I stare intently at the DJ booth, then at the screen flickering behind him, and start to panic. Alex nudges me. I can’t read the expression on his face. I can’t tell if he’s pleased or annoyed, bored, content, or what. He leans closer to whisper, “I thought all the speeches were done.”
"So did I,” I say through gritted teeth. I take a sip of soda water. My stomach is in knots. I curse myself for not checking up on her earlier this afternoon or coming up with a better backup plan. I had hours to go and break more boards on that dock.
Dammit, dammit, dammit. Instead of getting her to crawl into that hut and tying her up, I should have rolled her into the water. I'd already done that once; what was stopping me?
“Marissa,” he says, waiting until I’m facing him. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” I squint, my heart racing, trying to see what the DJ is examining. I glance around at the surrounding tables, the ornamental trees along the wall of the hotel, the arched entrance of the door leading to the kitchen. No sign of Christine.
Alex lets go a deep breath like he’s been holding it in all day. “I want to start our marriage on the right foot. There’s something we really need to talk about, that I should have—”
I raise my hand to shush him. And there she is, I see her, beneath the canopy of the Tiki bar. I don’t know how the hell she made it back here, but I’ll deal with her later. “Shh! Not right now!”
“We’ll get security to take her out.”
“And then what? What about when we’re back home?”
He tries to pick up his water glass but he can’t keep his hand steady enough to hold onto it. He sets it back down. “Last night Chris came into my room and—”
“Shh!” I hiss, catching a flash of her blue dress in the shadows. I slide a steak knife under my folded napkin. It had cut through my steak like it was melted butter. If she comes at me, I am ready. I just have to goad her a little. “She’s staring straight at us! And yes, I know already.”
Alex freezes. “Know what?”
“What do you think!” I drain my wine glass, doing my best to hide my fury. He’s had all day to tell me and now he’s suddenly persistent? “I’ve finally got her figured out. Just tell me one thing.”
The DJ slips a cord into the console and switches the source feed for the screen behind the stage. Alex’s face blanches at the sight of the big screen showing a darkened hotel room. The footage shows a birds-eye view of Alex’s bed. A bed with two people on it.
“She came into my room while I was sleeping,” he rasps. Again I shush him. We’ll see soon enough what they got up to last night. If this is the worst she has in store, I’ll manage.
I pick up one of his hands and clasp it in both of mine. “Which is more important to you—me, or your pride?”
“You,” he says without hesitating, without moving his gaze from my own. In that split second, I forgive everything he may have done to me. He does love me. He truly does.
But I’m on the warpath now. By trying to embarrass me, Christine will only humiliate herself. Alex’s wounds go deep when his pride his hurt—he will never forgive her for this. And hey, he could always try stopping the DJ—why is he not dashing over to that console and hurling that stupid phone into the sea? Unless this video absolves him. It might. I cross my fingers under the table and hold in my breath.
Feedback shrieks through the speaker as the DJ turns on his microphone. “Thank you for standing by ladies and gentlemen. We will hear from one more guest and then continue with festivities.”
“I haven’t had my speech yet!” I yell. Time to take charge. What’s Christine going to do, tell everyone I locked her in some cabin on the far side of the island? Who would believe her, or blame me if they did? Of course I wasn’t going to leave her there forever, just until my wedding day was over. That’s the nice thing about crazy people. You barely have to do a thing! Just wind them up and watch them go.
“Okay Mrs. Smith,” the DJ says, “We are ready.”
I wince at the sound of being called that, like an audience member who’s just been picked for the grand prize and hasn’t quite registered it’s her and not someone else. But it’s true. As of four or so hours ago, I am Mrs. Alex Smythe. I love the sound of it. Mrs. Marissa Hermosa Smythe. Smith, legally, but I’ll keep up Alex’s pretense of a somewhat more exotic surname.
Gripping the microphone, my face flushes. “Hi, everyone. Hope y’all are having a good time!”
I pause while everyone murmurs cheerily. Buzzing with adrenaline, I feel like I’ve just stepped to the edge of a building and everyone is waiting for me to plunge into a kiddie pool hundreds of feet below. Then I remind myself, Alex is here to catch me if I fall. What prizes are there for facing life alone? None.
The dining area falls silent as I say, “You know, getting this wedding organized has been quite the challenge! Just when I had one thing settled, something else would pop up! It was like playing whack-a-mole the past while.”
I smile, mostly to myself, as I watch Christine slink into a nearby chair. Regardless of what she shows, I have the upper hand. “Weddings can get kinda boring, so I figured this would liven things up.”
I glance at Alex sitting next to me. The colour has drained out of his face, matching the table linens. His hands, which had been resting on the table, fall onto his lap as his body goes limp. The giant screen blinks. In black and silvery white, Christine’s face gazes out. She lowers her head and presses her lips to the mouth of a man obviously sound asleep.
“To each their own!” My voice booms through the speakers, sounding like it belongs to someone else. “Me, I prefer my lovers to be conscious when I seduce them. I’m weird that way.”
Every single voice falls silent as they watch Alex rouse and sit upright. Rage flares in me as they kiss. Glancing sideways, I see him slumped even further down in his seat, wan and pale like a schoolboy who’s just been caught playing with himself. “What the fuck,” he whispers, covering his reddening face with splayed fingers. He is furious.
