Every Step You Take: A Psychological Thriller

by Avery Lane

“No,” Sierra finally said, her voice wistful. She sighed. “They’re gone.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Riley replied, squeezing her eyes shut. She really wished she hadn’t asked.

  “I don’t miss them,” Sierra declared, stepping back out. She was dressed again in the t-shirt and jeans she had come in. Riley noticed that Sierra was wiping away tears. “So. Um. Subject change. Brighton told me that he told you about the miscarriage.”

  Riley’s eyes went wide. Perhaps Riley was unaccustomed to how new friends talked, but she was surprised by Sierra’s willingness to go so quickly from one uncomfortable topic to another.

  “I didn’t want to mention it…” Riley said. She wasn’t sure if Sierra telling her this meant she was supposed to acknowledge it. “I just thought we should focus on having a good day today.”

  “I was really looking forward to being a mom,” Sierra continued. “I wanted to do it right. You know, be the parent my parents weren’t.”

  “And you’re going to.” Riley approached Sierra carefully, reaching a hand out to touch Sierra gently on the arm. “It’s going to happen for you guys, I know it.”

  “I wish I could be as confident about it as you are,” Sierra smiled sadly. “But really, I just think I waited too long.”

  “Don’t say that, you’re only thirty-five,” Riley said, shaking her head. Sierra let out a bitter laugh.

  “Only? No. Thirty-five is considered a geriatric pregnancy,” Sierra scoffed. “Geriatric.”

  “Really?” Riley wrinkled her nose. Didn’t geriatric mean elderly? “Um. Well, I…” She didn’t know what to say. This was one of those topics that made her feel like she was walking through a field of landmines. “Would you consider…adopting?”

  Sierra’s brows furrowed.

  Shit, wrong thing to ask, Riley thought, immediately regretting continuing at all.

  A heavy silence hung between them.

  “I want my baby to be my blood,” Sierra finally said. “I think adoption is a wonderful thing, but it’s not what I had envisioned for myself.”

  “Blood relatives aren’t always all that great,” Riley replied. She hadn’t meant to extend the discomfort of the topic, but this was something Riley actually felt. So it came out. “When we have kids, we run the risk of them taking on the less favorable aspects of our family. It’s a crapshoot. It’s clear that we turned out nothing like our parents, but who knows about the next generation? Like our kids could turn out like our parents.”

  “She wouldn’t,” Sierra blinked, looking almost insulted. “She wouldn’t be like my parents, she would be like me. And Brighton.”

  “Oh, of course,” Riley said, shaking her head. Why was she so insistent on making things more awkward? “Of course she’d be like you two.”

  It was clear now that Sierra had imagined a very specific future for herself, right down to the fact that she’d have a daughter. Riley knew full well that life just never turned out the way you expect it sometimes. It was strange to her that a woman in her mid-thirties had yet to reconcile with that.

  To her relief, Allison had returned from the back office. She had previously left them to try on the dresses on their own while she fielded calls and emails. But sensing that they were wrapping up, she had thankfully come to check on them right at that very moment.

  As Allison and Sierra discussed the logistics and alterations of the chosen dress, Riley wandered the perimeter of the shop. Allison had decorated the walls with frame after frame of her clients’ dresses. They were all posed happily with their bridesmaids, their parents, their grooms.

  They were surrounded by picture after picture of happy families.

  Riley wondered if they were all as happy as they appeared or if they had just gotten their shit together for that one photo.

  “Do you ever think about what your children would be like?”

  Riley jumped, startled at the fact that Sierra had sidled up beside her. They were standing in front of a picture of a bride and her flower girl.

  “Not really,” Riley replied. She thought for awhile, wondering if she should give some canned answer or tell Sierra the truth. Considering how much Sierra had opened up to her, Riley figured it was only fair to tell her the truth. “My mother kind of scared me off giving birth. I know something bad happened when I was born. She had me two months early. She said it was complicated and everything was touch and go for awhile. When she’s being particularly overbearing, I remind myself that it was because she thought I was going to die the day I was born. And that it made her a little crazy. But I’m fine now. Healthy. Just, you know, maybe a little shorter than I was supposed to be.”

