Authors: K. Larsen
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Matteo thought back to that time, to those names, and laughed. Jezebel and Ahab. Gabriel the king and Monique the harlot. It had seemed so funny then to pick those names. They had never used them together but on paper, that was who was married. In their hearts they would always be Cece and Teo. A familiar gnawing ache of separation spread through his chest. He thought about how
they laughed together. She giggled at his puns but would get nearly hysterical at any type of potty humor. Some of their conversations could easily have come from a couple of ten-year-olds snickering at the lunch table.
Matteo closed the journal then set it aside. He tucked his hands behind his head and wondered if Cece was sleeping now or lay awake thinking of him, as he did her.
He heard her scream. Then again. Gabriel’s hands around her neck squeezed with inhuman force. The girl, Annabelle, stood grinning. The window separating him from Cece was thick-too thick. He pounded his fists on the glass but it didn’t make a sound. No one looked his way. Rain poured down on him. Cece’s eyes strained in their sockets before drooping closed. He screamed.
Matteo bolted upright, sweat beaded on his forehead, the bed empty beside him. In his head, he drowned his fears until they disappeared and he found sleep again. Everything was fine.
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***
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He opened his eyes slowly. Let the light filter in bit by bit until his eyes adjusted fully. Rolling to his side he grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the side table and his lighter and lit one up. She’d kill him for smoking in the bedroom but he still had time before she would be here to nag him about it. He was comfortable. He’d slept well after falling back asleep which was a surprise. Feeling lazy he reached for her journal and spread it open next to him on the bed. He’d read just a little more before getting up.
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2006 - US
Brant is dead. I feel guilty, but not guilty enough. I was sitting in the car watching him. My body stiff, hyper-aware of the daylight and fear of discovery. He looked just like a young Gabriel. Handsome. My heart swelled then burst. The fury that sprouted inside my soul overcame me. I slammed the gas pedal down and closed my eyes. I killed him.
A boy.
Gabriel’s boy.
Monique’s boy.
I had to bite back the tears that came, hot and fast. My stomach turned in half happiness, half overwhelming sickness at my action. I didn’t look. I couldn’t look. I sped away. Called Matteo.
I barely made it to our hotel before I had an attack. I barely had time to shout his name into my phone from the parking lot. Vomit covered me in the driver’s seat. Sweat dripped from my forehead. My hair stuck to my neck uncomfortably. My knuckles were white from fisting them against the cramping and pain. Matteo swept me up. Carried me. Hydrated me. Placated me. He held me together while I couldn’t do it for myself. He did not get angry that it had happened without him. He did not scold me for not sticking to our plan.
The next night Matteo kissed the tip of my hip bone. A shudder ran through me. Delight. Desire. Joy. Magic. His love so endless that it brought tears to my eyes. We made love. Celebrated another milestone in our quest. Our mission. It united us further, if possible.
He will dream with me at night as we grow old together. The pain, the guilt of what I’ve done vanished, faded away.
And when we woke in the morning, he disposed of the car for me.
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***
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He should have had his coffee first. Matteo tried not to get caught up in that particular entry but it brought many memories back. Sleepless nights spent cooing Cece back to sleep. It was too late to quit then and they both had known it. Cece had deviated from their plan and in a rush of emotion she’d taken a step she couldn’t take back and the only option left was moving forward-so they had. It had irked him then. He was a planner. He needed the feeling of control that having set guidelines gave him. But Cece had struggled with what she’d done and he knew he had to abandon the irritation he felt and just deal with what was.
They’d followed and watched the Fortin family for months. By observing, things slowly snapped into place for them. The tennis instructor sleeping with Monique stuck out as an easy target. If they removed him from the situation it would break her. Monique’s dull eyes perked right up each time she was with the man. The girl would be the real kicker but Monique was another nail in Gabriel’s coffin and quite frankly, Matteo wanted Gabriel to feel the complete loss of a marriage he actually
chose.
He would never be able to look at Monique the same way when she came clean. Even in their rare grieving together Monique would no longer be a source of comfort for Gabriel. Not this time. This would break the last ties they shared.
August 2014
~ Matteo ~
LYING IN WAIT—waiting in concealment; in ambush.
As he sauntered down the hallway he thought of his wife’s late night call a week ago.
“I can’t sleep,” was her way of greeting him. He’d smiled feeling important, loved.
“Close your eyes. Think about the waves, hear them crashing on the sand, the sweet smell of flowers and sea spray
mixing together, and the cool night air on your skin as our bedroom curtains blow in the breeze. Feel my arms around you. Holding you tight. Think about me and how during summer thunderstorms we sit on our deck under the awning watching the rain fall.”
She’d sighed. He swore he could hear the smile playing on her lips. “Sleep fiore mio.” She mumbled she loved him and he stayed on the line until her breaths were an even, deep rhythm.
