Chapter Fifteen
Leif
“Are you on your computer?” Eva asks. “I refuse to tell you anything until your sitting down and looking at your computer.”
“Alright, alright. Don’t be such a bossy bitch.”
She sighs. “You’re going to be eating those words in mere seconds,” she says, her tone strained. “Pull up your messenger. I need to send a few things,” Eva adds.
Irritation is all I feel at having to cut my phone call short with Malena for whatever trivial bullshit Eva wants me to see. Her screenname is darkened signaling she’s sending something and an image pops up in our message on the secure server. I double click to open it.
And lose my breath. It’s Malena, clear as day, as beautiful as I’ve ever seen, except there’s a man hugging her around her waist, kneeling on the ground. It’s obvious Eva took this photo while on some sister reconnaissance mission because of the angle and the distance. Another photo pops up on the screen and it’s an image of Malena and this asshole talking, their faces close, and emotion spilling into the air between them. My throat feels full as my heart begins to hammer. A blind red rage clouds my vision.
“What the fuck Eva,” I say into my phone.
Eva makes a little noise and I think it might be because she regrets what she needs to say, and that says something because Eva regrets nothing. “Celia called me to tell me about her mom being sick, Leif. You have to understand I didn’t plan on following her. She was pulling out of her road. I could see she was crying and I followed her because I was worried. Okay? It was about forty-five miles to some bum hick town in the middle of nowhere.”
My heavy breathing is the only response I give her.
“I parked across the street at a little gas station to fill up my car, assuming she was getting her car fixed or something because it was a mechanic shop. It seemed weird to drive that far away if her car was broken, but she came out right away, this guy behind her. They had this heated conversation and I…” Eva trails off. “Just knew something was between them. Body language and their facial features. Everything. It was intimate in nature even if Malena seemed upset.”
I enlarge the photo and confirm everything she’s saying. It’s awkward, like I’m looking at someone else’s love story. “Who is he?” I ask, only because I know Eva wouldn’t come to me with just photos. She is a fucking FBI agent when it comes to shit like this. I think it’s why she gets on in Bronze Bay so well. “Dylan Bowers,” she says. “Leif.” “What?” I ask, running a hand through my hair as I remember the first time I met Ms. Winterset and she called me Dylan. “Stop beating around the bush. Just fucking say it out loud. What else do you know?”
“They were married.”
All the air leaves my lungs. Every moment between Malena and I tainted by a singular, nonnegotiable lie. “Married? Are you sure?”
She sends another photo and it’s the marriage and the divorce certificate in one PDF image. “I’m positive,” she says after giving me a second or two to review the photo. “I asked around after I pulled the information online and I guess it was a huge scandal. They were high school sweethearts. The type of couple who everyone says was destined to be together. Word on the street is Dylan never got over Malena and he’s been trying to woo her back into his graces. Maybe with you being gone,” Eva stutters. “It’s a lot. The separation. I’m sure it’s a lot for most people to deal with. Maybe it was a weak moment, Leif. It could be nothing.”
“Or it could be everything. Thank you, Eva. Even if you just ruined my fucking life.”
She scoffs. “I’m just as surprised as you are. You guys were it. I’m done. I’ll leave her alone now. Okay?”
Or do I have her follow her around like an insecure dog? That’s not me. It can’t be. It’s never been me. “I need a bit to sort things. I’ll talk to you later.”
We end the phone call, but I continue staring at the computer screen and the images that tell a story I’m not a part of. His face. It’s almost more than I can bear witness to. This was a private moment never meant to see the light of day. I’d feel guilty if this didn’t change everything for me. I thought I meant more to her than this. I could get over the omission of the marriage and divorce, I think. With a ton of time and soul searching, but I’ll never get over these photos and whatever the fuck they mean. I want to kill him.
It’s too late to call Malena so I do what she does every day. I write her an email and I tell her about the weather here in San Diego. My words convey a bland temperament of someone who is distancing themselves from a situation or person. Maybe that’s what she’s been doing over the course of these two months. The emails formed as her easy way to get out of a relationship with me to be with him. A man who she used to call husband. Shared a bed with. Shared a life with. I close my eyes when the sting in my chest becomes unbearable.
In the last paragraph, I ask her to explain herself and the photos. I also attach the marriage and divorce certificates and ask about those as well. I tell her what I think the photos mean in the most concise manner I can manage without hurling every single curse word in the English language. I tell her to confirm I’m right and to walk away if I am. What I don’t do is give her any indication of how these photos and her lie make me feel. I’m not giving her that power over me. The reason I feel like a gutter slum right now is because she had that power to begin with.
I’m blindsided.
“Time to go! Our leave request was approved, fucker. Let’s go eat tacos and drink beer!” Aidan roars from the other side of my bedroom door. An off night. A rare pleasure. I pause for a moment or two wondering if I’m approaching this in the correct manner before hitting the send button. Fuck it. She wasn’t thinking about me when she was visiting this guy, didn’t have a thought of me in her mind. One time she said she’ll always be the one who needs me more. Such bullshit.
Closing my laptop, I call out, “Yep.” Then head to open my door.
“You okay?” Aidan says. The dude might be an asshole superb on most days, but I can’t deny he knows me well, and vice versa. That’s what’s best about our brotherhood. We can move from razzing each other to supporting each other in a way no other friendship can. Not until you’ve fought side by side, for your life, saving each other’s, can you understand how deep the brotherhood goes. We’ve earned our right to be assholes to each other.
I think about showing Aidan the photos, but then I think better of it because of the emotion on their faces. It’s that embarrassing—that telling. “Yeah, man. Woman problems,” I say, hoping that will suffice. “I need this night out more than ever.”
“What happened? Malena realized what a tool you were and changed her cell number?”
“Ha-ha. I wish,” I say, sighing. Aidan picks up on the shift immediately. “Way worse.”
“Oh. Let’s get out of here, and you can tell me about it at the bar.” His eyes shift from mine and away just as quickly, also a telling sign.
I laugh a little. “You’re really going to drink beer? Just because they granted us leave for tonight doesn’t mean we’ll be alone. I bet they have people trailing us all night. We’re in deployment status, dude. I’m going to mind my manners like a good boy.” I try to change the subject, but the words left unsaid hang in the air.
