Destination Wedding - a Novel

Any longer in Marissa’s room and I was going to choke to death. I had to get out of there. I was so appalled Marissa. By her attitude. A daddy’s princess who grew into an entitled brat who always paints herself as the victim. I’m tired of her. Beyond tired. Poor Alex. He’d be better off with his ex.

I come out into the dining area, empty now, and pass by the Tiki bar. The air is much cooler than indoors. A nice relief from the hot sun earlier. I’m lucky I didn’t get heatstroke after that tour in the paddle boat. Now I’ve done my duty for the night. Played hostess to the more boring guests, explained how the bride wasn’t feeling well and retired early. I even managed to stomach Alex’s mother. I deserve a medal for that one. No wonder Alex has this neglected, little boy side to him. A side he hates, I suspect. Feeling drained, I breathe in the wonderfully fresh breeze. I step out of my shoes and plant my feet into the soft earth. Breathe in deep, exhale.

Voices echo from the lobby. I tense up. I should have moved further away from the hotel. I pick up my shoes and duck around the side just as Beth comes out. That same dark-haired guy follows her. Now that’s weird. I had no idea they knew each other. Gavin, that was his name. I keep forgetting it. He paces around, kicking up gravel. The toe of his shoe sends a stone skipping toward my feet. “She was supposed to meet me half an hour ago!”

“She was in the change room last I saw. I was waiting for her to come out because I wanted to talk to her but then these other two girls went in. So I went to the bathroom and by the time I came back she was gone!”

Gavin snorts. “I didn’t know you knew her.”

“We’ve been friends for a few months now.”

“Friends. With my sister. As in is your new brother-in-law’s ex.” He blows out a whistle, practically calling her an idiot. I already heard about that drama. Christine had made a pass at Beth in order to get her to dish some dirt about Marissa. Apparently it worked. What dirt? I’d be curious to know myself. Each time I ask her about why she moved back home from New York City I would get a slightly different lie.

“We … had a connection.”

I clap my hand over my mouth to suppress a giggle. Marissa’s sister, and Christine? Oh, poor Beth. I feel terrible for the girl. The percentage of lesbians in this town is tiny. Tiny and old. All the ones I know are over fifty. I amble further away so I don’t have to overhear them. I think back to the end of those speeches earlier. Lord, that was weird. This entire night was so awkward. Alex was livid when when Christine ran out. Did he cheat with her last night? I don’t want to know. I’m too old for all this drama and yet I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

I pass by a rickety wood cabin where I stop and stare around. Not good. I was so lost in thought that I kept walking without paying attention to my surroundings. Oh, well. I'm about to turn back when swear I hear Steph’s voice coming from somewhere further ahead. What’s she doing out here? Then I hear footsteps going at top speed somewhere to my left, heading in that same direction. I catch a flash of long, pale legs beyond the trees.

CHRISTINE

They’re going to kill me. Enough time has passed from when I screamed that if anybody heard it, they’d be here by now. All I’ve done is escalate tension that was already sizzling like an electrical transformer. I have to wait for their guard to slip if I stand any chance of getting the fuck out of here.

Pierre barricades the door. Amazonian Stephanie guards the patch of floor between me and the lantern, as if reading my thoughts of kicking it over and setting the place on fire. I will if I have to. If I’m going down, I’ll take them with me.I should have gone to that party. Or gone to meet Gavin. Or never come down to this stupid island. While they blabber about what a slut I am, or crazy or stupid or whatever, I go over each wrong choice I made that got me here.

Alex is probably passed out cold in his bed, clueless as always to which of us is the craziest. Marissa slaps me again. My cheek still stings from the earlier one. “Did you hear me?”

I don’t answer, just glare at her, daring her to use that knife on me. Go for it, bitch. You have more to lose than I. Her over-bleached teeth grit, some vein in her temple spasms, and she raises the blade to my face. “Ready, Pierre?”

My skin goes cold with terror at the jingling noise of him unbuckling his pants. What the fuck. I’d pegged this guy as a creep but not for a single second in a million years did I ever think that he’d …

ALEX

The elevator refuses to budge from the second floor. I hurry up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. I reach the bridal suite. Empty. I pass by Gemma’s room; no one in there. The Tiki bar. I feel stupid for not checking there first.

I head back down and come out into an empty lobby. A couple of staff are sweeping up.

No one in the dining area. The lights around the Tiki bar are off. Where is everyone? I can hear voices coming from somewhere far off. I amble down the path to the beach. I hear nothing over the hissing surf.