My skin tingles. This was a stupid idea, but too late now. They’re still kissing and his arms are wrapped around her in passionate embrace. His mother glares at me and cold terror spreads along my spine. Meanwhile, Christine looks totally blindsided. “You know, some of my favourite movies feature people who live very, let’s say, alternative lifestyles. Never mind the haters—who didn’t love Fifty Shades of Grey?”
The image freezes on a close-up of them, their lips locked together.
“Alex opened my mind up to so many new things!” I carry on, deaf to his protests. “Why should we be slave to society’s conventions?”
Christine turns red as people sneak glances at her, shaking their heads while ogling her half-naked, larger-than-life body on the screen. Alex’s mother stares at her too, with a weirdly triumphant look on her face. I don’t like Alex hating me and right now, I’m sure he does. He’ll get over it. “So just because Alex and I are now married, doesn’t mean we have to be monogamous!”
“What?” Stephanie shrieks.
“I am open to anything!” The image remains frozen on Christine and Alex, making me wonder if this was as far as it went. The version beside me tenses as if every muscle in his body has constricted like a coiling python. I gesture toward Christine, not bothering to hide the contempt in my voice. “Allow me to introduce tonight’s star and Alex’s ex, Christine Johansson!”
Everyone turns to Christine and claps as if they’re watching a little kid sing off key, whose parents insist is a genius. A fresh wave of adrenaline surges in me. Time to give her the rope so she can hang herself instead of me having to do it. I know she will. “The gorgeous Christine would like to share with us now. Take it away, doll!”
She kneels partly on her chair like a supplicant at mass. Keeping her face bowed, she squeaks, “Hi.”
“Go ahead,” I say sweetly, like I’m feeding an infant in a high chair. I am so going to get this woman. I dare her to try convincing anyone here I hauled her to the far side of the island hours before I was due to get married. Uh huh. Go for it. “Time to say your piece. Everyone’s listening.”
Christine’s voice shakes as she says, “Yes, that was me with Alex. We may have officially broken up, but he and I never stopped—”
“Some people say three’s a crowd while I say, the more the merrier!” I grip Alex, who’s frozen colder and harder than the ice statue on our table’s set piece. “Who wouldn’t want to sleep with the girl—she’s gorgeous! Though we both liked you better as a blonde.”
Alex reels like he’s about to pitch across the table. Too bad; he should’ve thought about that when he was fucking his ex on his wedding night!
“You have no clue!” Christine sneers, growing bolder. “Alex never stopped loving me—he’s just too chicken-shit to ditch your stupid ass!”
“I was too tired to join you.” I grimace, determined to win this. I will. The threesome angle should also help Alex save face. “I just don’t have your stamina!”
My parents stare out over the ocean like they’re the only two people on the patio while Alex braces himself against the table like he’s just about to hit the big drop in a roller-coaster.
“Admit it!” Christine’s eyes water and I can tell I’ve got her. She’s this close to breaking. Just one more little push is needed. “Admit it! Alex is only marrying you because you managed to get yourself knocked—”
“Hey, Mr. DJ!” Panicked, I wave both arms at the DJ. “You were supposed to show the one with the two of us going at it first! Christine’s tits look fabulous! They’re bouncing around while she’s riding on top of me—we could make a lot of money doing that for webcams!”
“Bullshit! The two of us never—”
“Seriously ladies, nothing beats another woman go down on you,” I say, my face and neck blazing hot. Hamming it up, I rotate my hips. “Oh, my, God. Christine is mind-blowing! She can do things with her lips and tongue I didn’t even know were possible!”
Christine shoots into the lobby like she’s been fired from a cannon and I wish I had a flag to raise in victory.
Exultant, triumphant, don’t begin to describe the I thrill feel.
I feel like I’ve stuck the first ever flag on Mt. Everest, hiked my way up to the moon.
Everyone’s murmurs rise and fall like the waves crashing beyond the seawall; words like “pathetic” and “desperate” hiss all around. I choke at the sight of the way Alex stares toward the archway. Throwing his napkin down, he stands and tenses like he’s about to bolt. He promised me! Grabbing his wrist I ask, “Where are you going?”
“To give her a piece of my fucking mind.” His jaw clenches and his chest heaves. I release him, but my spike of relief is only momentary as he growls, “And you’re next.”
I hug my arms to my chest and watch him storm out. My eyes burn with tears. I should have known Alex’s pride comes before everything else, including me or his future child. I should have known.
“Did I not warn you the afternoon we first met?”
I turn to see Alex’s mother sitting in the seat he just vacated. The expression she wears is colder than all of Antarctica. “That anyone who knows him well can work him like clay.”
My blood freezes as I watch the corners of her mouth curl up. She leans closer to me and whispers, “You’re lucky Christine refused to partner up with me. What she had to show everyone here was far, far worse. You’re also very lucky Bridget has no desire to see you prosecuted for some odd reason.”
“I was visiting my parents that night. Good luck proving I wasn’t.”
She flinches for a split second before recovering her poise. Then comes her megawatt smile that still fails to light up her eyes. “Anyway, the two of you are married now and you are providing me with a grandchild. I will leave you be.”
Thank God she returns to her husband’s side and resumes chatting with my parents. I should be relieved, but I feel tenser than ever. I cannot believe she would humiliate her own son at his wedding. Though it does explain a few things.
When Alex realizes it was she who set this all up, he’ll forgive me. Which leaves Christine … Resolve firms up in me and I gaze around for Pierre. Time to finish what I began.
