The Solemn Vow

by Bree Dahlia

  “I’d already started over. I was with Cain. There was no need to come back until there was a good reason to.”

  He nods, inflaming my curiosity like some insidious disease. Just as my mom kept me apprised during those first years, I wonder if Sarah did the same with him.

  “So things are okay, then, with Cain?”

  I bend down and pluck a rock out of the dirt. “You’ve already asked me that, and the answer is still the same.” I remain crouched on the ground as if I’m searching for buried treasure, a key to unlock a different subject. “You were gone a number of years too. Any plans to return to Chicago after…?”

  I close my eyes, digging my fingers into the soil. Fuck. As much as I want to go there, I do not want to go there.

  “After the divorce?” he asks. He must take my silence as confirmation because he continues. “No. Reyna might since she has family there, but not me. Just like you, my heart is here. I’m staying.”

  I stand and dust off my hands. “That’s where you’re wrong, Jake. My heart is wherever Cain is. It doesn’t matter where we live.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “No, you don’t mean to do anything, do you?”

  His eyes widen. My string just snapped. “Maddie—”

  “You never meant for anything to happen, but it did.” My voice rises, but I beat it down. Along with my urge to pummel his chest with my fists. I don’t need an audience. “And no amount of apologizing can ever make up for it.” He shattered my heart for what? Just to get fucking divorced?

  “Please.” He puts his hands on my arms, but I bat them away.

  “You really, really hurt me.” A torrent is rushing to escape through my lids, but I contain it. “You broke me,” I whisper.

  He bows his head for a moment. “I know. God, I know. And I am so—”

  “Don’t you dare.” I stick my finger in his face. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry one more time.” I start to shake. “I don’t care to rehash the details. Do you think it hurt me any less knowing you didn’t mean it?”

  “No, I would never think that.”

  He sounds pained, and I beg to receive some pleasure from it, but my emotional cyclone isn’t permitting the reprieve.

  “This is a case where it’s not the intention that matters but the action.” I need water, but I’ve already guzzled all mine, and I’m not asking for his. The sun is baking my shirt into my back, and I’m both sticky and parched. This beautiful, perfect day has turned into a Hell pit.

  “I know. Please believe me, I know.”

  “You may have broken me, but you know what? Cain was the one who put me back together. He’s the one who was there for me when you weren’t.”

  “And no matter what, I’ll always be thankful to him for that.”

  “What? No.” I squeeze my hands into fists and press them into my thighs. “You don’t get to be thankful. You don’t get to be anything regarding me or my life. You lost the right to have any concern for me seven years ago.”

  “I’ll always care.” He reaches for me again, and I step back, letting my eyes drift to his tattoo for the first time today. What’s the point of successfully ignoring it when I end up failing at the most crucial time? “Please don’t tell me not to because I’ll never stop.”

  I shake my head. No no no. Any feelings are off-limits. They have to be. I’m married to Cain. He’s married to Reyna. Technically.

  “Why the hell are you separated anyway?” I blurt out, my palm itching to slap. There should be a rule: If you make a decision that devastates another, you can’t go back on that decision. Ever.

  “It… just didn’t work out.”

  “That’s fucked up, Jake.” I push against his chest. “Why? Why didn’t it work? She’s the one you wanted.” I shove him and he grabs my wrists.

  “That’s not true.”

  “She’s—”

  “Not you.” I freeze, my pulse rising higher to connect with his touch, even as I wrestle it to the ground. “You want to know why it didn’t work, Maddie? Because she’s not you.”

  My tongue is reminiscent of a dentist visit. I can’t form words. He tugs me against him, and I crash, burn, melt. “Jake” ends up spilling from my mouth, but that’s the best I can do.

  “Forgive me,” he says, his arms tightening. I don’t know if he’s asking forgiveness for hurting me then or hugging me now.