No one on the sand, only the waves crashing in. The voices probably came from the woods. I hurry up the hill, head along the side of the hotel. A light flashes beyond the grove of trees. I’d looked in some cabins during my search for Marissa. I follow the light as it travels, blinking behind trunks of palms.

I squeeze through a gap in the hedge, onto a pebble trail. The moon high above turns the stones a magical shade of silver. I easily see my way along the corridor of giant palms. No one else is around. I stop, close my eyes. Salsa-type drumbeats patter in the distance. I head toward them. The music grows louder. Then, to my left, a faint and distant slam.

I hurry through the underbrush and find another path. Several different people argue including one that says, “Get in there!”

Stephanie. The voices die off. I continue in that direction. Wishing my eyesight was better (dammit, I should’ve brought my glasses!), I squint at a yellowish glow some fifty yards away.

I dash closer at the sound of a blood-curdling scream.

The air is cool and moist as I steer our little group through the grove of palm trees. Keeping the steak knife within an inch of Christine’s spine, I march her toward an abandoned cabin I’d scouted the other day.

None of us speak. I brought Christine’s phone with me and once we get to where we’re going, she will surrender all her passwords and logins. I will then delete everything to do with Bridget, Gavin, or Kayla, and sift through any and all correspondence between her and Alex. It better be as one-sided as Alex says, or I don’t know what I’ll do next.

“Turn left here,” I say, glad people as big as Stephanie and as strong as Pierre are holding onto her. Being surrounded by the three of us, I doubt she’ll try to pull anything. I grow tense. I am ready. I can do this. The narrow, winding trail opens into a clearing. And there it is. Stephanie jogs ahead to work the door open.

The cabin is both smaller and cleaner than I remember, so for all I know it’s not the exact same one I found earlier. It doesn’t matter. At the entrance, Christine balks. I wave my knife in front of her face. “Get in there. Now!”

Her body quivers. She closes her eyes and nods. I head inside, taking the lantern from Pierre. I set it into a corner and turn it to the lowest setting. When I look up, Stephanie and Pierre are still trying to get her through the door and an image of a barnyard animal about to be loaded for slaughter pops into my head.

“Get in here!”

She lets out an ear-shattering scream.

“Shut up!” I hiss, slapping her across the face. The sting on my palm feels  incredible; I wish I’d done that ages ago. Like that day in the park. Pressing my knife to her cheek, I add, “Don’t think for a second I won’t use this.”

She stumbles inside, followed by Stephanie and Pierre who’re keeping their grip firm on her wrists. A dizzying thrill courses through my body. “Still got her phone, Pierre?”

“Right here,” he says, closing the door. He pats his pocket and pops his brows quizzically. I shake my head. Not yet.

He and Steph keep hold of Christine while I use my own phone to send a text to my dad. The one man in the world who would do literally anything for me, even keeping my pregnancy secret from my mother until he gets my go ahead. If she tries to run for it, he will get her.

I follow Gemma into the dining area. Watch her chat with guests, chalk everything that went down as a prank gone wrong. I head into the powder room where Stephanie had tried interrogating me. I don’t feel like going back up. I lie on that same sofa, my legs curled. My knees begin cramping. I sit upright again, stretch out my legs. Blood rushes to my head.

The door at the other end of the hallway clicks open. A crack of light appears. A slender figure comes in, the lights glinting off her reddish brown hair. I stiffen and wait for her to speak first.

“I may not be the last person you want to see, but close. Several people were commenting on your absence so I took it upon myself to investigate.”

“Hi mom.” I shift sideways. She takes a seat on the cushion next to mine. My entire body feels as if it’s seized up; it often feels like that around her. “Who put you up to this?”

“Your father. Both of us have managed to behave ourselves. Not a single thrown vase yet, in spite of sharing a bedroom. I think it’s a new record. We even had sex on this trip. With each other.”

“Too much information.” I chuckle, mostly from frazzled nerves.

“It took me a long time to see why you fell for Christine. With the darker hair and in that blue gown she wore ... she was ravishing. Marissa’s very plain.”

“Mother,” I say, clenching my jaw.

She lifts her hands, shrugging. “It’s your life and you’re a married man. I will no longer interfere.”

I’ll believe that when I see it. “Why did you hate her so much?”

I wonder what’s really going through her mind. She sits erect, her arms perfectly straight, palms pressed against her knees. She wears black nylons and a wool suit even in the tropics. “She’s the path I regret not having taken in life.”

I stare at her blankly.

“Ah, bless you, Alex.” She pats my back like I’m one of her cats. A pair of fluffy, ill-tempered Himalayans. “I envied her.”

