Page 7

Arielle

A cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I watched as the steam from my coffee mug slowly disappeared into the thin air till there was none left. I used to imagine myself as a magician when I was younger, muttering gibberish at the steam from my teacup and smoke from the chimney, hoping it would take the shape of whatever I willed it to. Some days, it was a chocolate bar. Other days, it was a rabbit. There were times I tried to convince myself I saw a distinct shape form and even tried to convince the other kids to see it with me.

Sometimes, they complied. Other times, they told me I wasn’t Harry Potter, and the steam was not changing. This time, I didn’t need my imagination, and I didn’t need to convince someone to tell me they could see the steam from my mug taking shape. It had an angular jawline, cheekbones sharp enough to slice through paper, and dark onyx eyes. The image of Mikhail squeezing the life out of that man’s neck still haunted me. I wasn’t shocked by any means. I’ve witnessed my fair share of murders and partaken in some, but this was something else.

It wasn’t the way he battered the man’s face that horrified me, nor was it his blood-covered face and suit. It was the way he forced the man’s eyes on him, staring deep into his soul till his movements finally slowed to a stop, and his body lay limp. Even then, he did not stop. He squeezed and squeezed till an audible crack echoed throughout the room, and my gasp was both planned and instantaneous.

If I quietly left without a word, his men would inform him I came around, and he’d figure out what happened. I had to make myself known somehow and leave before he could get to me. It was the only way I could use the situation to my advantage. Anything else might’ve raised his brows in the wrong direction.

Letting out a soft sigh, I picked up my mug and made my way to the kitchen, emptying its contents in the sink, and fixed myself a new cup. I hate the taste of cold coffee more than anything. I don’t know how people were able to stomach iced coffee. Beverages should be warm or hot, in my opinion.

The digital clock above my cooker read 11:11 a.m. I had five hours till it was time for my dinner date with Julia, and I wasn’t going to miss it for shit. My new project had taken up most of my time, and I ended up missing her wedding. I felt incredibly bad when she sent me a voice recording saying she would’ve loved for me to give a little speech at the reception since I was there from the start of her relationship to the proposal and, finally, the wedding. I proposed a dinner date when she got back from her honeymoon to properly apologize and explain why I couldn’t be there.

My excuse wasn’t going to be any different from the one I’ve been giving our whole time in college. I was only going to decorate this with a wedding gift and hope it eases her pain. While there were certain liberties and privacy that came with living a double life, the constant secrecy begins to weigh on you, and you start struggling to maintain the balance. There were so many events I had missed in college, alongside important moments I had missed in the lives of my friends because I had a different life that sometimes required a little too much effort.

Father also made sure we all went to different universities, with me being the only one in New York. He said it would help us socialize and form better connections with the outside world instead of just holding on to each other, but what difference did it make if you were barely around? All they knew was the sob story I fed them about how my mother left when I was young, and my father was terminally ill and required a lot of care. So, whenever I said I had to go see my father, I could see the look of pity and concern forming in their eyes.

It pained me to lie to them, but I understood how important my job was. Father said to think of it as my little way of protecting them and being their guardian angel because the criminal I fail to put away today might be the cause of a loved one's death tomorrow. It was a fair point, but sometimes I just wished I was a regular girl without the responsibility of protecting others. I grabbed my mug, making a mental note to not let it cool while I opened my laptop and went over my next line of action with Vivian.

I opted to speak over the phone so I could get the time to see Julia. It was honestly the least I could do considering the situation. Her suggestions were the same as what I had in mind: avoid Mikhail at all costs and fall off his radar. Basically, everything a regular girl would do after witnessing such a scene and let him come to me. It could be to threaten me to silence me. It could be to talk things through.

My money was on the first option, and that was the scenario I prepared for. It was very unlikely for a man like Mikhail to be interested in talking things through. He did try to come after me after he saw me watching, and he could’ve sent his guards after me when I tried to leave if he needed to silence me. Father didn’t feel the same about our new plan and was still on my neck again about progress, and my patience was wearing thin with every new demand.

He has been extremely anxious since he saw the details of the cargo Mikhail was expecting, and now he wants me to do everything within my power to find out every detail about it. I was slowly getting a headache from rehearsing the situation. I slammed my laptop shut and decided to occupy myself with preparing for my dinner with Julia.

Spending some time with someone who was neither a target nor a member of my family was exactly what I needed and would go a long way to refreshing my mind and readying me for the next hurdle. It’s why I bothered making friends in college—to have regular folks who reminded me how to live and not lose my humanity with all the evil I saw in my work.