  I press my face to his chest and breathe him in. So familiar. His embrace, his scent, his heartbeat. I lift my head, drink in his eyes, and forget what he did. And when he brushes his lips against mine, I forget who I am.

  Because he tastes like home.

  Twelve

  “No holy water?”

  “Damn, I knew I forgot something.”

  I pick up a metal rod. “I can tell you exactly where the well is. You don’t need to dowse for it.”

  Rowan snatches it from me. “That’s not what it’s for. And you’re holding it wrong.” She places it back in my hand with it facing downward. “See, like this.”

  I wave it around. “And this will show us where the ghosts are? Ooh, I hope they stashed away some money and can lead us to it.”

  She rolls her eyes, taking it from me again. “It’s not a toy, Mads.”

  I grab a couple bottles of iced tea from the fridge, handing her one. “I still can’t believe you brought all this stuff.”

  “It’s not that much.”

  On my kitchen table sits a camcorder, dowsing rods, a tape recorder, a massive bundle of herbs, and several other thingies that I have no clue what they are. Yeah, not much at all.

  “We have reservations at seven. When are you going to have time for ghostbusting?”

  “There’s time. Or else tomorrow. And I’ll definitely make sure to sage before I leave.”

  “Um, thanks?” I perch on a chair and watch her walk around with her rods as I stifle a giggle. I know she takes this stuff seriously, but does she have to be so theatrical?

  She disappears around the corner, and it takes me a whole two seconds before my phone’s in my hand. Just because I haven’t replied doesn’t mean I haven’t read it an abundance of times.

  I can’t stop thinking about you, Maddie. Right or wrong, it’s how I feel.

  The text came in late last night. Cain wasn’t home, and I thought about responding right then. But I didn’t know what to say, and I still don’t.

  “That’s a hostile tree you have out in front,” Rowan calls from wherever.

  “The hawthorn?”

  “Yeah. It could be a portal.”

  I look back at my phone. “It’s not a portal.” Just a freakish tree with knobby bark that looks like tormented faces.

  I don’t hear from her for a good ten minutes before she yells out, “What happened in the basement?”

  I perk up. “Basement?”

  “Come here, and bring my camera.”

  I’m not sure if she means the camcorder or her cell phone, so I bring both. I enter the hallway as she’s coming up the stairs.

  “Check this out.” She stands at the railing, extending her arms, and the rods go nuts.

  “Stop messing around,” I say. She’s creeping me out. This is where I found Cain wandering around our first night.

  “I’m not. Look, it’s this whole area.” She takes her phone and snaps a row of pictures. “I bet something occurred here. If not in the house, then on the land before it was built.” Click, click, click. “There’re a lot of effigy mounds in this area, you know.”

  I need to put a stop to this, if only to calm my jitters. “It just has a weird vibe because of the slanted walls and the dirt cellar. I don’t get the feeling that anything sinister happened.”

  She tucks her phone away and holds up the rods again. And once again, they act like they’re on crack. “To be honest, I’m not sensing anything either, but these babies don’t lie. You see how they spin.”

  “Maybe they’re detecting water.”

  She
shakes her head. “That’s not the question I asked.”

  I don’t want to know what the question is. I might not be able to sleep tonight. “So, what’s this for?” I lift the camcorder.

  “We can leave that and the voice recorder running when we’re not around. It might pick something up.” She hands me the rods, but I hold them like they’re contaminated. Then she takes her phone back out and scrolls through the pictures. “Hmm. Nothing’s showing up here. Maybe we’ll catch something later.”

  “I'm not sure how Cain will feel about running surveillance in his home for the purpose of ‘catching’ a ghost.”

  Then again, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I never know what he does when he roams in the middle of the night.

  “Where is Cain? I was hoping to see him.”

  “You mean you want to make sure he’s not speaking in tongues.” I wave her out of the hall. No need to hang around longer than necessary. “I’m sure you’ll see him before the weekend’s done.”