  There was a laser focus in Sierra’s eyes as they scanned Riley’s face. Her attention was wholly on her now. The smallest hint of a tear appeared in the corner of Sierra’s eyes and Riley couldn’t help but feel bad about all the tears she had seen between Sierra and Brighton. It didn’t feel right that she had bore witness to so much of their sadness.

  Sierra cupped Riley’s face in her hands, bending over slightly to look her in the eyes. Riley swallowed, frozen in surprise and confusion. Sierra’s mouth dropped open, wanting to speak. But nothing came out. She looked down for a moment, then looked back up to try again.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Sierra whispered. “And I’m so sorry to your mother. It must have been so hard for her to feel like she couldn’t protect you. She must have felt like it was her fault that this happened.”

  Riley had heard that many women felt guilty when they had miscarriages, as if they had any control over what happened. But she hadn’t expected to upset Sierra to this degree with her own story. Riley was sure that she couldn’t feel any more unsettled than she did in this moment, despite all the strange things that had happened to her in the last couple of weeks.

  She gulped, pulling her eyes from the intensity of Sierra’s stare.

  Sierra pulled away, wiping her eyes before pulling her hair up into an efficient looking topknot. Then she turned back towards Riley.

  “Okay, so now that we’ve both saturated this day with all this heavy duty emotional stuff, let’s end on a lighter note,” Sierra said. Her eyes were mischievous now, and her face had returned almost entirely to normal. As if none of that had happened at all.

  “How?” Riley asked, truly wondering if it was possible.

  “I want to meet Gabriel,” Sierra replied. “Let’s double date.”

  22

  Despite the culinary diversity of her city, Riley rarely ever had a chance to try something new. She and Evan never really went out to eat unless they were joining his friends somewhere and salmon sashimi was about as adventurous as she ever got. It was something she had always meant to get better about, especially when some of her clients inquired about more specific catering options. It made sense for Riley to get to know more, not just because of where she lived, but because it would greatly benefit how good she was at her job.

  So when Sierra declared that they’d be doing Ethiopian food for their double date, Riley’s eyes lit up.

  It was exactly the sort of thing that she’d hope Post-Evan Riley would do – casually go on a double date with a glamorous couple, eating foods that the old Riley would call “exotic” but the new Riley would just call dinner.

  The excitement was a bit funny to Riley. She knew that people her age in the city she lived in did this sort of thing regularly, but she had only ever been an observer of it all. Evan’s friends had always felt like Evan’s friends and not her own friends. They never treated her like an individual and was never included in group texts or any planning of their nights out. It was as if she was just an extension of Evan. Like she was just a mutant third arm of his or something.

  Consequently, Riley actually felt a dopamine rush after something as simple as sending Sierra a selfie of her date night outfit.

  Riley had bought a little back dress for the occasion – her first. It was that staple wardrobe piece she read about in magazines
for decades, but never got a chance to own. She opted for a simple one to start – sleeveless and knee-length with a scooped neckline. Then over that was a slate-colored denim jacket that served as a bridge between the way she used to dress and the way she hoped to dress in the future.

  When her phone dinged with Sierra’s text back, Riley had expected one of two things – a thumbs up or a thumbs down on her chosen outfit. But she got something a whole lot weirder.

  SIERRA: Love it. Just don’t forget underwear ;)

  Riley’s giddiness over all the girly aspects of date night was quickly replaced with confusion. What did Sierra mean by that?

  But as soon as she arrived at the restaurant, her question was answered.

  She was first met with a floor to ceiling cubby full of shoes. When the hostess informed Riley of their shoe-off policy, she lamented over the fact that she would have to remove the three-inch boost that her nude stilettos would give her. And only when she was taking them off did she notice the lack of chairs in the dining space.

