Page 13 of Reckless Woman
Love.
How can a simple four-letter word be capable of such wildness and eccentricity?
I murdered for love
I love a murderer.
A man who ties me up in knots, more so today than ever before.
“Right this way, Miss Williams,” says the rehab’s administrator, a brisk brunette with a tight bun that’s ironing out the lines on her face, as she leads me down a wide, willow-colored hallway toward my room. “Your first group therapy session commences in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks so much.” I pick up my pace, my pink sneakers pounding out a squeaky rhythm on the clean floor.
“The session will be held in the Beethoven Room, followed by a group meditation outside. After that, there’s a specialized session on stress management in the Vivaldi Suite.” She gestures to the folder in my hand. “You’ll find your full schedule in there.”
The communal rooms are named after famous classical composers, the same way all the decor harmonizes in themes of white and green. The sense of conformity here is as slick as the service.
Still, I need this place. I need it to keep on healing me, even though I need Joseph to explain what the hell is going on with him more.
I barely saw him during our last days together on the island. When I did, we barely spoke. The night we made love on the beach—the night he asked me to marry him—he stood up afterward, brushed his shirt down and walked away.
He left me there alone, and it’s like he hasn’t returned to me since.
My cell phone pings as the administrator directs me toward a door. Yanking it out of my pocket, I pause when I see who’s messaging me. Guilt wasn’t the only thing I left behind in Colombia, but I miss this one way more.
“No cell phones allowed in here, Miss Williams,” says the woman sternly. “You know the drill.”
“Just this one message, and I’m done. I swear!”
Her face relaxes a little. “You can hand it in to reception on your way to the therapy session. They’ll make sure to store it in the safe for you until your departure.” She slots the key card into the lock and opens up. “We’ll see you shortly.”
With that, she drifts back into the hallway, leaving me tapping out my reply to the beats of her fading footsteps. My new ring keeps catching in the strip lights overhead, offering me short sharp stabs of happiness, followed by icy trickles of doubt. Like the fact I said “yes” to a shadow man who hides so much of himself in the dark.
Maybe he never expected me to say that word back to him.
My stomach lurches.
Stop with the second-guessing, Anna. You knew it was coming. He bought the rings years ago.
I’m only here for two days. Joseph and I have the rest of our lives to make us right.
With that in mind, I press “send”.
I have news…
She replies right away.
Good?
Bad?
I miss your face,parcera.
Does she ever think about the faces we obliterated together? Like the rapists in her bar, and the tormentor who ordered us to shoot each other before we fired on him instead? We never spoke it aloud, but we synced our plan anyway. Me and her—after everything we’d been through—it was just…
Instinct.
Snapping a picture of my ring finger, I press “send” again.