“No, darling. I just need to be alone for a little while. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
I walked out quickly, my gaze darting right and left as though I was being followed by demons. And in a way, I was. Followed by the demons from my past, demons I had created myself.
I stopped by my apartment, where I packed some clothes, toiletries, and my laptop. I left Mom a note saying I planned to have lots of fun with Belle and that I loved her. When I climbed back into my car again, it was just over two p.m. The sun was scorching, making my eyes slant even under the dark lenses of my sunglasses. I stopped at the gas station to fill my tank, then stopped again at McDonald’s to buy some sandwiches, fries and a Cola.
The thirty mile drive to Tacoma seemed to last a lifetime. The glaring light made my red, swollen eyes sting and water. The steering wheel burned my palms, and in my present state of mind any little discomfort irritated me to the point of physical pain.
I didn’t yet dare think of Blade. I simply blocked my mind, looking straight ahead at the intermittent white road lines.
When I reached Tacoma, I searched for a supermarket. I found one with an underground parking lot and gratefully steered the car to the cool, dimly lighted space. I climbed out and stretched my aching muscles, then grabbed my handbag and secured the car.
The supermarket wasn’t crowded, so I was able to do my shopping quickly. I bought some frozen pizzas, ice cream, three boxes of chocolates, and some other junk foods, as well as several bottles of water.
After loading my bags into my trunk, I uncapped one of the bottles and drank deeply, letting the cold water slide like a balm down my dry, scratchy throat. I got into the car again and started the engine, turning the air conditioning to full blast.
Belle’s parents’ cottage—which was in fact a sort of vacation house—was situated in a quiet area, right near the shore of the North Pacific. I made a couple of wrong turns before I remembered the way to the cottage, which didn’t improve my mood.
Finally, I found the dead-end street that led to the small property. It was a narrow path bordered by trees, which seemed to mark the entry to a miniature urban jungle. The small, single-storey wooden structure surrounded by vegetation looked like a heavenly refuge.
I parked at the end of the driveway, then got out of the car and breathed deeply the fresh, salt-scented air. My hair blew gently in the breeze, which cooled my heated skin. Behind the house I could see the clear blue water stretching endlessly toward the horizon. I couldn’t say I already felt better, but this was a good start.
I blew out a sigh, then headed to the cottage. It was built simply, preserving the rustic look specific to a veritable cottage, but with all the necessary modern amenities. I fished Belle’s keys out of my handbag and unlocked the massive wooden front door.
Inside it smelled of wood and dust. The air wasn’t hot and stale as I expected. All windows were covered by heavy curtains that kept the interior dark, even cool. The furniture was almost entirely made from wood, except for the old TV in the living room. The equally old red leather couch was overflowing with cushions, and the sturdy coffee table facing it was covered with dust.
I walked around the cottage and opened all the windows. The two bedrooms were almost symmetrical, furnished simply with massive beds, roomy closets and a few other basic pieces of furniture. The windows revealed a heart-stopping view of the ocean, where a few boats and ships strayed in the blue abyss.
The cottage didn’t have air conditioning, and didn’t need it. Every room had a dated ceiling fan. I turned on each one of them, then got back to the car and carried inside my groceries and bags. I took my luggage into one of the bedrooms, where I unpacked quickly, placing my clothes in the closet and my laptop on one of the nightstands.
I took my toiletries in the small bathroom down the hallway and arranged them on a shelf. In the kitchen, I plugged in the antique-looking fridge. Relief washed over me when it actually started functioning. I took out the food in the bags and filled the fridge.
Finally, I sat at the wooden table in the corner to eat my sandwich and fries. They tasted fantastic, probably because I hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. My hair fluttered in the draft created by all windows and doors being open. It felt good, the loneliness, the silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. I looked out the window and saw that clouds were gathering on the horizon. The oppressive, hot air could very well predict a violent thunderstorm. I hoped it would rain.
