Because You're Mine

by Marin Montgomery

  As soon as I saw his vehicle drive past the house, I knew it was time to go.

  My legs wobble. I need to get ahold of myself. I reach out and balance myself on the closet door.

  I have to get away from my past and do so in record time.

  I need as much distance as possible between us.

  There was one perplexing question—did I leave the ring or take it?

  It was a gorgeous, handcrafted diamond he had designed with his jeweler, but I also knew it cost a small fortune, and I might need the money.

  The ring was as easy to part with as Alec, but it could buy me more time.

  I decide that I will leave it lying in the crib.

  He had insisted on the crib. In the nursery he demanded.

  The room was tastefully decorated in gender-neutral colors, and every detail down to the handmade bassinet and the striped linens considered. A tan stuffed bear that weighs as much as me is propped in the corner, its beady eyes staring at me with regret, and more importantly, a potential video recording device. I yank the bear around, paranoid this is another one of Alec’s sly attempts to watch me.

  There wasn’t time to go back down memory lane, but it all came crashing back to me as I twist off the ring, the brilliant four carats sparkling in the light from the window in the nursery.

  The proposal had happened in Fiji when we were on vacation four months ago.

  Usually, I can foresee the turn of events in relationships, but this was a new one, even for me.

  It was unexpected to say the least. We had only been dating for about a year, and he proposed on the anniversary of Eric’s death, which Alec planned on purpose as a tribute to our dear friend. Something good to come out of the bad.

  I believed him at the time—thought it was sweet.

  It isn’t a memory I like to conjure up because it reminds me of happier times before I knew he had the potential to be a cold-blooded killer.

  Our waiter at the resort restaurant had come up to our table at the end of the meal to check on us. He had asked me to grab the check off of his tray which I thought was weird.

  There, lying on the bill for our seafood and cocktails, was a blue box with a white ribbon that could mean only one thing.

  The waiter smiled as my stomach did somersaults, and my head got fuzzy.

  Alec nodded at me to go ahead and remove it from the tray. I gingerly took the Tiffany’s box and formed the biggest smile I have ever composed in my life.

  As I looked to my right where Alec was seated, I saw him get down on one knee. I started to gag and had to force myself not to throw up the expensive sea bass that was now lodged in my throat. I wasn’t prepared for this.

  Internally, I knew I had to get my nerves together, or I would mess up this proposal. I needed to keep mine intact.

  This was overwhelming to me but not unwelcome.

  “Levin,” Alec took my hands in his, “I know this has been a rough year, but in the toughest time of my life, you came along. You have been the best thing that could ever happen to me.” He searches my face and continues, “You are smart, sexy, and have made a one-woman man out of me. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Will you marry me?”

  He took the box from my lap and proceeded to pull out one of the largest and brightest diamonds I have ever seen. Tears shone in his eyes as he slid a Marquis-cut sparkler on my ring finger attached to my shaking hand.

  I started to cry knowing we had bonded over a tragedy that had blossomed into love.

  I whispered the word ‘yes’ before saying it over and over with more conviction each time.

  There was unease, though.

  For every ‘yes’ coming from my lips, my stomach twisted threatening to release the contents of my queasy stomach.

  “I love you so much.” I grabbed him by the neck and kissed him with all the passion I could muster in front of a group of excited patrons and wait staff at the restaurant.

  He had secured us the best view of the South Pacific Ocean and had made sure that the Maitre’d was recording the momentous event. He was detail-oriented and had spared no expense in making sure the proposal was charming and thoughtful.

  “Baby,” I cried into his arms. “I’m so excited to be your wife.” He held me close as pictures were snapped, and a smile played across his lips.

  “Thank you.” He grabbed my chin kissing me hard on the mouth.

  “For what?” I wiped a tear from my eye. At least in pictures and on video, it would look like I genuinely cared about being his wife.

  “For making an honest man out of me. I know I didn't always make it easy. I’m just glad you stuck with me as I sorted through my shit and got over...” His voice trailed off.

  That was the one point he had made which I understood. How hard Eric’s death had been to get through—I would never be over it.

  Alec’s head tilted, his gaze trained on me. “I just wish Eric was here with us to see how happy we are. How he brought us together.”

  Alec looked glum, a quiet sadness in his eyes, and at that moment, I started to cry real tears of unhappiness, and I covered them by burying my head in Alec’s shoulder.

  I tried to get ahold of my feelings. “I miss him more than you’ll ever know. He meant so much to both of us.”

  I covered Alec’s hand with my own, now sparkling with the diamond reflecting off the candlelight. “I know he’s here looking down on us, so happy.”

  In Fiji after his proposal, the topic of children came screeching to a halt in front of me. He confided in me the last day that he wanted to be a father soon, and that our marriage was icing on the cake to seal the deal. We were lying in bed the next morning after the surprise proposal.

  Alec had never professed he wanted kids. In fact, he was adamant when going out to dinner that we choose adult-only restaurants, and when I offered a night off to a new mom next door, Alec flat out refused to help babysit.

  It was suspect.