  Like I’d hoped, he did sleep in this morning, and then he was gone before Rowan arrived. Mumbled something about going to the hardware store. The entire back parlor is in shambles. What the hell he’s doing, I haven’t a clue.

  We return to the kitchen where my phone is beckoning me. I read the text again.

  “Ready to head out?” she asks, her long dark hair swinging as she dances around. “Oh wait! Give me a second first.” She grabs the recorder and runs toward the hall.

  “Hurry up,” I yell, shoving my phone in my purse.

  “I put it by the basement,” she says, returning. “We can listen when we get back.”

  “I’ll make the popcorn.” But I swear, if we hear anything talking through that thing, I’m moving in with Rowan.

  We get in the car for our thirty-minute drive, and I consider telling her about Jake. Instead, I listen to her fired-up chatter. I smile and nod and comment and try to be the best friend I can in spite of my sidetracking thoughts.

  “Man, I really wish this place were still a B&B,” she says as we’re pulling up. “We could’ve spent the night in the red room.”

  “Yeah, too bad.” In other words: Thank God. The mansion had an electrical fire a decade ago, and they never reopened the rooms, keeping it only as a restaurant. Fine by me. I’m not a believer, but I wouldn’t say I’m a disbeliever either. I don’t need the skeptic scared out of me by finding some dead woman’s century-old blood in the bathtub.

  I park, and we walk the path to the massive front door surrounded by brick. I really hope they put us in the correct spot. When I called, I couldn’t exactly tell them my friend wanted to try trespassing up the stairs so we needed those seats.

  We go through a vestibule and into a large foyer where the hostess sits.

  “God, Mads.” Rowan grabs my arm. “The pictures online do not do this place justice.”

  I agree. It’s gorgeous. And immaculate. And it’s around the same age as my house. What the hell?

  A lady wearing 1900s garb materializes out of nowhere, spooking the bejeezus out of me. Rowan laughs at my reaction and I pinch her. She’s rubbing off on me way too much.

  We follow her to our table, my heels catching on the plush carpet so many times I consider taking them off. I don’t want to crack my head open and join the commune here.

  “Excuse me,” I say when the woman begins setting menus down. “I asked about getting a table toward the back.” I point at the gothic staircase.

  She pauses and then nods, leading us over. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. How many others come to the restaurant for the purpose of not eating? “I did my part,” I whisper to Rowan as we near our spot, “so don’t do anything to get us kicked out of here.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  We sit down and I start paging through the menu. I can’t put aside how outrageously expensive everything is, and I hate how I’m worrying about what Cain will say when he sees the bill. I never once had to feel this way before.

  “Wow, check out that fireplace.” I focus on Rowan’s beaming face and decide I don’t care. If it’s not this, he’ll find something else to bitch about. “Holy shit! I think that’s the mirror.”

  I follow her gaze to a large antique oval mirror hanging not too far from us. While she can’t take her eyes off it, I can barely keep my eyes on it. Creepy. And let’s say the blue lady does appear—what then? Would she take you with her? No, thanks.

  I grab the drink menu. There’s only one kind of spirit I’m interested in right now.

  After we place our order, Rowan sneaks off to the bathroom and I’m left with my thoughts once again. It’s hard enough battling them when she’s around, but when I’m alone? It’s torture. I open my purse and peek through without pulling out my phone, checking if he texted again. But why would he? I haven’t responded yet.

  “Can you frickin’ believe it?” I jump at her voice beside me, shoving my purse to the ground. “The stairs are roped off toward the top.” She humphs and plops down, crossing her arms.

  “I’m sorry.” I put my hand on her arm. “But it’s probably not safe for people to go wandering around. Hey, maybe someday they’ll decide to open it back up again. If that happens, we’ll be the first in line.”

  “Yeah.” She smiles. “Upstairs is supposed to have the most activity, but there’re still some other places to investigate. Hang out in the lounge after dinner? Then tomorrow you can show me around the city before I leave.”