This was the end.
His last visit to her.
All day he had been bored, distracted, annoyed.
“I almost
died
Teo. She looked me up.” His wife’s words were lost on him at present. He was fixated on the glint coming from her nose. His wife had pierced her nose?
“Are you even listening to me?!”
He blinked. Then laughed. Loud and hard. What had she done? “Teo!” she yelled.
He cupped her face between his hands. “I’m sorry, but what exactly is this?” He let the tip of his finger graze the fresh piercing. Cece’s eyes bulged and her hand flew up to her nose.
“Well shit. I forgot!” She cackled with laughter. “That damn girl. She snuck me out. Made me do it! It was this or a tattoo. I think I chose wisely. Don’t you like it?” She laughed more. He loved her laugh. She sounded lighter today. The anticipation of her last visit with the girl was surely a turn on.
“It’s new, that’s for sure,” he chuckled low. “Anything else I should know about?” he asked and spun her around to inspect her.
Cece giggled. “Hmm, let’s see, Gabriel is diligently trying to repair his relationship with his daughter. Clinging to his one last shred of hope. Belle’s in love and all that we need is the vial. Her last visit is only a week away.”
“I have it,” he answered smirking. “Are you sure you’re ready? You can do this?”
“I’ve never been more ready. I want to come home Teo. I want my life back.”
Matteo pointed to the bag he’d set on the side table when he’d entered. “Everything is in there. Use the entire vial.” Celeste walked to the bag, opened it and retrieved the small glass vial. She held it up to the light inspecting it.
“It looks like water you know? So deceptive. So insidious,” she commented with a smile playing on her lips. Matteo nodded in agreement. It did. It was also perfect for their needs in more than one way.
“Come here.” He watched his wife obediently obey. “The next time I see you, you will be a different woman.”
“Kiss me Teo, kiss me one last time in this dark shadow we live in so that the next time our lips meet, it will be in truth,” she said. He kissed her. “In light.” He kissed her again more deeply. She pulled back and looked up at him. “What if the light is boring? What if we want to let the shadows in now and again?” she asked wide–eyed, as if just realizing that their life wouldn’t be tied to a goal after Tuesday.
Teo smiled.
“Then we let the shadows creep in when they need to.” Cece bit her lip and held his eyes. He thumbed her lip away from her teeth and gently bit the pouty lower one. “We’ll be anything you need,” he assured her. She pushed him then, causing him to collapse in the chair behind him. She straddled his lap, running both hands through his hair, and gently pulled backward until his throat was exposed to her. He swallowed loudly, keeping the moan that threatened to escape from doing so, wanting to tease her into thinking he wasn’t as affected as he was but needing her touch more than anything. They kissed one another with the kind of passion that only comes once in a lifetime. Soft lips pressed to the hollow of his throat and he moaned low and raw. He kissed her mouth and ran his nose up along her cheek, burrowing into her hair. As need ratcheted higher, he secured his arms around her and stood before carrying her to the bed, shadows all around them, hungry and carnivorous.
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***
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Matteo woke with a smile on his face. In five short days he would be on his way to pick up his wife. He thought of their
weakest moments, their strength that kept them stable and inspired to push on. The way neither was immune to pain or frustration, but handled it well, and knew how to pull themselves up from low places. The way they never missed a call from one other, always willing to be there for each other. Loyalty, devotion, and a true pillar in each other’s worlds. He thought about how when the world around her crumbled and the sun seemed as if it would never rise again, his love still believed—his faith in her his foundation.
Their love was unlike others.
It got them through the good and the bad, and it never faltered. When the world turned cold, hope, morals, kindness, and goodwill gone, they lifted each other up. And now, they were to face a new chapter in their lives. An unknown. Free of guilt and shame and betrayal. The idea scared him as much as it excited him. In five days they would take that first step together, again, into unknown waters. His faith in them didn’t waver; he knew as sure as his heart beat in his chest that they would find their way and be happy.
He snagged her journal from the bedside table and flipped toward the end with a smile on his face.
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2008 - USA
It’s all about perception. Life. My life is so full now. Bursting at the seams. We lie on the beach and stare at the stars at night. We make up stories for each one.
Teo’s stories are so much better than mine. His imagination endless. One of the things I adore about him the most. His words, his stories, his heartbeat all seep into my soul and lift me higher than I dreamed. The small gestures and touches. His hand on my rear, pulling me against him. He seems to prefer me that way, tightly tucked up against his side. I don’t think I will ever get used to someone needing to touch me so much. Although, I share the same sentiment. My hands don’t like to leave his. My lips hate not touching his skin. The smell of him alone is a comfort. My Teo is so much more than a partner, a husband, a friend. He is the blood in my veins. He is gravity. He is the air in my lungs. He is the moon. They don’t have a word for that kind of person, that kind of union. It’s a shame. It would be a beautiful word.