  As Riley plodded barefoot around the seated patrons, she noticed the low wooden dining tables and colorful mats that looked like flat throw pillows. The diners were atop them, sitting cross-legged.

  Sierra and Brighton had reserved a corner nook. The carved out little section had dividers made of laser cut sheet metal with intricate designs that scattered the warm light into shapely star patterns onto the walls. An airy, saffron colored canopy hung above a low hanging stain glass lantern.

  Four little pillows surrounded the low set circular table and for once, Riley’s stature came in handy. She didn’t struggle to duck the lantern and maneuver her limbs to fit inside.

  Riley sat between Gabriel and Brighton, allowing Sierra the seat closest to the nook’s entrance where she could do all the ordering. Though Riley was pretty in love with her chosen outfit, she had kind of wished that Sierra just warned her about the seating so she would have had the chance to opt for pants. Or something like the gorgeous cream-colored jumper that Sierra had on.

  But her text back was probably meant to do just that and Riley’s lack of fluency in girl talk had her interpreting it literally.

  Riley was the only one who had never had Ethiopian food and she was glad that everyone had enough of an opinion on what to order that she could just nod at the descriptions that sounded vaguely familiar. She thumbed through the menu anyway, trying to look as engaged as everyone else did. But just the names of the dishes, everything from injera to wett looked so foreign to her – well beyond anything she had ever seen before.

  But in the company of Gabriel, Sierra, and Brighton, Riley felt exhilarated by all that she didn’t know, rather than scared.

  A heady, heavy fragrance of butter and spice hung in the air. And as soon as Sierra was done ordering, the server had come around with a bottle of honey wine for the table.

  As she sipped from her glass, Riley couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous her date looked tonight, despite the fact that his giant frame was forced to sit awkwardly at this tiny table. He was dressed in a fitted black t-shirt over a pair of black sweatpants that somehow looked city chic rather than like gym clothes. And unlike many men who seemed to struggle with sitting cross-legged, he looked perfectly comfortable. Like some bodybuilder yogi.

  Though Gabriel had thoroughly appreciated Riley’s outfit, his attention was now wholly on Sierra. And she couldn’t really blame him. Riley often found it hard to look away from Sierra. But there was something strange about his gaze that Riley couldn’t identify. What…exactly was he thinking?

  She had since learned that Gabriel was a straightforward man. Since that initial omission of truth, he had proved to be the type to speak his mind and simply be who he was. There was no façade, no pretense, no attempt to put up walls. At least as far as Riley could tell with her admittedly amateur abilities to read people.

  So she should’ve known she’d get an answer soon enough.

  “Sierra, I can’t tell if you’re confident or just a risk-taker,” Gabriel blurted out at the first chance he could. Sierra had just wrapped up some story she had about backpacking through Southeast Asia.

  “It’s not a risky area to travel in,” she shrugged. “Besides, I had Brighton with me.”

  “No, sorry,” Gabriel shook his head. “I was referring to the fact that you’re wearing white at an Ethiopian restaurant. Or any restaurant, at that.”

  “Oh!” Sierra laughed. She placed a hand on Brighton’s knee, looking over at him as if he had the answer. But as per usual in Sierra’s presence, Brighton had nothing but a smile to offer. “First of all, this isn’t white. This is cream. And to answer your question, I’m just a risk-taker.”

  “I’ve seriously been sitting here wondering how anyone could be confident enough to eat anything in that outfit,” Gabriel laughed his booming laugh. Not only did Riley now know why Gabriel had been squinting so intently at Sierra, she suddenly understood why he opted to wear all black. Judging from their first date, he wasn’t great at keeping food off his clothes.

  When their orders arrived, Riley marveled at the bright and colorful wheels of vegetables and meats arranged atop the injera, which she quickly learned was the sourdough flatbread that doubled as a plate and utensils. When she realized the full extent of their eating situation, Riley considered the fact that Sierra’s risk-taking was a whole other level than she had previously considered.

