Wicked Game

by Michelle Betham

“You’re still coming over to ours tonight, aren’t you?”

  Jenna’s voice pulls me back from thoughts of Joe, and I swing around, folding my arms against myself. “Sorry …? Oh, yeah. Of course we are.”

  Dinner parties.

  Get-togethers.

  Sunday afternoon barbecues.

  My life is slowly finding its way back to normal. I’m just not sure Noah and me are following suit. That’s taking more time. I think we’re both still trying to deal with everything in our own way, still trying to put those broken pieces back together. And I know he lies awake at night, I know he does that, because I do it too. And yet, neither one of us reaches out to the other to talk. To spend those silent, early hours of the morning working our shit out together, instead of lying there staring at the ceiling, beside each other yet, so far apart. We’re trying, we are, and I love him. I do …

  “I’m going out.”

  Jenna frowns again, watching me as I grab my car keys from the desk. “Going where? We’ve got that meeting at half three.”

  “I’ll be back in plenty of time. There’s just something I need to do.”

  I’m out of the door before she can ask any more questions, in my car before I’ve even had time to draw another breath. The twenty-minute journey seems to take forever, even though the roads are pretty quiet at this time of day, and as I finally pull into a parking space a little way down from Noah’s restaurant, I’m beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea.

  I get out of the car, and I take a second to get my head together. I lean back against a wall and drop my gaze, breathing in deep as I look back up, at the sea that stretches out ahead of me at the end of the road. I take another deep breath; the smell of the sea, that slight hint of salt lightly kissing the air. I love living here, at the coast. We have views out across the North Sea from our bedroom window, it was partly the reason we bought that house, so we could wake up every morning and breathe in that sea air.

  “We’re Noah and Kari,” I whisper to myself, once more dropping my head, I just need another second. “Noah and Kari. Always. Forever.”

  We’d said those exact words on our wedding day. Whispered them to each other as he’d kissed me. As I’d kissed him. As we’d slipped those white-gold bands onto our fingers and knew that we’d never love anyone else, we couldn’t, what we had was special. Different. Our own kind of love, we were different. Maybe that was our mistake. Our downfall.

  Being different hurt us.

  Being different drove us apart … no. No, that’s not true. Noah drove us apart, he slept with another woman.

  I slept with another man.

  I had sex with Joe Millar, and no one was watching.

  My fingers curl around my car keys, grasping them so tight I don’t even realise they’re digging into the palm of my hand until I feel the sharp pain, and I quickly let go of them, watching as they hit the pavement with a clatter.

  “Kari?”

  My head shoots up, and Noah’s standing there in front of me, looking at me with a confused expression.

  “You okay?” He crouches down to retrieve the keys and hands them back to me. “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you finished work already?”

  “No … no, we’ve got a meeting with a new client at half three, I just …”

  I look at him. Right at him. Every second of every day is spent trying to see past what he did – what we did – and I’m only just beginning to realise how exhausting it’s becoming.

  “I just had to pop out. There was something we needed, and when I realised I’d be passing here … Shouldn’t you be in the restaurant?”

  Nobody said this was going to be easy. Nobody promised us a perfect happy-ever-after, I just have to keep remembering how much I love him. And believe he really does love me, too.

  He smiles that painfully quirky, slightly lopsided smile of his as he briefly dips his gaze and shoves his hands into his pockets. And when he looks back up at me he’s still smiling, and I feel my heart jolt a little.

  “Yeah, you see, you caught me out now.”

  “Caught you out?”

  “Living a stone’s throw from this place,” He jerks his head back towards the restaurant, “means I can sneak home for a bit of a rest before evening service.”

  “You do that often, do you?” I smirk, yeah, this wasn’t a bad idea, coming here this afternoon. It was a good one.

  He shrugs, and then he laughs, and my world – our world – suddenly feels a little bit brighter. “Now and again.”

