Then There Was You (Twist of Fate)

by A. J. Daniels

  I laugh and decide to take pity on him. “You really don’t have to do this, babe.” I blanch at the term of endearment that managed to sneak its way past my tongue, but Nate doesn’t seem to notice my slip up, and neither does Chantel.

  “Ja-nee, I told you I would do this with you.”

  Water sprays up the side of the boat and we all look over just in time to see a fin descend back below the surface. Nate visibly swallows but continues to zip up his suit before sitting down to pull on a swim fin. Chris goes on to tell us that since there’s only three of us diving today we’ll get extra time in the cage which kicks my level of excitement up another notch. The cage they have attached to the boat is big enough to fit five people and usually they have a lot more divers which limits each person’s time in the cage to about twenty minutes. I don’t know why not many people signed up to go diving today but hell, I’m not complaining. My shark loving heart is on cloud nine right now and the more time I can get in that cage the better.

  For our first dive, Chris jumps in with us. Once the three of us are in, another guy lowers the lid of the cage, closing us in. The cold is an instant jolt to my system but after a few seconds I begin to relax and start to enjoy being back in the water. All I can see for miles on either side of the cage, is empty ocean. I chance a quick glance down, knowing a Great White’s propensity for attacking from the bottom but don’t see anything, which in itself should kick my nervousness into hyperdrive but it doesn’t. Then I look over at Nate who’s practically plastered himself to the side of the cage that backs into the boat and I can’t help the grin that threatens to spread my lips. It’s not the first time I’ve realized that this man would literally do anything for me, and if going cage diving with one of the world’s biggest predators isn’t proof of that, then I don’t know what is.

  As if I thought it into being, I see movement from my peripheral and turn back to the front of the cage in time to see a thirty-foot Great White swim past us, its dorsal fin slightly breaking the surface.

  Fuck, that’s a big mammal.

  If someone were to tell me that I would be in a cage, in False Bay with the guy from Shark Week while having an up-close view at a Great White shark, I would’ve laughed in their face and told them they were crazy. Other people’s dreams come true. Other people get to cross items off their bucket list, but not me. Yet here I am at twenty-nine living a dream I’ve had since I was a little girl sitting in the back seat of my mom’s blue Reno and spotted what looked like a shark in the ocean below while we drove along one of the mountain passes.

  This is living.

  Nate manages to peel himself away from the back of the cage long enough to take a picture of me with his Go-Pro, when the same shark makes another pass by the cage. I continue staring at him even after he lowers the camera. Why is it that I’m more afraid of the man in front of me and what he can do to my heart than the shark swimming behind me?

  Something curls around my heart and squeezes; I push up to the surface and let out the breath I’d been holding. I’m panting and the pressure around my heart continues to increase. I need to get out of the water. I need to get back on solid ground both figuratively and literally. I push on the lid of the cage, grateful when it lifts easily and then haul myself up and back into the boat, taking in gulps of fresh air.

  Fuck, I know I had lamented about death coming unexpectedly but this was not how I wanted to go. If this was God’s idea of a sick joke, He and I were going to have words.

  “You okay?” Nate asks, coming to sit beside me on one of the two benches. Chantel still has her nose buried in her phone and doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply, wrapping my arms around myself. “My hands were starting to go numb,” I say by way of explanation when Nate continues looking at me in that way of his that says he doesn’t completely believe me. I cup both hands and bring them to my mouth to blow on them and rub them together to emphasize that I really was telling the truth.

  Nate takes my hands in his equally cold ones and lifts them to his lips, but then it’s like he remembers where we are and he drops my hands instantly, swallowing hard as he glances over at his fiancée who still hasn’t looked up. I have a feeling she hasn’t missed anything that’s happened on the boat today though. It’s more like she’s choosing to play the distant and unattached fiancée.

  He gives me a weak smile, then moves to sit beside Chantel, careful not to get her wet with his suit.

  Chapter 30

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Nate asks with a box of my stuff under his arm.

  I take one last look around the house that holds so many memories of my childhood, of meeting Nate, of Jack... I wipe away the lone tear that manages to sneak its way down my cheek and nod, bending down to pick up the last box.

  “I am. It’s time to move on,” I say, turning to lead the way out of the front door and to the waiting bukkie piled high with my belongings.

  I was hesitant to move at first because Nate had done so much work around this house when we first met. He reassured me that my mental health was worth more than a few pieces of wood. He can always rebuild certain pieces for me, but he can’t rebuild me and if the memory of finding Jack’s body hanging in the carport is going to hinder me from moving on then… well, then it is better to let some other family build their happy memories here unplagued by the tragedy. Plus, I’d be closer to my parents in Simon’s Town since Dad ended up finding an apartment in an area close to my mom’s place.

  Nate packs the last of the boxes in the cab of the bukkie while I take one more look at the front of the house, committing it all to memory one last time.

