by Sotia Lazu
“Goodnight, Xochipilli,” she said to the statue on her nightstand. “You’re a tenacious little fucker.”
The statue smiled, and Bella drifted off.
Chapter Seventeen
Ana wasn’t coming back.
Mike had felt her decision in her body, tense even as it yielded beneath him.
He’d seen it in her eyes, red with unshed tears.
She’d carved it on his back, with her nails.
Ana had said goodbye and left him behind, broken and alone.
He hadn’t said his last word, though. It took him minutes to find the single recording studio near Arbore’s, and this was the third morning in a row he waited for her.
This time he knew she wouldn’t recognize him. Worse, she might remember him as the spooky stranger who accosted her one time, insisting they were sleeping together. He was prepared for that.
Ana might have given up on them, but he hadn’t. Wouldn’t.
Today was the first day of the rest of their lives.
His confidence wavered when she rounded the corner. She wore dark, oversized sunglasses, and her pale-blond hair was gathered atop her head in a messy bun. She looked dazzling in the morning light, and Mike realized he’d never seen her in direct sunlight before. Even that day he ran into her while looking for his Ana, the sky had been overcast.
He’d never before seen her this glowing or this upbeat. There was a bounce in her step, as she approached the entrance of the building he’d been watching for the last couple hours. This Ana was sixteen years lighter, but most of all, she was unburdened by the knowledge the man she loved had been a cheater.
How could he ever cheat on her? He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Hell, he’d gone monogamous for her. He believed in time travel for her. But she said the future couldn’t change, and if she was right—no matter what—he’d be an asshole, and he’d slip, and he’d break her heart. Could he approach her, knowing that? She seemed so happy and carefree. She might hold on to this, if she never met him.
His heart would wither and die, and he’d spend his life settling for less, but Ana would be happy.
Would she?
What he saw now was a moment in her life. Could he tell with absolute certainty that her next sixteen years would be better without him than with him? No. And at the end of the day, he refused to accept that he was unable to control his dick and would blow up his relationship with Ana for a mere fuck.
He’d talk to her.
Though it’d have to wait till she came back out, since in the time it took him to decide, she’d disappeared inside the building.
What followed were the longest four hours of his life.
A headache was building at the base of his skull when she reemerged. Mike watched her hug a stylish brunette in her thirties. As she pulled back from the hug, the woman looked right at him, and then said something to Ana. Mike didn’t catch what it was, but Ana spun his way with a frown. He chanced a wave, and she narrowed her eyes and strode across the road to him. The older woman studied them, her arms crossed and her mouth drawn in a thin line.
“You again.” Ana stopped a couple feet from him. She didn’t seem happy to see him.
Mike ached to hold her close, but she wasn’t his Ana yet. He decided to focus on her words instead of the daggers her eyes threw. “You remember me.”
“I remember saying I’d call the police next time you showed up.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Cassandra is ready to dial.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Mike said. “I know I freaked you out last time, but now I have answers.”
“Cassandra says you’ve been staring at the studio for three days.”
Had she even heard him? “Ana, there is something I need to tell you, and it’ll be hard for you to believe, but I swear it’s the truth.”
“You keep saying my name like you know me.”
So they were doing this here. Okay by him. “I do know you. I’m supposed to know you. We’re meant to be together. Just let me explain, please.” And… he sounded crazy.
“I think I’ve heard enough.” She took a step back. She was leaving.
Mike couldn’t let her go. He clasped her wrist, lightly, praying she wouldn’t feel threatened and run. “Please give me five minutes,” he said. It wouldn’t be enough, but he had to try.
Her eyes were narrowed to slits, and her voice rose above conversational levels. “You stalk me. Show up at my recording studio. Spout your garden-variety-stalker spiel about how we’re meant to be. Why would I ever listen to you?”
He was prepared for this question. “Because if you get to know me, I’ll remind you of that cat you had. The one that hated everyone but you, because with you, he was home.”
She schooled her features to remain impassive, but not before he saw the shock in her eyes. “How do you know about my cat?”
“You told me.”
She snorted. “When?”
“Two nights ago.”
“Let me guess. We had sex again, and I again don’t remember it.”
“We didn’t. It wasn’t you. It was future-you.” This wasn’t going well. “I know it sounds impossible, but a woman looking exactly like you walked into the restaurant I work at, a few weeks ago. We left together. I can prove it. People saw us. They saw her again the next night. She kept coming back, and then she stopped. First time I met you, I thought you were her.”
“And she just happened to also have my name?” She wrapped her denim jacket tighter around her. She was still ready to flee, but she was listening.
“She did. She kept disappearing on me, and two nights ago she showed up with a story I couldn’t believe. She said she was you, but from the future. That she was my wife. My ex-wife. That we got a divorce”—he’d leave out the reason, for now—“and she was heartbroken, and she was somehow sent back, to… I don’t know. She said it was to get over me, but I doubt it. I think it was so we could make things right.”
She put more distance between them. “You are crazy. I have to go.”