  I snap back to reality when I hear my phone ring. It is a burner phone, one I acquired at a local cell phone provider. It has a limited number of minutes and isn’t as high-tech as my current model. There’s no Facebook. No Instagram. No email. It is a simple flip phone reminiscent of my teenage years when a cell phone was a novelty. With this, I’m virtually untraceable.

  I know it’s Maddy, my new friend. The one who is helping me out of this mess.

  I fling the ring into the crib.

  He can have it.

  Chapter Four

  Alec

  I head to the office, my 8:00 a.m. confirmed. I sigh in relief. I need this deal and the money.

  Dinner tonight would give me even more opportunity to make up some of the money I had lost in unsavory investments. Real estate is a gamble, and some payouts are higher than others, but if Eric had been doing his part in our business, this wouldn’t have happened. The deal was closing this afternoon, and the commission would be a chunk of money I desperately needed.

  I turn up the classic rock station and blast some AC/DC. My window comes down, and I’m tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. This could turn out to be one of the best days in recent memory.

  Or one of the worst.

  My thoughts drift to Levin—her weird behavior today—the missing luggage.

  I think back to our last couple of months.

  Sure, we’ve had a couple of bumps in the road, but who doesn’t?

  I remember how I felt after she accepted my marriage proposal—the weight off my shoulders.

  She said yes. I breathed a sigh of relief as we headed back to our hotel room.

  She said yes. I breathed a sigh of relief as we flew back to San Diego.

  She said yes. I breathed a sigh of relief as we got settled into my house, and I promised her we could start looking at a shared home. She hadn’t wanted to live together until marriage, but I was persuasive, and she finally gave in.

  She always did. Not because she was a pushover, but because she needed stability i
n her life. Her childhood was chaotic, but she had gone to college and excelled at everything she did.

  Others might be envious of her beauty, but I knew it went deeper which made her a rare commodity. Levin believed in enrichment, and she was the one always interested in charitable events and volunteering her time.

  Before I’d requested she stop working, she had been a successful graphic designer.

  But now it seemed she was leaving me. And I wasn’t happy about it. Because now I wanted her—all of her. She was the total package, and I knew it.

  Her personality is warm and inviting. My clients took to her like a moth to a flame. She could hold their attention and better yet, involve herself in their discussions without sounding like an airhead. Levin had the personality when I met her, but I gave her the finesse. The je ne sais quoi.

  I had been careless with her feelings and her heart at times, a selfishness that profoundly disappointed me as I thought about what I had put her through. She deserved better, but she got me instead. I did my best to make up for it by giving her a life that most could only dream about.

  I fell hard for her. I tried to resist by chasing other women, more deals, money, and by shutting her out.

  Levin went, but not without a fight. She had staying power. She was worth it. She knew it.

  I did not want a repeat of the other girl I thought I loved in college.

  I came crawling back to Levin—defeated—but with a sense of purpose because I had more information to make an educated decision. Eric had been the final straw.

  Eric McGrath had been my business partner. Keyword—had been.

  If only Eric hadn’t been so hell-bent on running the business himself, on pushing me out.

  I had blown through millions of our money, yes, but I prefer the word ‘invested.’

  He didn’t understand building a business from the ground up, and the development that comes with it. He had been the financial backer with daddy’s money. I had been the mover and shaker of the business, and he had been the silver-spooned brains. I wish he had seen it before it was too late.

  I knew the guilt of his actions had led him to kill himself—at least that’s what I told myself and others.

  Levin had grown up with me. I had known about her as he constantly mentioned her. Every childhood memory he brought up seemed to have her in it.

  My first impression had been that they were in a relationship at one time, now friendly exes. That was, however, until I realized he had a hard-on for men.

  The first time I had caught him, he had been in the backseat of his SUV with a real estate investor of ours. Who knew that scouting office space would result in me finding the perfect location and him finding a love connection?

  After that encounter, which I never mentioned and pretended I didn’t see, I made it my mission to watch Eric like a hawk.

  Personally, I could care less about Eric’s sexual identity. I did have an issue when business mixed with pleasure and resulted in catastrophic outcomes.

  That client had made it his mission in life to try to use his sexual relationship with Eric as his security blanket when it came to representation. He had expected favors and cut commissions because he had been in Eric’s mouth. This made for some perilous expectations.

  I was relieved that Eric and Levin hadn’t had a relationship beyond the platonic. It made it easier for me to whittle my way into her life after the funeral. Honing my way into her life had been relatively simple. I had been the one to check on her, comfort her, share stories and commonalities about Eric. The relationship happened naturally and over time.

  After I had seen his will, and after I knew what he was worth and what his worth meant, Levin was his priceless commodity it seemed.

  And yes, in the mix, as hard as it is to admit, I fell in love with her—an unexpected, complicated little wrench in my plan.

  I keep replaying this morning—her flicking gaze, her trembling hands, the missing luggage…

  The urge to flip a U-turn and head home is rampant, but I call her on my Bluetooth.

  It goes straight to voicemail.

  Chapter Five

  Levin

  “Maddy,” I say when I answer her call, “I’m ready.”