After I finished eating, I grabbed a can of Cola out of the fridge, a bowl of ice cream and a spoon. I took everything in the living room, placed them on the coffee table—which I’d cleaned with an old rag—and groped for a socket to plug in the TV. To my amazement, I discovered a DVD player, which hadn’t been there the last time Belle and I visited the cottage.
On one of the dusty bookshelves I found an impressive collection of movies. I was pleased to find a lot of classics, several of my favorites among them. I chose to watch The Fearless Vampire Killers, an old Roman Polanski parody. I loved that movie because of the atmosphere created by the producers. No ultra-modern special effects, no blowing up cars and naked bimbos, just old cinematography.
I drew the drapes to restore the semi-darkness in the room, then curled up on the sofa with my ice cream. Now that I was here, I could relax.
The thought of Blade and the whole ordeal I’d run away from flashed through my mind and through my heart. It all seemed far away, but not far enough. I surrendered and let everything flood my memory.
I remembered the way he’d kissed me yesterday, then the joy I felt when I decided to try and get him back; the happiness and optimism in my soul when I drove to work that morning; then the shock of hearing Corinne say he was in his office with his wife. I would rather have been stabbed than relive that moment. Then I remembered what Belle said about Blade’s wife looking just like me. Could it be that he’d never really forgotten me? That he’d tried to replace me with another woman?
How unfair for that poor woman! I thought in outrage. But who was I to judge what was fair or not, after the way I’d left him? It had been for his own good, but he didn’t know that. For all he knew, I simply abandoned him because I didn’t love him enough. God, the misery and pain we both endured during those three years had come back to haunt me! Could I have done something different? Should I have stayed and fought for our love, even with the risk of destroying his future?
All of these questions tormented my tortured brain until I fell into a shallow, disturbed sleep.
When I pried my eyes open, the room was completely dark. For a few dazed moments I sat still, not knowing where I was. My memory came back gradually, and with it the dread. I shut my eyes again, wishing very badly I could escape reality, just for a little while. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen, so I rubbed a hand over my face and forced my eyes open.
The TV screen was dark. God knew how long I’d been asleep, but the movie was long over. Outside, darkness had fallen. I stood up and stretched, massaging my sore neck. I felt my way to the terrace doors and opened them wide.
The view that greeted me was like an apocalyptic vision—storm clouds hovered threateningly above, making the sky look dark, except for the brilliant splits of lightning. They were still distant, but the rumbles of thunder were getting closer with each flash. The air was charged with electricity, making the hairs on my body stand on end. It smelled of ozone and ocean.
I walked out on the small terrace, with its two cracked, dusty lounge chairs and a small plastic table. I descended the wooden steps that led straight to the beach. My feet sank into the fine sand. It was warm and humid, enveloping my skin like a lover’s palm. I walked until I was close to the very edge of the coastline, and water crept over my feet and ankles. Offshore, the ocean seemed to be boiling. Huge waves rose and clashed, permanently transforming the roaring entity.
The wind was blowing viciously, making my hair fly in all directions and lash out over my face. I ignored
it and laid down on the sand, staring at the menacing sky. It was a sublime vision, both terrifying and exhilarating to be at the mercy of nature and fully enjoy its power. I sat like that for a while, listening to the roar of thunder and waves, tracing my hands through the sand and looking at the live abyss above, wondering what it would be like to fall right among those streaks of intermittent light that speared the sky.
Suddenly, I was jarred out of my reveries by a huge wave that drenched me and nearly dragged me off the beach with its fluid power. I choked and coughed, trying to get my wet hair out of my eyes. I quickly crawled back to the terrace and dragged myself up the steps, just as the first big drops of rain started to fall.
Once I was up the wooden platform and safe, I stood for a bit, watching the rain. It splattered heavily on the leaves, on the roof, and soaked the trenches I’d made in the sand. A loud clap of thunder nearly made me jump out of my skin.
