𝐈 𝐒 𝐋 𝐀

PRESENT DAY

     TRYING TO SET my thoughts aside and have a decent shopping, I push the grocery cart toward the shelve of processed foods. I can hardly do it without having to think about her. After everything I did for him, he still went ahead and dumped me. He even got the nerves to tell me he’d fallen in love with her. So much for trusting a man. I feel like an idiot.

     I pick up two cans of milk and drop them in the cart. A lone shopper walks past me, pushing a half-filled grocery cart. I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t turn and look at her. If my peripheral vision is correct, then she’s a dark-haired woman in a belted dress. Does she recognize me from somewhere? I didn’t have a lot of friends in the past. Just as I grab a box of sugar, my phone beeps.

     I pull it out and stare at the screen. New messages. They’re all from Parker.

     Hey, what’s up?
     Are you free tonight?
     Can we go out? I missed the good ol’ days.

     I frown. I hate how he’s been hovering around me lately. It’s been two weeks since I was released, and he’s always checking up on me. He makes me feel like a child. I know he’s trying to help, but I don’t want his help. He’s just going to tell me to see a shrink, and that I should let sleeping dogs lie.

     I can’t deny I’ve also missed the good old days. Evans, he, and I used to go out in the past. We’d stay long hours at the bar, talking about nothing particularly. We’d take a booth at the back and sit drinking and laughing like there was no tomorrow. Somehow I hear our gigglings. Evans’ voice echoing. His silly laugh. It feels like yesterday when we were young and so full of life. But now things have changed. I’ve grown. I’m not the same woman I was years ago. I can’t go out to have fun when there’s a lot I have to do.

     I quickly text him back.

     Nothing serious. I’m out shopping.
     Nope. I can’t...

     For a moment, I’m tempted to say yes. But Evans won’t be joining us, and I will be too busy learning something about Rosina.

     I continue: I can’t Parker. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.

     I watch three bubbles appear, wondering if I’ve done the right thing. My message is marked as read.

     Parker responds: All right. Have fun. ❤️

     I text back with the love emoji. I sigh, then slide my phone into my pocket. I grip the handle of the cart. As I walk down the main aisle, I notice the woman has stopped and is staring at me. This is it. I’ve had enough.

     I push the cart forward and stop a few paces away from her. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

     She abandons her cart and strides toward me, the clicks of her stilettos hitting my ears. I get a good view when she’s closer. She’s probably around my age, garishly dressed with a makeover that has been overly done.

     “It’s you.” Her face lights up. “I didn’t think it was you until you spoke. I recognize your voice.”

     “Do I know you?” I ask. Something in her voice tells me she knows me, but I can’t make her out. I rack my brain to no avail.

     “Of course, you don’t remember me, you murderer!” she snaps.

     If it weren’t for the emptiness of the aisle, I’m sure people would’ve turned in our direction. I remember this woman now. Rebecca something.

     “I’m sorry for your loss, Rebecca. It was an accident.”

     “I don’t need your sympathy! You killed my brother!”

     I want to tell her to lower her voice and that she’s creating a scene, but she knows she is. And she’s angry. No wonder. After all those years, she still hasn’t accepted Peter’s death as an accident.

     “I’m sorry. I just want you to know that.”

     She glares at me. “Peter was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die like that.” Her voice becomes teary. “You took the only relative I’ve got. You’re a monster!”

     I tighten my hand around the cart. There’s nothing I’d say to her to calm her down. She thinks I killed her brother. Who wouldn’t be pissed off seeing the person who killed her brother? Maybe someday she might forgive me. For now, she hates me with every fiber of her being. I need to get out of here.

     I veer the cart away from her and proceed to the next aisle, stuffing it with the things I’d need for my new house. I hope I don’t see her. If we ever cross paths again, I’m sure she’ll strangle me.

     Twenty minutes later, I pull up in the driveway and cut the engine. Rebecca’s words still haunt me. Peter was a good man. You’re a monster!

     Snapping out of it, I grab the groceries from the passenger seat, step out, and walk to the porch.

     “Isla!” someone calls my name.

     I swivel, almost dropping the groceries. James struts toward me with a mischievous smile plastered across his face. He’s wearing suede jeans topped with a flannel shirt. His hair is pulled neatly back. He looks different, not the drunk man I bumped into in the club.

     “Hello, Isla. I’ve missed you so much.” He pulls me into a hug. I inhale his cologne. He smells nice. The years did him good.

      He withdraws and widens his smile, the dimples at the corners of his lips peering at me. “Let me give you a hand.” He takes the groceries from my hand.

     He says as we walk side by side to the door, “I never saw you again after our meeting at the club. Where have you been?”

