one of the things he loved about her.

  Jayce had booked a new restaurant in town with booth seating to give them some privacy. He wanted to take her out to celebrate their new beginning, but he also wanted her to himself. If Church Street hadn’t been days away from completion, he would have canceled his entire afternoon and taken her home. But that was not his life, and he had responsibilities he had to honor and a deadline to meet. He looked at his watch: three hours until dinner.

  *

  Jayce ordered a bottle of champagne as he waited for her to arrive. She was late.

  “I’m sorry, I got stuck at Church Street,” Zahra said, rushing up to the table.

  “It’s fine,” Jayce said, standing up to kiss her. He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her.

  “Hey,” she said, pushing him back playfully, “we’re in a restaurant.”

  “I’m making up for the past week,” Jayce said and chuckled.

  An odd look passed over her face but she sat down opposite him and smiled, so he didn’t give it another thought. “Are we celebrating?” She eyed the champagne bottle.

  “Yes, we are,” Jayce said as the waiter came over and poured two glasses. He nodded his head in thank you and the waiter left them. “I think we should toast to a fresh start.”

  She nodded and took a sip. “I do want to apologize specifically for asking you to leave on Saturday night. I feel really bad about it.” She frowned and Jayce brought her hand to his lips, wishing she’d sat beside him.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” he said. “It’s over with now.”

  “I know, but I still feel bad. What did you do? Did you go straight home?”

  He cleared his throat. “No, I walked for a while. I have no idea how long for. And then I called Kyoji. I went to a new club he owns. I was really upset, so I wanted to have a few drinks and numb the pain.”

  She smiled sadly. “Did it work?”

  “Mostly it gave me a hell of a hangover.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “How much did you drink?”

  Jayce sighed. “Way too much. If I don’t see another bottle of whisky in my life, it will still be too soon.”

  She chuckled and took another sip. “So what did you and Kyoji do? I didn’t realize he was in town.”

  “He’s been staying at my apartment for a few weeks now—on business. I didn’t mention it before because Kyoji likes to keep his whereabouts very private. We didn’t do much. We sat in his office, drinking, mostly.” Why is she asking so many questions? Jayce’s heart rate increased a little.

  She wet her lips. “And then you went home after the club?”

  “I don’t remember getting home, but yes, I believe that’s correct.” Jayce felt like he was being interrogated.

  She looked into his eyes, searching them. “Is there anything else about that night that you would like to tell me?”

  His heart stopped. She knows, she has to. But how can she? His throat constricted.

  “Jayce?” The veil she had masked her anger with had been lifted.

  Fuck! Jayce thought. I’m going to lose her again.

  “You have a really hard time being honest, don’t you?” Zahra said.

  If looks could kill, I’d be burning in hell right now, he thought. “Zahra, please—”

  “Don’t ‘Zahra, please’ me,” she said, abhorrence impaling her words. She leaned over and pulled an envelope out of her bag and slid it toward him.

  His shaky hands fumbled, but he managed to open it. Photograph after photograph of him and Rebecca in the private room—naked and fucking. Shame gripped him and wrapped its chains around his neck. He hung his head in his hands.

  “How long has that been going on?” Zahra asked.

  “What? No! It was just that one night, I swear to God,” Jayce said. The fuckers had even dated the photographs.

  “So was this to punish me, too? Or is this just how you deal with things?”

  “This was… It was just a drunken mistake. You kicked me out and told me you couldn’t do this and I thought we were over. I was heartbroken. I just wanted to forget about you, to forget about the pain. I’m not using that as an excuse and I know it was wrong, but that’s how I felt at the time.”

  She stood up. “Goodbye, Jayce,” Zahra said and walked out.

  He let her go, fixated in his grief and self-loathing. I should have told her about Rebecca, Jayce thought. She should never have found out by seeing these photographs. She should never have fucking received these vulgar photos. So much for their fresh start. Fuck!

  Jayce looked at the envelope again and shook his head; he couldn’t let her go, not without another fight. He threw two bills down on the table, picked up the envelope and ran out of the restaurant. He looked up and down the street and saw her two blocks away, presumably waiting for a taxi. He sprinted in her direction, his body driven by desperation.

  “Zahra!” he called out and she turned away when she saw him. She started walking, but he just ran faster until he was beside her.

  “Leave me alone.” She crossed her arms over her chest and increased her pace.

  “Stop, please. Just let me explain.” He had to stop her, he couldn’t let her go again. “Please, I am begging you, just hear me out.”

  She came to a halt and there was fire in her eyes. “I’ve done that once already and you told me that you would show me who you really are. Thank you, now I know and I want nothing to do with you. While I was at home, devastated and trying to think through every possibility of how we could fix this, you were out partying and fucking another woman. At the very least you should have told me about her, if we were going to try and start over!”

