Excerpt: Devil's Plaything

And so they had come to this place, this high rise apartment overlooking Lake Michigan and the second city. The landscape was shades of steel and white, the lake was oddly motionless, it was a distracting mix of buildings and swirling snow. The horizon was a hazy blue and green, the clouds thin and wispy.
She was turning eighteen in a few weeks. They planned a summer wedding before she started college. Even her parents had encouraged finding an apartment before the wedding so they would have somewhere to return to after the honeymoon. This apartment was one of a dozen they had looked at this month. It was beginning to wear on her nerves; there were always too many details, too many things changing all at once. She wanted a break, she wanted to stop thinking about the future for just a few days...
"There's no hurry," he assured her. "We don't have to decide right now."
The realtor was disappointed but wished them luck on their search as they parted ways on the sidewalk in front of the building.
They walked several blocks in the biting January wind, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Louie's was just around the corner, his favorite restaurant where they spent most of their evenings out. It was nice to know everyone that worked there, the food was very good, and it didn't matter when they showed up, there was always a table for them.
Conversely, Errol's friends kept her at a distance. They weren't unfriendly but avoided conversation or addressing her directly. It had only gotten more pronounced after he had brought her by on New Year's Eve, showing off the engagement ring. She thought that these people would have known the longest, but the surprise and thinly veiled anger in their expressions told her that they hadn't known he was going to propose.
It was uncomfortable knowing that a liar like Errol could win over everyone in her life with a few practiced words and yet her sincerity seemed to work against her when it came to his acquaintances.
"Natalie is still mad at you."
He glanced at the dark-haired hostess as she quickly jerked her head to the side to act as if she hadn't been glaring at them.
"A lot of women are jealous of you," he said with a careless shrug.
They were drinking her favorite wine--a vice that he hadn't encouraged but had abetted during the summer--and her ring caught the light as she reached for the glass.
"Or perhaps she's not pleased that you're not sleeping her anymore."
He rolled his eyes impatiently. "Are you going to start with that again?"
"Well, it would be less embarrassing for me if we didn't seem to run into every woman you've ever slept with. The problem is that there seem to be so many so it's unavoidable!"
"And yet you're not among them," he muttered.
"What?" she asked sharply, the wine glass stopped halfway to her lips.
He wouldn't look at her, studying the other customers, admiring the dark wood paneling and soft lighting. "I think you're just trying to pick a fight with me for the hell of it. I'm not going to play along."
She ignored him, smiling tightly at the waiter as their food was set down in front of them. That gave them both an excuse to not speak to each other. She barely touched her plate, but nibbled dutifully at the pasta. He finished his to the last crumb. When he excused himself from the table it seemed as if every fear and doubt she had been keeping at bay came rushing into her thoughts.
She stared at Natalie, at the hurt behind the jealousy. It would come as no surprise that she thought she was in love with him. If she was honest with herself she would admit that she knew that he was still cheating on her. Or how she started to see the signs that he was using again. Therapy was every other week now, with no discussion of his progress. He was getting defensive again. Telling her that she was paranoid, she needed to trust him. But she couldn't.
It was almost as if the world came to a standstill in that moment. If she didn't act now she would never have the courage--even if she was about to be a coward.
Natalie's suspicious brown eyes watched her as she approached, her chin lifting defensively. Then she looked almost frightened when she told her, "Even if you could have him, you wouldn't want him."
"What are you doing?" Natalie demanded, keeping her voice down as she followed her to the coat check.
"Tell him whatever you like, I can't care anymore."
She didn't expect Natalie to follow her outside into the cold. Their breath swirled from their mouths as they stood staring at each other.
"You're leaving?" she asked dumbly.
She nodded and willed herself not to cry. "When was the last time you two were together?"
The other girl looked away, staring at the snow. "Friday..."
"When he was working late?"
A nod was the answer she got.
Natalie shadowed her steps, grabbing her arm in a claw-like grip. "He loves you!"
"Why does everyone else say it for him?" she shouted in a rush of anger and hopelessness.
Natalie recoiled from the pain in her words, on her face. Her hand fell away and she watched as the only girl Errol had ever loved was walking away.
"But he loves you," she heard her say with bewilderment that that wasn't enough to make her stay.
Her footsteps never faltered. She was a block away waiting for a taxi when she heard him shouting her name. She saw him running towards her and it was horrible, the way he looked so scared and confused. It was frightening to know she was the reason for that look in his eyes--was it possible for her to do that to him?
The yellow cab slid to a stop next to the curb and she opened the door, stopping only for a second to look at him. His steps slowed, he came to a stop several yards away.
Her voice broke, her words trembling as she said the only thing she knew was the truth.
"I'm sorry. I can't stay. Let me go."
He just shook his head, as if he couldn't understand what was happening.
She couldn't watch him as the cab drove away, couldn't bear to look at him anymore. The driver said nothing as she sobbed quietly.
When she arrived at home her face puffy and tear-stained her parents would try to ask her what went wrong, ask her if she and Errol got in a fight. She would say nothing to them, locking herself in her room for the rest of the day. When it grew dark out and dinner was ready her mother would come to her bedroom door and knock softly. She would go in and sit on the bed where her daughter lay face down in the pillows. The engagement ring sat on top of the book on her nightstand, cold and garish when it wasn't adorning her hand.
She felt her mother stroking her waist-length hair gently, comforting her as if she was a baby. It felt blissfully right in that moment. A sob shuddered through her.
"I don't need to know why you broke up, but I'm here to listen if you'd like to talk about it," she murmured in her ear, brushing aside her hair to kiss her cheek. "I love you. You're so strong, I know you'll be okay."
"I couldn't fix him," she mumbled.
"Oh honey, you can't fix someone else...no matter how much you want to, no matter how much you love them. They have to want to change on their own. He's just not ready. Don't feel like you have to wait around for him to realize that. You're young, you have lots of time..."
"But I love him..."
"Since when is love the only answer? Just because you walk away doesn't mean you stop loving. He knows that." She sighed and patted her back before moving to the door. "Sweetheart, dinner is ready if you want to join us, but I know you probably don't have much of an appetite. Just keep praying for him--sometimes that's the only way to love someone like him."
"Mom!" her child-like cry stopped Mara from shutting the door behind her, she poked her head back in.
Mara smiled and the words she spoke would get her through the next few years whenever she stopped to wonder "what if?"
"Baby, never forget that sometimes goodbye is a second chance."