"What? Her mother thought it was funny getting her drunk as a little kid. Her step-father tried to get her into dealing weed at her school.” My eyes sting, but hers are dry. They always are. “She was twelve!”

“At twelve my father made me pledge I’d be a virgin when I married. At sixteen, I was pregnant, and my father was hauling Robert to church with the help of two oversized business associates.”

“I know.”

“Ah, Alex.” Another shoulder pat. “Do you think Robert desired a career in law and politics? My father needed someone bright and loyal to help keep him out of jail.”

I learn something new every day when it comes to her. My dad had once said by his being distant, he was doing me a favour. I’d always assumed it was because he’s a raging asshole. (He’s that, too.) It wasn’t Mommasaurus who broke us up. I let everyone else make decisions for me. I took the easy route in life. The easiest route is always downhill.

“You’re married to Marissa so I will do my best to make peace.” She stands and cradles my chin in her fingers. “I shall leave you with this. The more you attempt to satisfy another’s whims, the more they’ll find fault with. Forget pleasing others. Do what makes you happy.”

I hunch my shoulders. I’m not used to this level of intimacy around her. “Thanks mom.” I watch her trot back up the hallway in four-inch spiked heels.

It never crossed my mind before. She was seventeen when I was born. She seemed so old when I was a kid. She was a kid herself. That was what drew me to Marissa. Her family is so normal. I spent more time posing for pictures with my parents than doing anything else with them. Marissa never misses a Sunday dinner. They sit and talk until past midnight. No drama, no multi-generational feuds, no “side” that people go out of their way not to mention. She is also mother to my child. We’re building our own family. Regardless of what she has done, there’s no changing that.

CHRISTINE

I sent Gavin to go check and see if a boat is actually going out tonight, had a bath to ease my aching muscles, and forced myself to eat something. Afterwards, I don’t know how long I wind up sitting on the bench in the staff change room for, spacing out. He should be back soon.

What now. I don’t dare show my face. Story of my life, starring me as my own biggest enemy. Yet I’m not the only one. Daria had to be behind putting me and Alex on screen for everybody to see. No doubt she was as shocked as the rest of us by how Marissa glided right over it. If that document she gave me is not a forgery, she must be seething. Marissa is pregnant with her first grandchild.

Daria sure has it in for her all of a sudden. Which must mean she saw the same surveillance footage of the underground parking lot. Marissa is guilty as all fuck. Two of us know she is. And she’s here at this hotel for five more days. She must be shitting herself.

Gavin should be here soon and I don’t want to go back to Dorchester. I can’t stay here either. Not after earlier. Two wait staff come in, see me, and start giggling and whispering. I’m too numb to be embarrassed. Fine, whatever you’ve got, bitches, make it quick. I’ll be outta here by midnight.

One of them comes up and gives me a congratulatory punch on my arm. “Good for you!”

“Huh?” I gawk up at each of their grinning tanned faces in turn. Did I hear right?

“I hate that bitch and her stupid friends,” the girl who punched my arm says. “They’re so rude! Act like she is so much better than me.”

“That was me and my ex-boyfriend,” I say, flabbergasted. I know these girls to say hi, but that’s it. We must’ve exchanged names at some point, but I’m shit about remembering such things.

“He’s cute,” the other one says, nodding approvingly. So does the first chick.

“And I’ve just made the biggest ass off myself,” I sigh.

The first one pushes out her lips in a frown and says, “Don’t worry. My ex, I set his motorbike on fire. He cheat on me with my cousin and he’s lucky I didn’t burn him too.”

I giggle, not sure how to react. Maybe I’ll fit in here just fine. We introduce ourselves to each other again. They invite me to go partying at an abandoned hut roughly a mile and a half from here. They always go to the farthest one, not that security would do shit if they were caught. They probably hide so the guards don’t wind up drinking all their booze.

“Been a long day for me,” I say ruefully, “But next time, definitely. And thank you.”

Marguerita squeezes my shoulder, winks and gives me a thumbs up on their way out. I think it’s the first time in my whole life I’ve acted like such a whack job and people liked me for it. Then again, I’m in a different culture even though it’s still somewhat part of the US. People don’t expect you to be a robot down here and just shut off every emotion no matter how intense. Alex can do that and function just fine.

Not me.

Which is crazier if you think about it: letting loose once in a while or being under total control of yourself one hundred percent of the time? Why are you considered a better person just because you put up with people’s bullshit instead of standing up for yourself?