  There’s no need for small talk. We both know what happened and what needs to happen. Details are neither here nor there.

  “I’ll meet you at Connor’s,” she says.

  “See you in twenty.” I hang up. Connor’s is a diner a few miles away known for their pancakes and despised for their service.

  I turn the burner off.

  The other cell I hide in the closet, pressing it in one of my tennis shoes, a pair I’ve never

  worn. If he tracks the location, it will still show I’m at home.

  I don’t glance back as I head outside exiting through the garage and walking down to where my rental car is waiting.

  Alec will be on my trail soon enough, especially after a woman showed up at the house on his heels a few weeks ago.

  I was home alone, drinking a glass of vino and watching mindless television—the kind you secretly love to hate—a group of bored housewives comparing their plastic surgery pitfalls and young, hunky boyfriends off to their frenemies.

  The doorbell chimed.

  I almost ignored it. No one would be looking for me. I kept to myself expecting no one.

  A heavy knock echoed through the foyer into the den.

  I grabbed the remote and hit pause on the DVR. I craned my neck to see who was peeking through the frosted glass of our double front doors.

  The woman at the door was elegant. She was dressed to the nines in a printed wrap dress, Jimmy Choo’s, and had Gucci shades piled on top of her blonde head.

  I opened the door thinking she must be a Realtor.

  She stuck her hand out. “You must be Levin Crowdley?” It came out as a question but sounded matter-of-fact, like she had known what to expect.

  I nodded waiting for her to continue. She stared at me a moment too long.

  “I’m Liz Hopkins, it’s wow, crazy to meet you.” She stumbles over her words. “You look so much like her. My sister.” She searches my face to see if her name rings a bell. It does not.

  “Do I know your sister?” I am confused. Is this a business acquaintance of Alec’s?

  “No.” Liz pauses, “You don’t. She’s uh… she’s gone.”

  I am curious. I don’t know this woman but feel compelled to stand here and listen instead of slamming the door in her face. She isn’t demented.

  “You look like her,” Liz repeats, shaking her head.

  “I assume you know Alec, my fiancé?” I say.

  “Only in passing.” Liz fumbles over her next sentence. “I need to talk to you. I waited until he left.”

  My eyes narrow. Who is this woman? Did he have a long-lost sister I didn’t know about?

  Even worse, my mind turns a dark corner. You always hear about mistresses that confront the girlfriend or wife. Was her sister having an affair with Alec? I grab the door frame. The bile is rising in my throat. I instinctively reach for my throat, a nervous habit I have.

  Liz reaches out for my arm. “I read online you got engaged. I had to warn you.”

  “We can’t talk here.” I nod up at the camera aimed right at the front door. I smile at her, the lens focused on us, trying not to look so tense.

  “I look different,” Liz says. “He won’t know me. Here, I’m going to hand you my business card. It’s actually a friend’s.” She hands me a card.

  My hand shakes as I take it and make a point of reading it.

  I look back up at her and smile. Janine Fredericks, Avon Consultant. I pretend I am making small talk. My mind races as I try to process what this could be about.

  “Where can we talk?” Liz is apprehensive as she smooths a piece of hair down in a nervous gesture, now uncomfortable that she’s being watched.

  I pause, unsure of what to do, my thoughts racing in my head. Either this woman
is certifiably crazy, or my fiancé is.

  “Do you want to sit in my car?” Liz asks. There’s nothing I want to do less.

  I nod ‘yes.’

  Liz whispers. “I parked down the street. Meet me in fifteen. Act like you’re going for a walk.”

  With that, she grabs my hand in an awkward handshake. She gives me a fake, toothy smile. She is beautiful. I drift back to her sister. What is she to Alec?

  She turns, and I make it a point not to watch her walk away. Alec would wonder why I did if he watches the tape, and I knew he did. He watches me like a hawk—eyes constant, darting back and forth on their prey, deciding when to swoop down for the kill.

  I head inside and throw on some sweats and a tank top pretending I am going for a leisurely walk down the block. I even twist my hair into a knot on my head, which is now pounding with the uncertainties of what this strange woman has to tell me.

  My stomach aches, and I start to gag. I make it to the toilet just in time to release the contents of tonight’s dinner and wine.

  There are moments in life that define you, that change you, for better or worse. In my gut, I knew this was one of those times.

  I take my time reaching Liz Hopkin’s safe navy Volvo down the street. It is a convertible, and I make a judgment call that says she prides herself on safety but wanted a little fun.

  She sees me coming and unlocks the passenger side door.

  I open it slowly. “I don’t want to get in.” I am not rude, but it is a firm commitment not to enter a stranger’s vehicle.

  She shakes her head in agreement. “Completely understand. Let me get out. We can talk here.” Liz leaves her purse inside but takes her keys out. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  I motion to her heels. “In those?”

  She laughs—it is forced. I lean against her car. She does the same. We are facing each other not unlike a stand-off—the good vs. evil. I am unsure in this instance if there is a side.

  “Was your sister having an affair with my fiancé?” The words are rushed and sound strange even to me. I swallow hard.