I turned to go inside and get dry, when I heard a sharp noise. I strained my ears, looking around frantically to see what had caused it. To my disbelief, I spotted a small kitten standing on a corner of the wooden balustrade. It was soaking wet and shivering. When I called out to him, he started caterwauling in panic. I approached him gently, then slid my hand under his belly and cuddled him against my chest. He immediately stopped meowing and leaned into me, hiding his furry little face in my wet T-shirt.
“God, where did you come from?” I mused as I entered the house and closed the terrace doors. I put the small cat on the couch and quickly went to close all the windows and doors. The storm was well on its way by now, and the walls of the little cottage were nearly trembling because of the violent rain and booming thunder.
I got back to the living room and turned on the lights, just to discover that my impromptu companion was gone. I looked around in dismay, then said in a soft whisper, “Hey, kitty, kitty. Where are you?”
After a beat, I saw a whiskered pink nose sticking out from under the sofa. I knelt down and stretched out my hand to him, talking gently. He got out hesitantly and came to sniff at my fingers. The kitten couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Soaking wet as he was, he looked like a large rat, with dirty gray fur and skinny tail, large ears and strong paws.
I took him in my arms. After a few moments of intensive stroking, he began purring harder than a turbo jet engine. He—I turned him over to verify it was a he—must have belonged to one of the neighbors, and got too far away from home to return before the storm broke.
“Come on, let’s get you dry.” I struggled to my feet, still holding him tight. Even if I’d let go, the little sharp claws were digging into my stomach with single-minded determination; clearly he didn’t plan to let go.
I walked to the bathroom and dug out a towel from a small cabinet, then rubbed the kitten down until he jumped from my arms, annoyed. Since he was nearly dry anyway, I let him be, put the towel in the laundry basket and headed to the kitchen.
“Since I don’t know your name,” I said to the cat, who was curling around my bare feet, “I shall call you Rat. No offense,” I hurried to reassure him. “It’s a cute name. Besides, you have no idea what it means, so you can just trust me.”
Thankfully, I’d bought a carton of milk, so I warmed up a mug in the microwave and put some in a saucer. Rat lapped it up delicately but greedily, splashing a bit on the honey-brown kitchen linoleum. After he finished, I wiped up the traces of his meal and remembered I was soaking wet too, so I went to the bedroom to change into dry clothes.
I was just at the end of the hallway, when several things happened at once; an earth-shattering boom of thunder rattled the windows, and in the next moment all lights were off. I didn’t have time to wait for my lurching heart to come down from my throat, because in the next instant a loud knock sounded at the door.
Eight
For an interminable second, I simply froze in the hallway. I stood still in the pitch-dark, my mind flashing terrifying images of chainsaw murderers and bloody axes. Then I forced myself to move. I needed a weapon, a knife, anything. I tiptoed toward the kitchen, which was near the entry. I stared at the front door and through the patches of clear glass I saw a man silhouetted against a sudden flash of lightning.
That was most certainly the longest moment of my life. I had no idea what I would have done if he wouldn’t have spoken then.
“Angelina, it’s me. Are you there?” It was Blade.
I would have collapsed with relief, indulging my unreliable knees, but a blazing anger replaced the earlier fear and panic. I dashed blindly to the door and flung it open, my teeth grinding in fury.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, staring hard at his contour, though I couldn’t distinguish any of his features.
“I have to talk to you,” he said huskily.
“How did you know where I was?”
“When I couldn’t find you today, I looked up your phone in your employee file and called your house. Your mother told me you left for the weekend with your best friend. Then I looked for Isabelle and threatened to fire her if she didn’t give me your location. Don’t worry,” he added, “she would never have ratted you out if I didn’t put pressure on her.”
“Okay, so you found me. Clever you,” I snapped, leaning one hand against the door jam. “What do you want to tell me?”