     I hesitate. I’m not going to tell him I was in prison. He’ll ask me questions I’m not ready to answer. I change the topic. “How did you find me?”

     He smirks.

     I can’t stop thinking he’s a creep. Then it occurs to me I’ve always thought of him as a creep back in college. I had found him everywhere I went. It was later that I discovered we were in the same department for a course I don’t want to remember.

     “I saw you in town. I wasn’t sure it was you, so I followed you home.”

     I jab the key into the lock and get the door open. “You sound like a stalker.”

     “Trust me, I’m not. I’m just happy to see you. It’s nice seeing a familiar face after a long time.”

     We enter the house. I flick on the overhead light and take the groceries from him.

     “Can I get you anything?”

     He pulls his hand from his pocket and rubs his chin. “Yes. A glass of water will do.”

     “I’ll be right back.”

     I leave him in the living room and enter the kitchen. When I rejoin him minutes later, he’s standing by the window and looking into the driveway.

     “Nice house,” he says as I hand him the glass.

     “Thank you.”

     I watch him take a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He stops drinking and holds the glass away from his lips. “You just moved in?”

     “How did you know?”

     He shrugs. “The house feels...” He looks around, then adds, “Empty.”

     He’s right. I have to start filling it up soon. “Yes. I moved in a couple of days ago.”

     He walks to a table and deposits the glass on top. “Talking about that, where have you been all this while? You didn’t answer my earlier question.”
    
     I swallow hard. The question I don’t want to hear. The words escape my mouth before I give it a thought. “I went away.”

     He lifts his brows. “You left Amarillo?”

     I nod.

     “That doesn’t sound like Isla.”

     I know he won’t buy it. He knows me very well. I’m regretting so many things, like telling him too much about myself. I giggle. “Yeah. It doesn’t. I wanted to get away for a while.”

     His pale blue eyes meets mine as he says, “Where did you go?”

      “You don’t want to know, James. My life has been boring.” I move closer to him and stare at him; a tactic I learned years ago to get the upper hand over an inquisitive person. “You, on the other hand, seem like an interesting man with a taste for adventure. Where have you been all this while?”

     He shifts his eyes away from me. “You’ll be disappointed to know I didn’t go anywhere,” he says, but I doubt it.

     “Okay. Let’s say I believe you. Any wife? Kids?”

     He narrows our distance. “I never stopped thinking about our kiss, Isla. I might have been drunk, but I still remember it.”

     Smart guy. I’ll give him that. He’s dodged my answer, which gives me no choice but to intuit. I haven’t seen a wedding ring on his finger. He’s single. James doesn’t strike me as someone ready to settle down anytime soon. He’s not a family man. No spouse. No kids. At least we’re on the same page.

     I think of what he said. I shouldn’t have let him into my house. He can’t be serious. James isn’t the type of guy who is committed to anybody, much less a kiss from many many years ago. That stupid kiss is the reason I’m in this mess. Every day, I imagine how my life could have been different if James hadn’t appeared at the club. That accident wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have gone to prison. Evans and I would’ve been somewhere with our relationship. Rosina wouldn’t have been in the picture.

     But I know too much to blame James. Besides, it’s all in the past. No good will come out of thinking about it.

     I fix his collar. “It was a mistake. It never meant anything to me.”

     His face goes pale. “But it did to me.”

     “It shouldn’t. I can’t love you or anyone. My mind is preoccupied at the moment.” I want to add that I’m still grieving, but that will arouse a lot of questions I’m not ready to answer.

     “I understand.”

     “You do?” I ask.

     “Yes.”

     “I’m glad you do. We can still be friends.”

     He offers me a soft smile. “I know.”

*  *  *

     James left the house around dusk. We had lunch together, then sat in the living room reminiscing the past over a bottle of Chardonnay. By the time we realized, it was almost 6 P.M. I enjoyed his company so much that I told him I looked forward to his visits in the future. Sadly, he said he’d be moving out of Amarillo. He got this big business deal that is sending him overseas. I wished him a safe trip and saw him to the entrance. I had deliberately missed his kiss on my cheek and instead pulled him into a hug.

     Now that he’s gone, I’m starting to miss his presence. Maybe I should have given him a chance and hoped something would come out of it, but I’d be wasting precious time with him. I don’t want to build his hopes up, and then disappoint him in the end, like what Evans did to me. Besides, I’ve got things to do.

     Sprawled on the bed in my room, I place the glass of red wine I’ve been drinking on the nightstand, then bury my fingers on the keypad of my laptop. I type Rosina Scott in the search bar. A sip later, I stare at a page filled with social media handles of people matching Rosina Scott. I tap on images, but the faces that appear aren’t the ones I’m looking for.