  She was yelling at him in the street, but he didn’t care. As long as she wasn’t walking away from him, he still had a microscopic chance. “If I had told you, would you have given me another chance?”

  She shook her head furiously and started walking.

  “Exactly.” He followed her. “I didn’t tell you for the same reason you didn’t tell me about the dreams—I was terrified of losing you. If I could take this back, I would, because it meant nothing. I barely remember it, but I do remember looking at her and wishing she was you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “No, I’m just trying to be honest about it. I love you and I will do anything for you, so please don’t walk away.”

  “This is done, we are done. We are not meant to be together. Look at how much pain we cause each other. I don’t know why we came together again but it was not for a happy reunion! Now get out of my way!” she said.

  “No, you’re not leaving. I can’t live without you. Don’t do this, don’t walk away.” She was slipping away from him and he grabbed her arm in a doomed attempt to keep her.

  “Get your fucking hands off of me!” Zahra scream
ed and pushed him away. She ran from him and straight out into the street. He heard the screeching brakes before her body bounced off the car hood and onto the ground.

  Terror asphyxiated him as he looked at her motionless body. No! He rushed to her side and tried to rouse her, but she didn’t respond. “Call an ambulance—someone call an ambulance!” Jayce screamed. Blood gushed from a wound on her forehead and he took off his jacket, holding it to her head to stop the bleeding. He tried to remember what little first aid he could, but his mind was in a state of panic. He checked her pulse—she had one. He checked that she was breathing—she was; tiny, shallow breaths. “Zahra, wake up. Please wake up.” He spoke to her over and over again, but her eyes stayed closed.

  What is taking the ambulance so long? Jayce looked up and down the street. A crowd had gathered around, but no one stepped forward to help her. She needed help and he had never felt more helpless. This was his fault; she ran out into the road blindly to get away from him because he couldn’t let her go. His hand was covered in blood, blood that had soaked through his jacket. Please, God, let her be okay, Jayce prayed.

  Finally, he heard the distant, wailing sirens. Help was on the way.

  *

  “Mr. Tohmatsu?” A woman in a white coat and red-framed glasses stood with her hand out.

  Jayce shook her hand. “Yes. How is she?”

  “So far so good. She has a broken arm, a grade-three concussion and a few stitches in her forehead. At this point her neurological results are as expected, given her injuries, but we will have to do more testing when she wakes up. I’ll take you through to see her now.” Jayce followed the doctor into Zahra’s room, but he could barely bring himself to look at her. She was as pale as the white bed sheets, and the only indication that her heart was beating was the monitor she was hooked up to. He was scared to touch her and he knew that if she were awake, she wouldn’t want him to. He went back out into the hallway.

  *

  “I came as quickly as I could. How is she?” Kyoji asked, opening the door and peering inside. He pulled his lips to one side. “Yeah, not good. What have the doctors said?”

  “Tests are okay, but they won’t know for sure until she wakes up. I thought for a second that she was dead, that I had inadvertently settled the debt. There was so much blood, Kyoji, her head just kept bleeding and bleeding.”

  “Yeah, but even shallow head wounds bleed like motherfuckers.”

  “I keep thinking about that friend of Aoto’s, you know the one who had that bike accident and woke up with amnesia and had problems for years after. If she wakes and she’s not the same…” Jayce looked away, unable to even say the words.

  “I’ve seen plenty of bad concussions and they generally wake up with a killer headache and a bit of confusion. Aoto’s friend was just unlucky. I’m sure she’s going to be fine, Jayce. What the hell were you two fighting about, anyway?”

  Jayce shoved the envelope against his chest. “This. How the fuck did someone get these?”

  Kyoji’s eyes widened as he looked over the contents of the envelope. “Fuck me! These are from the club!”

  “I know that. How did this happen, Kyoji?” Jayce knew it wasn’t Kyoji’s fault, but it was his club.

  He flipped the envelope over. “Someone sent these to Zahra? Ah, fuck. When did she give them to you?”

  “Yes, someone fucking sent them to her. I saw her this morning and she was fine, she even agreed to give me another chance. When I saw her at dinner, though, she was not fine and she had them in her bag so she must have received them in today’s mail.”

  Kyoji pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe this happened in my fucking club. Someone is going to fucking die for this.” He pulled the photographs out again. “Look at the angle—they were all taken from the door. Look, Jayce, I haven’t said anything because I didn’t think it concerned you, but I’ve noticed a few weird things lately and I think I’m being watched. Judging from this, you are too. I’m going to call in a favor, someone who will get to the bottom of this.” He ran his thumb over the postage stamp. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that she received these today, just after the two of you had patched things up? Where did you speak to her?”

  “In my office. What are you saying? You think it’s bugged? Jesus, if someone has been listening to my conversations, they have profit numbers, Tohmatsu strategies… Oh, my fucking God!” Jayce started pacing.