“Ana, please.” Please, what? “Just come by Arbore’s tonight. My entire brigade has seen us kiss. They’ve been making fun of me for acting like a lovesick kid. When you—when she wouldn’t show for days, I went nuts. I acted like a jerk. Because I’m in love with her. With you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Come by Arbore’s. Public place. Nothing to fear. I’m not working tonight, but I’ll be there. I’ll tell you every detail she’s given me.” An idea hit him, reviving his dying hope. “You have a cousin. Angie, right? She can do magic. Real magic. Call her. Ask her. She gave you a small statue of an Aztec god for our wedding. That’s what’s responsible for all this.”
“I have to go.”
“Call Angie. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.”
She hurried to her friend without a look back.
She wasn’t going to show tonight.
And yet, Mike would wait for her.
Forever.
Chapter Eighteen
Bella tossed a carton of juice in her cart. She was dying for some ice cream, but it wasn’t good—for her throat or her figure. Damn. She stood in front of the freezer and studied the offerings anyway. So many flavors, and all tempting her to break the rules. In all honesty, she deserved a little treat. She hadn’t wished for Mike all day. She’d thought about it, but didn’t go through with it.
She had her eye on caramel swirl, when she caught Cassandra’s reflection in the glass. She stood at the other end of the isle, looking Bella’s way. Busted. Not interested in a sermon about the evil of unsaturated fats, Bella slid to the next freezer and pretended to ponder seafood, before turning to wave at her manager.
She’d been wrong. Cassandra wasn’t looking at her, but glaring at a man to Bella’s right. A man Bella had seen before.
The gorgeous stranger she’d met at the bar, weeks ago. His cornflower-blue eyes were impossible to forget.
&n
bsp; What were the odds Cassandra knew him?
Bella didn’t know why, but she didn’t want Cassandra to see her watching. She ducked behind her cart, as Cassandra strode past and to the man. The same impulse made her leave her shopping behind and follow the two when Cassandra pulled the man around the corner. Bella was hidden from their view by shelves of cereal, but she could see their faces.
“No need to get violent,” the man said. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.” His grin was the opposite of Cassandra’s frown.
“Why are you here?” Cassandra asked. “You lost. They’re not getting back together, despite your best efforts. Fate has lost, and you finally have to leave me alone.”
“You know they’re both in pain when they’re apart.” He reached for her cheek, but Cassandra slapped his hand away.
“Ana is fine,” she said. “She’s getting her future back, and soon she’ll find someone else.”
Bella tried to make sense of what she heard. Cassandra had a hand in her breakup with Mike? This was impossible. She and Cassandra hadn’t seen each other in years. Bella was the one who approached Cassandra, not the other way around.
“But she’s not happy.” The man turned to look straight at Bella. “Are you?”
Cassandra twirled her way too, and her face… rippled. For a split second, it morphed into a much younger visage. One Bella couldn’t forget since seeing it on her phone. It was the woman Mike had cheated with.
Bella felt her jaw drop. “What the hell is going on? Cassandra?” She looked around, to see if anyone else had noticed, but nobody even glanced their way.
“Don’t worry. They no longer… perceive us. We can have this little chat undisturbed.” Still smiling, the man grabbed Cassandra’s wrist. “I always find it funny that you keep your name when dealing with mortals,” he said. “Now tell Anabella what a bad girl you’ve been.”
“Let me go,” Cassandra said, but his hold was so tight, his knuckles turned white.
“Tell her, or I will,” he said.
Cassandra shut her mouth, her gaze defiant and stubborn. She looked young again, but no longer like Mike’s lover—thank God.
“Okay,” the man said. “First, let me introduce myself. I’ve had many names through the years, but you know me as Xochipilli.”
This wasn’t happening. Bella was asleep again.
“You’re not dreaming, Anabella. Cassandra is the woman I told you about. The one who won’t take me back, even though I love her more than life.”
Cassandra made a disgusted sound in her throat and rolled her eyes.
“It’s true, you stubborn woman.” He turned back to Bella. “She and I made a pact recently, after playing Tug of War for thousands of years.”
“Thousands of years. Because you’re an ancient god, and she is…?”
“My destiny,” he said.
Not very specific, but seeing he wouldn’t elaborate, Bella asked, “What was the pact?”
“Tired of dancing around each other for this long—”
“There was no dancing. You were harassing me.”
Xochipilli ignored Cassandra’s protest and continued. “We decided to choose a couple fated to be together, and see how they dealt with hardship and temptation. If they defied destiny and were better off apart, I’d stop pursuing her. If she lost, she’d give me another chance.”
So, if Bella was to believe him… “You played with us?”
“That wasn’t our agreement.” Xochipilli gave Cassandra a stern look. “We were supposed to put temptation in your path and observe, not interfere further. When she took it upon herself to make you think Mike cheated, I did my best to get you to remember your love and how he couldn’t have betrayed you.”
There were two apparently immortal beings standing before her, and the only thing Bella could think to ask was, “Mike didn’t cheat?”
“Cassandra, tell the young lady. Now, please.”
Still not looking at her, Cassandra said, “I flirted with him in London. Tried to get him to come home with me, but he wouldn’t. He never touched me. The pictures were fabricated.”