     I sigh, replacing the glass on the stand. What if she doesn’t use social media. It’s unlikely. Most young adults have social media accounts. Even I created a Facebook account recently. At least she must have one platform she frequents. I just have to delve deeper if I wish to find anything on her.

     If I remember correctly, Evans has an Instagram account, but he isn’t the type who will post images of his wife-to-be on the internet. For all I know he doesn’t even post. This is getting nowhere. I should probably...

     Something clicks. Smiling, I pull up the photos of Rosina I enlarged on my laptop a couple of days ago and run an image search with Google. I take another sip, my eyes lighting up. Multiple images are displayed on the screen seconds later, but none of the beautiful faces belong to Rosina Scott—just girls who more or less look like her. This is weird. She’s keeping her life from the internet. Is it smartness? Or is she one of those girls who don’t show off?

     I yank the laptop close and set it aside, forcing myself to stand from the bed. I near the window and pull back the curtain. A gust blows toward my direction, sending a chill down my spine. At this point, my only option is to gather information on her old school. I can’t rely on the internet. I’d have to be following her and see where she goes often. So far, she visits Eddy’s café in the morning, then she drives to the clinic. I wonder what she does there.

     I have to find a way to corner her. She doesn’t know me. Even if she knows I exist, I’m not sure she’s aware I’ve been tailing her. I’ve got the element of surprise—the more reason my plan is going to work. I smirk.

     The alarm on the nightstand beeps, a reminder that it’s time. Evans should be heading to her house. I can’t wait to watch them. What would they do today? Lie in the swing bed on the porch enjoying the night like the other time? Or would they take a stroll in the neighborhood’s park?

     Retracing my steps to the bed, I pick up my phone, grab an overcoat from the wardrobe, and leave the room. I enter the kitchen and fetch a glass of water. Two sips in and the ding-dong sounds in the house. Who can that be? It’s seven in the evening.

     Tsk, tsk... Reluctantly, I make my way to the front door and open it. I almost huff but smother it.

     “Seriously?” I grimace. “What are you doing here at this time of the evening?”

     He just smiles. “Won’t you let me in?”

     My hand is still holding the door and I’m not sure if I should close it or let him in. A thought later, I say, “Come in, Parker.”

     “Good,” he says as I lead him into the living room.

     “Wow! Nice house!”

     “Thanks.” I turn and face him. “What brings you here?”

     “Nothing. I wanted to check up on you. I figured you might need some company until your uncle moves in.”

     I roll my eyes. “To be honest, you’re taking this brotherly duty too far, Parker. I don’t need you checking up on me every single second. Uncle Sam has already moved in with me. And I’m fine. There’s simply no need to keep worrying about me.”

     He walks forward and takes my hand. “You don’t seem like it, Isla. You’ve been acting strong all this while. I know it’s a pretense. You’re hurting and it’s all right if you don’t want to try therapy, but talk to someone at least. I’m here for you.”

     My eyes suddenly fill with tears. Everything that’s happened in the past few days suddenly gushes into my head. Rosina. Evans is getting married. He’s fallen in love. I’ve lost him for good.

     “He betrayed me, Parker. I didn’t think he’d do this to me,” I spill out.

     Fabrics rustle as he pulls me closer into his shoulder, clutching me like delicate eggs. He strokes my hair. “It’s all right. I’m sorry you’re going through this. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

     I cry into his shirt, and that’s when I realize I’ve been longing to do that. I just haven’t gotten a shoulder to cry on. This feels like a bad dream, one that I don’t want to have. How am I supposed to watch while Evans gets married to her?

     After absorbing much of his warmth, I pull away and look at him. Parker is a gift from God. I don’t know what I’d have done if I didn’t meet him.

     “You know something?” I ask.

     He shakes his head.

     “I still love him like never before even after he betrayed me. That’s what hurts me the most.”

     “I don’t blame you. Let me take you out. We can talk better.”

     I shake my head. “No. There’s somewhere I need to go.”

     “Where?”

     I can’t tell him I’m going to spy on Rosina. He’ll try and stop me from going, but I have to go and watch them.

     “I can’t tell you that.”

     He cocks his head. “Can’t or won’t?”

     “They’re the same.”

      He fondles my face. “They’re not. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. But I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away. You know that, right?”

      I lift a hand and hold his wrist as he moves his fingers across my cheek, taking his hand off my face. “I’ll be fine. I just need to go out.”

     He sighs. “All right. I’ll see you later.”

     I give him a small nod and follow him to the door, then watch as he slides into the driver’s seat from the porch. He starts the car and pulls away. Once he’s out of sight, I settle in my car and fasten the seat belt. I know I’ve lost Evans, and we can never be together again. I’ve accepted that. But if I’m not happy, then there’s no reason for him to be happy too. I will make him pay for humiliating me. I promise.