  Our eyes meet, and I don’t care that we’re out on the street, I reach out and pull him to me by his shirt collar, sliding a hand around the back of his neck as I kiss him. And he responds in a heartbeat, rests a hand on my hip as he kisses me back.

  “Sometimes I just can’t help believing in fate,” he murmurs, and he smiles again, and I feel so much more certain that we can get back to where we once were than I did just an hour or so ago. Those people we used to be, they’re still inside of us. They’re still there, somewhere.

  “Well, I can’t promise that you’re going to get that rest-between-services you were banking on now.”

  His smile widens, and as he takes my hand; as we start the short walk back home I feel like we might have turned a corner.

  “You thought any more about taking some time out?” he asks, giving my hand a tiny squeeze, the smallest of gestures but something so intimate I feel tears start to build, clouding my vision.

  “We need it, right?”

  We stop walking. He pulls me back into his arms and he kisses the tip of my nose, another tiny gesture that makes me want to cry. I’m so fucking emotional these days, I don’t even recognise myself sometimes.

  “We need it,” he murmurs into my hair, and I close my eyes and hold onto him.

  “Then let’s do it,” I whisper. “Let’s take some time out. For us.”

  He takes my face in his hands, and he smiles that smile and my heart gives another jolt as he kisses me again. “I love you, Kari.”

  “I love you too,” I whisper, and that needs to be enough now.

  It needs to be enough …

  Nineteen

  The day had started out quite dull, an unwelcome mist hanging low over the brightly coloured buildings of Bergen. But that mist’s shifting now. The sun’s trying its hardest to penetrate the cloudy sky, and as I walk along the quiet, cobbled street I can already feel a mild heat hitting the back of my neck. Summer in Norway can be beautiful, making the already stunning views all the more breathtaking, and sometimes I just like to walk and look around me; take everything in, and realise what a beautiful place this is.

  I’d thought about heading down to the harbour, but it’ll be busier down there and I’m enjoying the peace, so I continue to wind my way through the narrow streets, and I have no real idea of where I’m going. It doesn’t matter. I’m just enjoying the walk.

  My phone chimes out an alert and I stop for a second, leaning back against a rust-coloured wooden building to check the message. Noah’s sent a text from the hospital. Everything’s okay, his dad’s recovering really well, his fall wasn’t as bad as they first thought, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Sliding my phone back into my pocket I resume my walk. Our holiday has turned out to be very different to how we’d planned it. When Astrid called yesterday, to let us know about Henrik’s fall, we’d had to bring our trip forward. Scrap any ideas of time alone. We’d had to head back over to Norway, a place we hadn’t intended on visiting for a while, because Noah’s family know nothing of the problems we’ve been having, and we don’t see a reason why that should change, least of all now, with Henrik in hospital. They may never need to know the truth, at all, but right now, Noah and I have to put up a front. We have to pretend that everything’s fine, and it’s exhausting. I should be with him now, at the hospital, but when I woke up this morning I had a headache from hell, thought I was coming down with something, so I stayed at
home. And that time alone, it was just what I needed. I made myself useful, helped Noah’s mum out by cleaning the house and tidying the garden before I headed out on this walk, and now that I’ve had some fresh air and time to myself, I’m fine. The headache’s gone and I’m feeling much better.

  My phone chimes out another alert, and I sit down on a bench that overlooks the mountains and the brightly coloured buildings that line the harbour before I check it. I might head down there in a minute, to the harbour, to my favourite café, and grab some lunch now my appetite’s slowly coming back.

  I glance down at my phone, it’s another text from Noah, apologising for not asking how I was doing; if I was okay. I text him back to let him know I’m fine. I’m feeling better, I’m just taking a walk. I tell him he’s not to worry about me, he needs to concentrate on his dad. I tell him I love him, because I do.