Lightning flashed again. For a split second I could distinguish his features. Rainwater was dripping from his hair down his face, and his clothes were soaking wet. His eyes seemed to burn into mine in the sudden light.
“Can I come in for a few minutes?” he asked quietly.
I hesitated, but after a beat I removed my hand from the door and stepped aside.
“Okay,” I said grudgingly. “Come in, but stay here. I don’t want you stumbling all over the place. I’ll go look for some candles and be right back.”
“I’ll wait.”
I turned around and fumbled to the kitchen, feeling my way through the dark cottage. I remembered that Belle kept candles in the middle kitchen drawer. Something furry brushed past my feet, uttering a small meow.
“Rat, stay out of the way or you’ll be nothing more than a hairy pancake,” I hissed to the cat, pushing him gently aside. I groped in the drawer and found the candles, along with an old matchbox. I got out as many as I could and put them on the counter, then struck a match and lit one.
The weak, wobbly light was the most wonderful sight I could have wished for. I moved quickly around the room and spread candles all over the place, lighting them one by one, banishing the inky darkness. Then I grabbed one and hurried back into the hallway to get Blade.
He was waiting by the door where I’d left him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. I took a close look at him in the unsteady light. His short hair was drenched with rainwater. He still hadn’t shaved, so dark stubble covered the lower part of his face. He wore a white shirt, black pants and a leather jacket. The wet cloth of his shirt clung to his body, outlining every enticing curve.
I swallowed hard at this breathtaking sight, as I signaled him to follow me.
“Who’s Rat?” he asked, trailing me to the kitchen.
“A cat. Make sure you don’t step on him.”
He snorted. “You’ve named a cat Rat? Can you imagine something more undignified and demeaning than that?”
“Could have been worse.” I shrugged. “Could have been Mouse.”
When we reached the kitchen, I put the candle on the table and turned to face him, trying to control the mad thumping of my heart.
“Well, what did you want to talk about?” I asked, lifting my chin a notch. “Does your wife know you’re here?”
His dark eyes seemed even darker in the flickering light. They drilled into mine when he said, “She’s not my wife anymore.”
I think my heart stopped beating for a moment, before it resumed its incessant hammering.
“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.
“She’s not my wife a
nymore,” Blade repeated in a dead calm voice. “She came to the office today because we had an appointment to sign the final divorce papers.” He paused, looking down at his shoes. “Isabelle told me you’ve heard about Allie visiting me at the office, and that you drew the wrong conclusion.”
“The wrong conclusion? Why didn’t you tell me you were married?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Oh, come on!” I shoved a chair aside and sat, furiously staring up at him. “You kissed me, Blade! Did you use to kiss other women like you kissed me while you were still married? I don’t even know whether to believe you or not.”
He walked toward the table and stopped in front of me, propping his hands on the backrest of a chair.
“You can believe it, Angelina. I never lied to you.”
“Lies by omission are still lies! Why didn’t you tell me, damn it?” I exploded.
“Because I knew how you would react!” he shouted right back.
Rat, probably scared by the noise, burst out from under a cabinet and dashed through the door, jumping right over Blade’s feet. Blade looked startled for a moment.
“What the hell was that?”
I laughed hysterically, planting my elbows on the table and lowering my head to my hands.
“That was Rat the cat,” I said when I could speak. “I found him earlier on the terrace. Must have gotten lost or something...”
I trailed off. For a while we sat in silence, watching the shadows dancing on the walls. At last, Blade moved slowly toward the window and began speaking.
“I started dating Allie about six months ago. A friend invited me for a drink one night. When I got there, I discovered he’d also invited a couple of his female coworkers. Allie was one of them. He introduced us and... I was dumbfounded by her. You see, she looks a lot like you.”
“I know. Belle told me.”
He glanced at me, then back toward the window.
“I got a little drunk that night. I was lonely and miserable, the way I’ve been the past three years. One thing led to another, so Allie and I ended up in bed.”
Unabridged Page 5