“But I had them analyzed.”
“Technology recognizes technology,” Xochipilli said, “and Angela had no reason to look for magic.”
Angela?
Angie.
“Why would you do this?” Bella asked Cassandra. She hated the tremble in her voice, but it wasn’t weakness. It was suppressed anger. She wanted to choke the bitch.
“I thought you’d be better off without him,” Cassandra whispered.
“No, you didn’t. You only cared about winning your stupid bet.”
“She’s done worse, to prove a point,” Xochipilli said. “She turned a poor man into a dog for six months.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t to prove a point. I loved him.”
Bella had enough. “You two deserve each other,” she said. “You may have lived thousands of years, but you have no clue what love is.”
Xochipilli’s smile vanished. “I swear I tried to help you.”
“You wouldn’t have had to, if you hadn’t forced my arm,” Cassandra told him.
“Instead of sending me to the past, you could have told me he never cheated,” Bella said.
“And forfeited the bet,” Cassandra said.
“You did that when you sent those pictures,” he replied.
Cassandra shook her head. “You should have said so then, instead of going along with it. Doesn’t count now.”
“I wanted you to see fate always wins, no matter how you try to avoid it. And your fate is to be with me.” Xochipilli let go of Cassandra’s hand and brushed his fingertips over her cheek.
Cassandra glared but didn’t pull away from his touch. “So you keep saying, but I can’t see it.”
He smiled again. “Just one date. Let me win you back.”
Bella threw her arms in the air. “Shut up, both of you. God, you guys are terrible.”
Xochipilli tried to say something. “I said, shut up,” Bella yelled. She was being disrespectful to a deity with the ability to send her to the past. He could probably obliterate her, but she was done with him and his psycho-ex. “I’ve heard enough. I have to talk to Mike.”
She left them to their bickering and hurried out of the supermarket, dialing Mike’s number from memory. Deleting him from her contacts had served no real purpose, but she’d done it in her effort to erase him from her life.
Her call went to voicemail, and she growled. She needed to get a hold of him.
Doubt inched its way into her thoughts. She’d turned him down repeatedly and refused to listen to his claims of innocence. What would she say now? Would the truth do, wacky as it was? She hadn’t believed him. Why would he believe her?
It didn’t matter. She’d try. He had, when the odds were against him.
She dialed again. Same result.
She swallowed her ego and called Tanya, who remained one of Mike’s best friends and was more likely to talk to Bella than Derek was.
“Bella,” Tanya said. “This is a surprise.”
“I know. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“No bother. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”
Bella shook her head, though she wasn’t on video call and Tanya couldn’t see her. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. I just need to find Mike. I’ve made a terrible mistake.” She stopped herself before saying more. Mike was the one she owned an explanation to.
“He’s in London.”
It wasn’t his usual visit, unless he’d changed his schedule. “Isn’t it too early in the month?”
Tanya was quiet long enough for Bella to get antsy. Then she said, “I thought you knew. He’s moving there.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. And Bella didn’t have his European cell number, because how many digits could she have memorized? “Can you text me his contact info there, please? It’s urgent.” After kicking him out of their plac
e and selling it, Bella now wanted him to scrap his plans about moving to England and start over with her. When they were officially divorced.
Worst timing ever.
Tanya forwarded her his electronic data, but Mike didn’t answer any of the eighteen times she tried him. It occurred to her that it was three in the morning for him, and he was probably asleep, but she kept trying until she got home, despite her car’s electronic voice insisting she not talk and drive.
She got to her loft and headed straight for Xochipilli’s statue, or where it had last been. It wasn’t there. Or anywhere.
She called Mike again. And again. And several times in a row, but he was unreachable. When she felt her eyelids grow heavy, she wished she could visit past-Mike. Perhaps Xochipilli was still listening.
Chapter Nineteen
Mike was about to give up and go home. He’d had enough teasing for the night, and Ana obviously wasn’t going to show.
The kitchen closed a few minutes ago, so his plans for a romantic dinner were spoiled. They were too farfetched anyway. Why would she have dinner with a stranger? And a crazy one at that?
Not that he wouldn’t come back tomorrow. And the day after that. And when he started his shifts again until he left for London, he’d glance at the door every so often. Because he knew she’d come. She had to. They were meant to be. They’d fallen in love before, overcoming time itself.
Ana would come.
Just not tonight.
He called Mario over and asked for a third Espresso. “For the road.”
Pity swam in Mario’s eyes. “You got it, man.” He returned soon, holding another steaming, tiny cup.
Espresso was supposed to be gulped down, but Mike took his time with it. As much as his mind told him tonight wasn’t his night, his body refused to carry him away from the chance to see Ana.
His body knew best. It tensed at the gust of air whooshing in, before Ana stepped in, her long hair flying around her face. She held her skirt down with one hand, fighting the wind that seemed to want to undress her.
Or take her to Mike as soon as possible.
The door thumped her forward and slid shut, and the wind died together with all sound from the kitchen. The brigade fell silent, everyone’s attention on Ana.