  Raising my gaze, I take another look out ahead of me, even from way over here I can see the harbour’s busy, but it’s almost lunch time. Tourists, workers and locals alike will all be looking for food, drink and a break from whatever they’re spending their day doing. And the sun’s come out now, its rays bouncing off the water below and I reach down to retrieve the sunglasses I’ve got hooked over the top of my sundress.

  The appearance of the sun means the temperature’s also risen, it’s really warm, the heat’s almost burning the back of my neck and shoulders and I slide my hands into my pockets, dropping my head as I start to walk down the steep hill. I’d wanted some time, alone, to save us – Noah and me. I’d wanted to go somewhere, far away from anything that could get to us; I’d wanted to feel like it really was going to be okay, but, if I’m being honest, I don’t even know if that would have worked. If that could have saved us, I still feel like Noah’s pulling away from me. I felt it back home, before we came out here. Even as we planned that holiday we never got to take, I felt it; felt like I was stepping back from him. I knew it, I felt it, I just didn’t want to admit it was happening, but I’ve had time to think. And I just don’t know what to do anymore. I know I love him, I just don’t know how that works now, after everything we’ve been through. Everything we’ve done. We’re trying, to pull the broken pieces back into place, but only some of them are fitting now. Others have become too distorted, they’ve changed beyond recognition, there’s no place for them anymore.

  It’s quite a long walk back down to the harbour, but it didn’t feel that way as I finally reach the café I always come to when I’m here. I spent the time thinking. Wondering. And then I let my head clear, and I feel almost rejuvenated as I sit down at a table outside. This little café is a familiar place in a country I consider to be almost like a second home to me, because of my husband’s heritage. A safe place. It’s a favourite of mine, I feel comfortable here.

  I order coffee and an open-topped salmon sandwich, settle back and watch everything going on around me. It makes me feel – I don’t know. Like everything’s okay. Normal. This is just like any other visit here. I’d always have at least one day to myself, when we come to Norway. One day when Noah would go and see Magnus in the restaurant. One day to myself to enjoy the peace and the views and the very different vibe of this beautiful place. I always liked those days, but now – no. This isn’t like any other visit.

  Finishing my lunch, I check my phone, but Noah hasn’t messaged or called again. I didn’t expect him to, but I’m still a little disappointed, I’m just not sure why, exactly. And as I look out at people walking past the café, some strolling slowly, some rushing past, quite obviously on their way to somewhere, I realise everything feels too different now. Even this place. I feel like people know, what I did. How much I wanted it; enjoyed it. How deep Joe Millar engrained himself into my very soul, and it’s the fact I’ve let that one thought creep into my brain that pulls me back to reality with a sharp jolt.

  Gathering my things together, I go inside to pay the check before making my way along the harbour front, I should head back home now. I should think about going to see Noah, and Henrik.

  “Kari?”

  I stop dead in my tracks, but I don’t turn around. I stay right where I am, just for a second or two, and then I resume walking.

  “Kari? Is that you?”

  No. No, I’m just imagining it, because I let him in, let myself think about him, and that was wrong. But this – this isn’t real, I’m not hearing his voice, he isn’t here.

  I just wish he was…?

  I’m aware of my hands balling into fists as I lean back against the wall of a nearby restaurant. It’s crowded with diners, both inside and out here, on the terrace, and that’s good, I want to blend into the background while I try to get my head together. I close my eyes and will any thoughts, any memories of Joe Millar to disappear. To fade away. To leave me alone, I can’t fight if he’s still there.

  “Kari? I thought it was you.”

  Opening my eyes, I see him standing there, right in front of me, tall and handsome, invading my space and killing me, all over again. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, this is crazy. No …”

  “Are you alone? Is Noah not with you?”

  He looks around, as though he’s searching for Noah, but he knows I’m alone. He knows. And then he turns his head back to face me, and he smiles, and I feel my already too fragile world start to shatter around me.

  “I have to go.”

  I start to walk away, but he gently takes hold of my hand, his fingers slipping between mine, and defeat swamps me.