  “Ready?” He pulls me into his side and places a kiss on the top of my head.

  “Yeah, I think I am,” I say leaning into him.

  “Good, ‘cause I’m starving,” he says patting his belly.

  I laugh, “When are you never starving?”

  Nate pauses on his way to the driver’s side. “Good point. How about a braai and beers by the pool?”

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” I grin, pulling myself up and into the passenger seat. “Are you ever going to get a step ladder for this thing?”

  Nate laughs then shrugs turning up the music instead of answering me. I huff, crossing my arms over my chest and look out the window, watching the cream painted houses pass by in a blur.

  It feels so surreal moving out of this neighbourhood for a second time, out of the same house for a second time. But it also feels like a new beginning. One I’m looking forward to exploring. As the houses begin to turn into freeway, I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. My body giving in to the tiredness of packing and moving over the last few days.

  What feels like minutes later, I feel the bukkie lurch to a stop and when I crack my eyes open, the double garage and huge white columns of the new house greet me.

  “I’ll help you get the rest of the stuff inside then I’ll go get some meat for the braai,” Nate says, turning off the engine and pushing open his door.

  I sigh, my head rolling side to side against the headrest. I’m already so drained from the long morning and afternoon of moving, I’m considering leaving all the shit in the bukkie and letting Nate borrow my car to go get us dinner, but I know the sooner we get all this inside, the sooner I can set up my bedroom and relax for the night.

  I never really worried about getting a new house set up the first night of being in it. Except for my bedroom. I couldn’t go to sleep that first night without my bed being set up and made as well as my clothes in their respective drawers or in the closet. The kitchen, living room, dining room, and bathroom could all wait until the next day or the day after that as long as I have the basics.

  Nate gins as I drop a lighter box just inside the front door and sigh heavily. “Let me guess, you want to set up the bedroom and leave everything else for tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.”

  Nate takes in the bright entranceway, high c
eilings, and the reclaimed wooden stairs that spiral up to the second floor from the right, just beyond the living room. The staircase and the view of the ocean from the upstairs bedroom are a couple of the reasons why I chose this house above the other two that were for sale on the same street. Apart from the fact that it doesn’t resemble the previous house in the least. Where that house was tile and dark walls -- except for the kitchen -- this one is all gleaming wooden floors and bright colours. And I’m not going to lie, the pool in the backyard was a major selling point. The kitchen counter is all white marble too which makes the space look brighter. And the view of the ocean from the master bedroom is one I could get used to waking up to every morning.

  We manage to get the bedframe, box spring, and mattress out of the bukkie and upstairs to the master bedroom. Correction, Nate and Xander do most of the heavy lifting, once he finally showed up. I’m just here to make sure the ends don’t drag on the new flooring and to help direct them up the stairs.

  “Hey, Nate,” I call towards the living room where Nate’s walking through to get more stuff out of the vehicle.

  Xander had to run out after helping with the bed and the couch, something about an emergency at the construction site he’s been working at this week.

  “What’s up?” he says, poking his head around the kitchen where I have a box open on the counter and am pulling out plates and cutlery for us.

  “Can you get me a potato salad?” In all honesty, I should probably just make it from scratch but I’m tired and the potatoes take forever to boil and then cool enough to mix with the mayonnaise and green onions.

  “Sure thing. With or without egg?”

  I scrunch up my nose and Nate laughs, rasping his knuckle against the door frame before turning and walking back through the house and out the door.

  Wait, he’s not getting the one with egg in it, is he? I rush after him and catch him just as he climbs into the bukkie.

  “The one without egg, right?”

  He chuckles again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says, reaching to close the door.

  “Nate!”

  The ass is still laughing as he backs down the driveway and then heads off in the direction of the Spar a few blocks away.

  * * *

  “You know what this place is missing?” Nate asks, leaning back on a beach lounger with a beer in hand and his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

  “What’s that?”

  “A dog.” He grins a mischievous smile when I groan.

  “I am not getting a dog.”

  “And why not?” he whines.

  I roll my eyes. “School holidays are almost done, and I’ll be heading back to work soon. I won’t have time to house train a puppy or take it on walks.”

  He shrugs like he sees nothing wrong with that. “We could co-parent on the evenings and weekends. I’m sure your parents will happily dog sit during the week.”

  “Nathan,” I groan. “We are not going to co-parent a puppy. Plus, what kind would we even get?”

  “I’ve always wanted a German Shepherd.”

  “A German Shepherd?”

  He nods enthusiastically like a little kid who was just told they get to go to the toy store and pick out their favourite toy. “And we can name him Duke.”

  “Duke?” I ask, still bewildered that we’re even having this conversation.

  “Cause he’ll be the prince of both houses.” Nate’s grin grows into a smile revealing his perfectly white teeth and I can’t help but stare at him a little too long. His skin has a soft glow to it, like the beginning of a tan. His hair is a little longer on the top than it usually is, but I think I like it better this way. It gives him a sort of boyish charm.