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2012 - USA
We’ve been spying. It’s rather fun. We make up stories as we watch each of them go about their days. How tired Monique looks. How she’s having an affair with the tennis instructor at the country club. How Gabriel is a workaholic who strangely spends no time with his family—the one thing he seemed to so desperately want. Okay, so maybe they aren’t lies so much as truths. But Teo and I have great fun embellishing the little details that we’re privy too. They go about their lives unaware of our presence. It’s a strange thing to be a voyeur. It’s a strange sensation to know that you are playing God. And we are—aren’t we? Watching and learning their lives piece by piece so that we can alter them, manipulate them. The joy that embraces me is overwhelming.
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The last entry in the journal is one he’d not read before. He’d saved it. Savored the very idea of it, for conclusion, for this moment. In just thirty minutes he’d leave to pick up his wife. He scanned the small home, making sure everything was just as he wanted it. Mentally confirming that everything was perfect for their return, he grabbed the book and flipped the journal open to the end. She’d run out of blank pages long ago and instead of letting him buy her a new journal she’d simply written on loose paper and stuffed them into the back. This last entry was special. It was a day that seemed to have been laid at their feet on a plate of gold and he found himself dizzy with excitement to read Cece’s perception of it.
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2014 - MARCH
The courtroom was small. It made me nervous sitting so near to the girl and Monique. It’s funny that with years passed by lifetimes can be forgotten. Monique walked right by me without thinking twice. I’m a ghost in her world. Long forgotten. Dead. The judge handed out no leniency. Sentenced the girl to six months’ probation volunteering at a center for patients with early onset dementia. She starts in two weeks. When I left the courtroom, I felt buoyant. Joyous.
Matteo and I used a good chunk of money to buy my way into Glenview. To buy the necessary doctor’s recommendations quickly. Our old private investigator still useful all these years later. It was only sheer luck that Glenview even had space available. Maybe not luck but karma. As if my need for revenge, that deep-rooted and bloomed fury, my own personal religion, was watching out for me. For Matteo.
All the cruel and ruthless disappointments mean nothing now. You earn your own luck and Matteo and I have definitely earned ours.
Tomorrow Matteo moves me into Glenview. Room 208. I’m excited and nervous. This closure, two decades in the making, is so close to completion now. That Matteo and I are so close to a life outside of this is a driving force deep within me. I’m so ready.
They say the morning after a storm brings the most incredible beauty. That the sky produces the most magnificent colors. That the air is still and calm. That you could sit for hours after watching the sunrise and feel the most spectacular sense of peacefulness.
They lie.
The morning after a storm simply means another one is lying in wait.
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***
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Matteo grinned at the written words. How perfectly well stated. Someday Cece would write a book about her life and what a book it would be. Matteo could almost smell the salt breeze from the ocean of home as anticipation and excitement raced through his veins. The precipice was upon him and he was willingly jumping off the dark edge toward the clear, green water below.
Six months felt like an eternity, but they had weathered it and now it was time to fire up the shiny red Porsche and pick up his wife. He could hardly contain his excitement. This was a new chapter and he was looking forward to it immensely. He knew she would be panicking right now even though he was just a few minutes behind. It was six thirty p.m.
He should be there already.
He pulled into the lot at breakneck speed, stopping once he reached the curb. A grin spread across Cece’s face at the sight of him. He exhaled heavily. She was stunning. Grace and class neatly packaged, simply waiting for him to unwrap her. A gift. Cece was and had always been a gift in his life.
His wife.
She was his rock. His truth. His everything. He smiled, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. She smiled back. Leaning over as she approached the car, he pushed the door open from the inside for her.
“
Fior
e
mio,
” he cooed, admiring her sleek form.
“I missed you,” she breathed. His lips found hers. Warmth flooded him. She was so incredibly stunning. So pure. Her love, her commitment, saved them both and now they could be truly free.
“Sei pronta?” he asked. Celeste twined their fingers together and rested their connected hands on her thigh before sighing contentedly.
It’s over,
he thought.
Matteo put the car in drive and peeled out from the lot as people begin to rush out the doors frantically. The fire alarm blared in the distance. He throttled the gas and Cece squealed in delight. Her wide smile lit up his heart. Their past floated away until it was just a memory of a nightmare from the night before, leaving a new life in its wake. He couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from his gut and fell out of his mouth as she squeaked again with joy, hair blowing wildly in the wind. Their sins blew away as they drove.
She was his and his only. Tonight they would celebrate and tomorrow they would make popcorn and tune into the news, watch the aftermath unfold and revel in it.
Together.
Free.
The End