  There was almost zero chance that Gabriel or Riley would make it out of this date without getting tie-dyed by their dinner, despite the fact that they were wearing dark clothes. And especially since the honey wine was being poured with a heavy hand. Despite its syrupy sweetness, Riley could tell that she was about to get very drunk.

  Eating proved to be difficult when one was drunk and without utensils, especially when most of the food had the consistency of oatmeal. Riley marveled at how expertly Sierra and Brighton managed to eat. If she were the betting type, she’d put a lot of money on the fact that these two would make it out of the restaurant unscathed. Even Gabriel was doing alright.

  Though Riley thought everyone was hungry enough not to notice that she was barely getting any food in her mouth, she should’ve realized she wouldn’t be so lucky. She saw now that Sierra was watching her from the corner of her eye, observing the ineptitude with a subtle curiosity.

  “Like this,” Sierra instructed, tearing off a piece of injera before wrapping it around a bright yellow lentil stew. She held it up, showing Riley what looked like the tiniest burrito, before turning to feed it to Brighton.

  In turn, Brighton scooped up some finely chopped beets and put the wrap against his fiancée’s lips. Sierra held eye contact with him, smiling as she accepted the food.

  The moment seemed a bit too…sensual, or at least intimate, for Riley to be casually observing, but she remembered that Brighton had insisted on feeding her a fry at the food hall and reasoned that this wasn’t as weird for them as it was for her. Sierra and Brighton were clearly both the touchy-feely type and this all appeared like perfectly normal behavior to them.

  Before Riley could give it a go, she was suddenly presented with a little injera wrap herself, held right up to her lips already. She peered over at Gabriel who gave her a quick wink.

  “Thanks,” Riley said sheepishly, leaning forward to take the bite off of Gabriel. She didn’t receive it as neatly as Sierra and Brighton did, and before she knew it, Gabriel was laughing as he swept a thumb over her lips to wipe off the food that didn’t make it inside.

  Around the time they lost count of the bottles of honey wine they had gone through, Riley’s body was dealing with the effects of food coma, inebriation, and a vague but familiar sensation.

  A sensation responsible for the fact that she couldn’t keep her hands off of Gabriel.

  She wasn’t sure what sparked this sudden feeling. Perhaps it was all the new and unfamiliar things she had been exposed to tonight. Perhaps it was the wine. All the touching. The sensory overload.
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  All Riley knew was that she desperately wanted to get Gabriel back to her place. Alone.

  But he was still busy socializing, and Riley was admittedly pretty happy just to watch him do that. All the business of feeding each other seemed normal to her now, as if she hadn’t been balking at it just a half hour before. She watched as Gabriel moved on to hand-feed both Sierra and Brighton and she couldn’t help but laugh. They were just strangers an hour before, and now they were acting as if they’d known each other forever.

  It all felt sort of out of body, sitting in her new outfit with her new man and her new friends. Doing new things.

  Riley marveled at just how quickly things could change.

  23

  The sunlight that crept through her blinds every morning felt like laser beams today. Riley groaned, covering her already closed eyes with her palms, applying just a bit of pressure to hopefully nudge that dull headache away.

  She could feel that she was on the edge of her bed, which was unusual these days considering she slept dead center ever since Evan left. There was also an unusual whiff of something in the air – cologne.

  Oh boy, Riley thought. She must’ve brought Gabriel home after all.

  She felt kind of bad that she couldn’t remember their first time together, but even worse about the fact that she couldn’t even remember how she got home. It had been ages since she drank like that and she definitely never blacked out. Riley desperately hoped she hadn’t done something embarrassing.

  Eyes still closed, she turned towards Gabriel, putting her hands out to feel for him – to confirm he was actually there. Her fingertips met bare skin.

  He shifted slightly under her touch, but just as quickly fell asleep again.

  His smell was invading her space, amplified for some reason. But there was a touch of something else that struck her. Patchouli. A smell that she didn’t associate with Gabriel. A smell she associated with…