  “Please, Kari, can we just talk?”

  I look at him, his dark brown hair pushed back off his face, a heavy stubble covering his jaw line, the beard’s almost back; those eyes of his staring so deep into mine, I can’t turn away. He’s done it again, he’s reeled me in and I have no choice. No fucking choice.

  There’s always a choice.

  Not where Joe Millar’s concerned.

  No.

  There’s always a choice …

  I sit down at a table in the corner of the terrace, and as he goes inside to fetch us some drinks I look around me. I could leave, he isn’t holding me prisoner here. I could get up and walk away, leave this – him – behind, but I thought I’d already done that. Joe Millar wasn’t supposed to be back in my life, he was supposed to be gone, for good. Forever. I could walk away, but I don’t. And when he returns I find myself wishing we were alone, and I hate myself for that.

  “What are you doing here?” I can’t take my eyes off him. His stare is mesmerising. Hypnotic. Dark, dangerous; utterly captivating.

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Noah’s dad had a fall. He’s in hospital. We came over to see him.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes. He is.”

  “So, you’re not with Noah? At the hospital?” He raises an eyebrow, and that irritates me slightly. He’s still playing a game, and I don’t have the energy for that anymore. And I don’t respond to his comment, it’s none of his business. I drop my head and clasp my hand around the glass of wine he’s just set down on the table, but I don’t drink it. I want to keep a clear head, I think I need to do that, now more than ever.

  “You look tired,” he says, and I raise my gaze, my eyes once more locking on his.

  “Things haven’t been easy lately.”

  He leaves a pause but doesn’t shift his gaze from mine. “I’m sorry.”

  He doesn’t explain what he’s sorry for. Is he sorry things haven’t been easy for me? Or is he sorry for this, whatever it is? Sorry he’s disrupting my life all over again?

  “I still think about you, every day, Kari.”

  “Don’t. Don’t do that. That shit is over, Joe.”

  He suddenly clamps his hand over mine, his eyes turning darker, his expression serious. “That shit is only just beginning, and deep down inside you know that. You knew that, even before today.”

  I pull my hand from his grip and drop my gaze. Once again he’s instilling a fear in me that
I can’t shake. It’s pumping through my veins like a deadly poison and I can’t stop it spreading.

  “You believe in fate, Kari. Right?”

  I slowly look up. I used to. But everything’s different now, he saw to that. “I have to go.” I get up, and this time he doesn’t stop me. He watches me leave, he makes no attempt to follow me, and that confuses me. But it also makes me nervous, because I don’t believe this is just a coincidence. I don’t believe that we just bumped into each other, this wasn’t some random meeting.

  Joe Millar is more powerful than I ever imagined he could be. And once again, I’m being pulled towards him.

  Once again, I’m losing the fight …

  *

  Coincidence? A meeting borne purely out of chance? No. I knew where she’d be. I knew she was here, in Bergen. I’ve known where she was from the very second I left her. I’ve been aware of her every move, so I knew she was here, I knew why she was here. And I know that Kari seeing me – that will have unsettled her enough to put a small dent in any work she and Noah might have done so far to repair their relationship; any attempt they may have already made to fix their broken marriage. She saw me, she looked into my eyes, and she still wants me. I still want her, I can’t sleep at night because I want her so bad. She’s my walking fantasy, my living, breathing wet dream, and I need her. I close my eyes and I’m touching her, feeling her, warm and soft, her skin burning beneath my fingertips; her muscles gripping me like a vice, when we fuck I’m a different man. And I’m not giving that up, she’s going to come to me.

  I’ve sown a seed, that was my goal today. To put the wheels in motion, place myself right there at the forefront of her mind, eating away at her until she too loses sleep over the shit we started.

  We’re not over.

  No.

  We’re only just beginning …

  Twenty

  “I saw Joe today.”

  No lies. No secrets. And yet, I know the real reason why I’m telling him this. Why I’m mentioning Joe.