  “I’m not getting a dog,” I say again.

  He doesn’t respond to my protest, but then he’s suddenly standing by my chair, his beer bottle now sitting on the small table between the two chairs.

  “Let’s go swimming,” he says, extending his hand to help me up.

  The speed with which he’s changed conversation topics today has given me whiplash. I’m about to ask him what’s up with him today when he begins prowling towards me.

  “Nate… what are you doing?”

  He lunges towards me, gripping me under my arms and lifting me up. I squeal and automatically wrap my legs around his waist.

  “Nathaniel!” I screech as he stalks towards the pool. “Don’t you dare.”

  He readjusts his hold under my arms, but I know what he’s about to do -- it’s exactly what my cousins did to me as a kid – and I scramble to tighten my arms around his neck so he can’t throw me in without falling in with me.

  “Annika,” he laughs. “Don’t think I won’t jump in with you wrapped around me.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  His eyes sparkle and I realize the mistake of my words. Nate never backs down from a challenge, and this one is no different.

  “Ah, shit.” I bury my nose in the curve of his neck and take a breath right as I feel him move towards the deep end of the pool and jump.

  As soon as we’re submerged under the water, Nate doesn’t let me go. A hand sneaks around to grip the back of my neck to hold me to him and then his lips are descending on mine. Nate kisses me like our lives depend on us sharing breath. I tighten my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, reveling in the feel of him. God, I missed this. I missed his hands on my body, his mouth moving against mine. This feels so good, and so so wrong.

  When I push him away, he reluctantly lets me go and I swim up to the surface, hauling myself out of the pool and through the back door in search of a towel.

  “Annika!” he calls behind me, but I don’t stop. “Annika, please just stop.” I hear him enter the house after me. His wet feet are slapping against the tile of the kitchen.

  When I reach the linen closet upstairs, I grab a towel and wrap it around myself, feeling securely armed enough to face him now. When I turn to round on him, I’m taken aback by how close he is behind me. It takes me a minute to find my voice after stumbling back a foot or two.

  “You’re engaged, Nate.”

  “I know,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

  “To be married,” I stress.

  “Fuck, I know, okay. It’s just having you in my arms again…” he trails off.

  “Look, I know the waters of our relationship were muddied a little when Jack showed up, but I’m really not this girl, Nate. I don’t kiss engaged men.”

  Nate looks down at me and the hurt look in his eyes makes me want to take him in my arms again and hold him close.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Nika.”

  I sigh and decide to say fuck it, stepping close to him and wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “You won’t lose me, but I think we should probably just stay friends.”

  He lets out a pained sound but eventually encircles me in his arms. “If that’s the only way I can have you then I’ll take it.” He fiddles with my necklace until the map of South Africa lays perfectly flat just below my throat.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, choking back tears against his chest.

  “I am too.”

  Chapter 31

  “I’m back, bitches!” My best friend announces as soon as she enters the main terminal.

  Rolling my eyes, I go up to welcome her with a hug and take over rolling her big suitcase. You’d think she was here to stay and not just on vacation for two weeks with how heavy this thing is.

  “Londyn, you’ve been here at least once a year since you moved to London.” I giggle. “Londyn from London.”

  Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes. “How long have you been holding that in?”

  I snort. “A few months.”

  “You’re such a comedian, Nik, Where’s X?” she asks looking around the now empty airport.

  “He’s meeting us back at the house. He was going to braai, but I thought we could all hit the beach then maybe check out one
of the pubs in Simon’s Town?”

  She shrugs, adjusting the strap of her flowy tank top. “Sounds good to me. I got plenty of sleep on the plane so I’m good to go.”

  “Ugh, I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Sleep on the plane. I never can. I’m almost worried I’m going to snore and then people will be silently judging me the rest of the flight.”

  She laughs, grabbing hold of the other end of the suitcase and helping me lift it into the boot of the car. “You’re right. They probably would.”

  “Hey!”

  “What? You said it. I’m just agreeing with you. Isn’t that what best friends do?”

  I huff and start up the engine. “You could’ve said something like, ‘you don’t snore, bestie.’”

  “Fine,” she sighs like being my friend is such an inconvenience. She’s convincing too and I would have believed it if I hadn’t known her for fifteen years. “You don’t snore, bestie.”

  I grin and bat my eyelashes at her while I wait for the light to change. “Was that so hard?”

  “Brutal.”

  We lock eyes and then we both burst out laughing just as the light changes. Londyn and I drop off her shit at my house in Simon’s Town and fetch Xander before picking up wood for a fire later tonight as well as other bonfire essentials.

  “I can’t remember the policy of fires on the beach but if it turns out it’s not allowed then we’ll just head back here. Sound good?”

  “Aye, aye, Cap,” Londyn says from the back seat.