*****

“Marital glow sure looks great on you,” I said as Julia walked towards me. I had picked out a cozy, high-end restaurant in Hudson. I wanted to treat Julia while at the same time making sure I kept my distance from Manhattan. A blush the shade of her crimson bodycon crept to her face, and a sheepish grin appeared on mine. I couldn’t wait to hear about her travels and her time with her husband.

I’ve always thought marriages to be beautiful and would love to start a family of my own after I’ve retired from my job. But till then, I’ll love voraciously through my many friends.

“You would’ve known all about this marital glow if you maintained contact.”

And there we go. She didn’t even wait to settle into her seat before berating me.

“Don’t I get a hug?” I pouted as I watched her slip into her chair. With a heavy sigh, she got up and pulled me into a bone-crushing. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Her little admission tugged at my heart. I cleared my throat, dissolving the tight ball of feelings that had formed. “I love you too, babe.”

“Good.” She released me and settled into her seat. “My apology, let me hear it. And,” she lifted a finger, silencing my next words, “It better be worth it, else I’ll hop on this table and tell the world about how you abandoned me.”

I had no doubt in her ability to do that. Julia was like a bright ball of sun and wore her bubbly, crazy personality like a badge of honor.

“First,” I lifted the wrapped gift I kept under the table and handed it to her. “Happy married life.”

She took and peeped into the back, nodding at the content. “That’s a good start. Go on.” She placed the bag next to her.

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I watched her little display. I knew she would forgive me. She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t going to, and I didn’t take her benevolence for granted.

“I’m sorry, Julia.” I started, holding her hand on the table. I knew how much she wanted me to be at her wedding. We had spent the last weeks of our final semester fantasizing about when Hayden would propose and how she’d respond. And when he did propose, she texted me immediately, and we began planning what the wedding would be like.

“I wanted to be there. I wanted to be present in every chapter of your story, but you know, my father’s condition is getting worse. I think I might lose him soon.” I said, forcing a tremble into my voice.

“Oh dear,” she clasped my hand in hers, rubbing softly. “You should’ve called or left a message. I would’ve helped in any way I could. You don’t have to always do everything yourself.” She said, worry etched on her pretty face, and I felt the strongest wave of self-loathing consume me.

There was barely any difference between Mikhail and I at this moment. Living double lives and lying to people about our true identity. Except Mikhail did not lie, he was exactly who they said he was, and he didn’t even have a second name. I shook the thought away from my head. There was no way I was going to compare myself to that monster. What I did, I did for good.

“I couldn’t have burdened you with my problems on your happiest day. It was enough for me to watch you be a beautiful bride from the sidelines. My presence would have dampened the aura.” I let out a sad smile, guilt forcing my hands to slowly fall from hers.

“How is he now, your father?”

“Alive. I don’t think he’ll be for long, but he is today.” I drew in a deep breath, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Enough about me and my old man. Tell me everything, from the places you’ve been to your experiences being a wife. I want to know every detail.” The brightest smile took over her face, and I felt my heat spread through my heart. She was happy, and I so loved that for her.

“Well, first we went to—.” She stopped abruptly, her brows knitted as her gaze swept across the restaurant. “Won’t you feed me before drawing all the juicy details from me?”

“Don’t worry, babe, I ordered a meal fitting for a bride. It’ll be here in no time.” I chuckled, and her initial excitement reappeared.

“First, we went to Barcelona. You know I’ve always wanted to see the structures from Dan Brown’s books,” she rambled off, talking about all that had happened in the past few months, from her travels to the things she bought and information on all the craziest places she and Hayden had sex as they traveled. I listened with rapt attention, soaking up her words like a sponge.

“What about you? What’s up with you these days?” she asked, her mouth filled with the “marry me chicken” on her plate.

“Well, I got this job at—”

“Nope! Not that. I’m asking about you, Ari. You’ve devoted your whole life to work and your father. You deserve to find love and some happiness, too.”

“There may be someone,” I lied through my teeth, and she squealed at the revelation.

I whipped up a sappy story about how I bumped into him at a restaurant, and we’d been on two dates, and it looked promising. It was my only way out of the conversation; else, she’d spend the next couple of minutes educating me on the importance of love and companionship. We were on our third bottle of wine, and my tummy ached from all the food and laughter, but I wouldn’t have any other way. We jumped from story to story, taking multiple trips down memory lane and sharing pictures and videos where necessary. I felt lighter than I’d felt in the past months, and my heart was filled.

“You keep me posted on that cute guy and make sure you don’t chase him away with your bad communication skills.” She teased as she made her way out of the booth and got ready to go.

“I will try.” I laughed, getting on my feet to hug her.

“You must. Don’t be a stranger, Ari.” She whispered into our hug, and I could only muster a nod in return.

I decided to stay back in the restaurant for a little while, nursing my last glass and reveling in the peace till it was time to return to reality.