  “Sure, sounds good.”

  I wasn’t up for going to a bunch of college bars tonight anyway. We take our time, eating our delicious but tiny-portioned dinner, and my only concern is being hungry again in an hour. Not Cain. Not money. Not work. Not Jake… much.

  Afterward, we kick back in their bar area. It’s another perfect chance to confess, but I let the opportunity pass by. I usually have no problem telling her anything, but this time I’m struggling. I’m also not proud of myself.

  Because when she excuses herself to investigate another bathroom, I text him back.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  I’m wondering the same thing. My knees are bobbing, so I clamp down on them hard. Rowan rewinds the recorder, then presses Play again.

  It sounds exactly the same as the first time we listened. A loud, very noticeable crash comes through the speakers. So loud that it’s crazy it never woke us up. According to the timer, it occurred near 4:00 a.m. I’ll have to ask Cain. Maybe he was knocking down a wall.

  She groans. “I can’t believe the camcorder died out before then.”

  I can’t believe we’ve been listening to dead air all morning. “When I see Cain, I’ll ask if he was doing anything. He’s usually up around then.”

  “Okay.” She sets her equipment aside. “I’ll do a cleansing before I go, and I’d also like to take more pictures.”

  I nod, wondering when I will see Cain. He was sleeping when we got back last night, and this morning he yelled out a quick hello to Rowan before leaving. Of course, she noticed his lack of usual affection for me and confirmed that something’s amiss.

  “Haunted or not, we’ll get this figured out, Mads.”

  I don’t respond, too keyed up over the direction my life is heading. If I open my mouth, I’m not sure what will spew out.

  I feel the same.

  I zero in on the text when she turns her back, regretting my words for the umpteenth time. Someone needs to design a “take it back” button. If I ever invented that, I could remodel this house a million times over and still have money left to roll in.

  “What are you nervous about?”

  The phone bounces off my lap when I jump. “What?”

  She picks it up, but thankfully the screen’s already dark. “Your nails look disgusting.”

  “Thanks.” I slide the phone into my purse and stand. Rowan pulls me in for a hug.

  “No idea what the hell’s going on with him, but it’ll all work out. Trust me.”

  I smil
e. She assumes Cain’s making me strung out, which is the partial truth. How would I handle this situation differently if I weren’t married?

  That dilemma bangs away at me all the way to The Terrace in the city.

  “You need me to drive?”

  I glance over. “No, why?”

  “You’re a little whacked out today.”

  I snicker. “Just today? Good thing I hid it so well yesterday or you would’ve really been scared to be in a car with me.” Little does she know I’m not joking.

  “Where’re we going again?”

  “I thought we’d start off at the campus union. There’s a terrace right up next to the shore, and we can grab some drinks and food. If it gets too hot, there’s also a beer hall.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She lowers the window and sticks her head out, the breeze whipping my hair around my face.

  “Aren’t you worried you’ll run into your ex?”

  I nearly choke on a strand. “Huh?”

  “Your ex. Didn’t you say he lives downtown?”

  “Then I’ll introduce you. He’ll be single soon.”

  “Very funny.”

  No, it’s not. I drum my fingers on the wheel and keep my mouth shut. Another moment lost with the wind.

  I park at the ramp on Lake Street, and we go the rest of the way on foot, my chameleon-like eyes darting every which way. I am worried, but not for reasons Rowan might think. I’m not sure what would stress me out more—crossing paths with Jake before I confess to my best friend or coming face-to-face with her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “You keep asking me that.”

  “You keep giving me reason to.”

  I rub my arms briskly as if it’s nine degrees instead of ninety. “Jake’s not the only one back, you know. His soon-to-be ex-wife is too.”

  “And?”

  “And I’d prefer not to see her, or for her to see me.”

  “From what you told me, would she even recognize you?”

  Doesn’t matter. I’d recognize her. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m probably overreacting.”