  “We don’t know yet, okay, but these photographs were taken nearly a week ago and she only received them today. Why the delay?” He looked closely at the stamp again. “It’s dated yesterday, but it could be forged easily enough. Listen, let me deal with this. The guy I’m going to call is really fucking good and his team moves fast. Don’t use your phone and don’t talk in your office until I give you the all clear. How long are you staying here?”

  “Just until Zahra’s sister arrives… ten more minutes, maybe. I don’t want to be here when she wakes up. I’m the last person she will want to see.”

  Kyoji sighed. “I’m sorry, Jayce. These photographs should never have been taken.” He pulled his phone out and dialed a number. “Go to Mason when you leave here. I’ll meet you there in two hours.” He turned and walked away, passing Jemma in the corridor.

  Jemma spotted Jayce and rushed to him. “What happened?”

  “She stepped out onto the street and the car didn’t have time to stop. The doctors have done some testing, and they will need to do some more when she wakes up, but they think she’s going to be fine,” Jayce said, praying that wasn’t another lie.

  Jemma looked at him in disbelief. “She stepped out in front of a car??”

  Jayce swallowed. “We were having an argument. It’s my fault, Jemma. I’m sorry, it was an accident.”

  Jemma’s eyes narrowed at him and she looked a lot like Zahra when she was mad. “What did you do to her? What were you fighting about?”

  Jayce shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t tell her. “You’ll need to ask Zahra that when she wakes up. Please…” he said and opened the door, “go and sit with her. She needs you. I’m going to leave, but just message me when she’s awake so that I know. Whatever time she needs off is fine, and you can take the time off, too, to look after her. I’m sorry, Jemma, this should never have happened.” Jayce took a deep breath and took one last look at the woman he loved, the woman he would love for all eternity.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – ZAHRA

  Things that fall apart can never be put back together. We can try, and we do, but the cracks will always be there no matter how good a craftsman we are. But how we perceive those cracks is our choice, and we always have a choice. Our actions are a reflection of our choices, and if we take no action, even that is a choice. We can view our cracks as life’s scars, of battles neither lost nor won, because there is never a winner in war. Whether a faint, feathery line or a jagged, puckering track, our scars bear the secrets of our souls.

  They made so many mistakes, so many choices that would ultimately hurt them both. Zahra didn’t blame Jayce, not entirely, for she, too, had made mistakes. Raven had acted irrationally and had killed her lover—an act that was the catalyst for future events. If they could have been more honest about their past, perhaps, just maybe, they could’ve veered north to a higher ground above the oceans of deceit. But ‘should have’ and ‘could have’ were of no help now. They had chosen badly and it had ended badly. And they were both responsible for their choices.

  Zahra held her plastered arm to her waist and rose from the couch. She needed to get Jemma out of her apartment so that she could be alone. “Jemma, you need to go to work.”

  “I’m going to work from your home office,” she said, leaning her elbow on the dining table. She wasn’t budging. “The doctor said you need to have someone with you for the weekend, Zahra. I’m not leaving, and seeing as you talked Mom and Dad out of coming to stay, I’m responsible for you. Anyway, Jayce said I could take as much time off as you need.”


  Zahra didn’t have the energy to argue with her sister and she didn’t want to talk about Jayce. “Fine,” she muttered as she picked up the box of meds her doctor had prescribed for her thumping head, taking a glass of water to her bedroom and closing the door firmly behind her. Zahra just wanted to be alone, with no one to witness her break down. Her injuries, her visible scars, caused her little pain compared to the ones inside. Those scars were unbearable, like shards of glass brushing against her heart, piercing her with each beat. And the only one that she wanted to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be okay, was the one person who couldn’t.

  Zahra curled up in bed, pulling the duvet over her ears, and let herself shed the tears that she had hidden from the doctors, and the tears she had hidden from Jemma. They fell freely now, soaking her pillow, the wet cotton suctioning to her cheek. Why did love have to be so painful?

  Zahra reached for her phone and opened his email—the only contact she’d had with him.

  Dear Zahra,

  I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for what has transpired over the course of our relationship, and particularly over the course of the past week. It breaks my heart that the person I love so much is the same person I have caused so much pain.

  I keep asking myself why we found each other again in this lifetime. What purpose does it serve if, like you said, we just continue to hurt each other? I don’t know but I have learned I cannot force our fate—I knew about our past and I knew that you knew and it was my responsibility to be open with you instead of trying to force it from you. If I had done that, our future might have been very different. This is my fault and I have to live with the consequences and the knowledge that I destroyed the greatest gift I have ever been given—you.

  Please don’t leave Mason, not because of me. If I could leave, I would, to spare you more pain. I have considered every option and whether I could run it remotely from Tokyo but I can’t, I need to be there. I have hurt you so much already so please don’t sacrifice a job you love because of me. I won’t contact you again. I will arrive earlier and leave late and conduct site inspections at sunrise and sundown. You will barely know I exist.