Feeling better about myself than in I don’t know how long, I get up and amble out of the change room. I could use a late-night bite. After earlier there’s bound to be tons of leftovers. Then, off to bed where I’ll craft an apology for my manager. For all I know, he might not even mention it. They’re pretty lax here, set to Caribbean Standard Time, which I’ve grown to love ...

I’m so off in my own world that even when I feel fingers like an eagle’s talons dig into the flesh of my arm, I don’t flinch. Somebody yanks me around and my heart leaps into my throat.

Fuck, I’m surrounded.

I try to scream but a giant hand clamps over my mouth. Pierre’s in front of me, so it’s not him, but there’s a glint in his eye that scares the living shit out of me. Stephanie is the one holding me.

ALEX

“She’s been playing you the whole time! You haven’t a fucking clue!” her taunting voice fades. I charge through the emergency exit. No alarm sounds. I step outside into the steamy air. Alone finally.

Eight years ago. I broke it off with Bridget eight years ago. She still can’t let go of it. She is beyond insane. I was a horny teenager who had sex on demand. With a beautiful green-eyed, black-haired woman built like a porn star. Of course I went for her.

The sun has fully set. A spotlight lights the more roundabout way down to the beach. As if signalling where I should go. I step onto the soft sandy trail. I steal a glance over my shoulder. Nobody follows me.

A nearly-full moon gives me just enough light to find my way. My head begins to clear. My body feels less tense. I amble through the underbrush and groves of palm trees to a grassy dune. I clamber over it until I reach the edge of the beach. I set my shoes and socks on a driftwood log. I stroll along the shore. The damp sand is cool on my feet. The crashing waves lull me into a calmer mindset.

Gazing across the black sea into oblivion, not even the lights of a fishing vessel in sight, I’m tempted to begin wading in.

Surf hisses around my ankles, soaking my tuxedo pants.

I could start walking into the ocean.

And never stop.

I meander around a low black outcrop into a neighbouring cove. Only me, the sand and basalt coast, the ocean and the sky. I feel a strange peace I haven’t felt for years. My worries drift out with the receding tide. For the first time in as long as I can remember I find myself staring down at my life from a perspective miles above.

I find a rock to sit on that’s large enough for me to stretch out my legs. My thoughts wander like animals discovering open pastures for the first time beyond their little feedlot.

One by one those thoughts herd together again. All past girlfriends become one. I was so stupid with Chris. Always finding fault so I could knock her off the same pedestal I’d built under her. I hated being in love with her. So I turned her into a monster. I never pushed her far enough to break up with me. Just eroded the little confidence she had until there was nothing left.

And then there is Marissa …  

I barely know her. Tonight she made that obvious. I married a different woman than the one I met last winter. I doubt she knows who she is behind her mask. I barely know who’s behind my own.

I begin sensing a gravitational tug toward the resort hotel. I should head back before anyone misses me. (Or worse, begins looking for me.) I heave myself onto my feet again. Stare out at the sea one last time.

I grow tense as I retrace my footsteps. I don’t have to go back. I’m caged only because I choose to be. Nothing stops me from cutting any ties, starting afresh somewhere else.

It doesn’t matter. I’d wind up in the same place anyway. I’d be more miserable with Christine. Or Shereen, or Jules, or Meaghan, or any other woman for all I know. Because I’d still be me.

Climbing up the steep, grassy dune, a more reasonable part of my brain kids in. Being married will make my life easier. Better odds of promotion into management. No need to deflect a person’s advances, just flash my ring.

I reach the log and find a note stuffed between my shoes. I feel detached enough to read it now. The lines are a blur, so I hurry up to the hotel. I lean against the wall under one of the floodlights.

Chris’s writing. I knew it would be.

Marissa wouldn’t know where to find me.

I look up just as she’s pushing her way out through the same door I used earlier. She watches me and rolls her lips into her mouth.

I love you Alex. I always will, whether I want to or not. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, things I had no right to do, like trying to ruin your wedding and destroy your relationship with anybody new. I have a lot of growing up to do, you were right. There are things I could tell you, that would change how you perceive certain people, but I’ve come to realize that is none of my business. You’ve made your choices, I have to live with them and move on. Take care and have a nice life. I mean it in a non-sarcastic way this time.

Love, Chris.

I look up at her. She’s smiling sadly at me. “There might be a front desk position opening up and supposedly a new governor is scheduled for some meeting at the UN later this week. It’s really nice here. And it isn’t as if there’s anything for me back home.” She wipes away a tear welling in the corner of her eye. “Besides, I hate winter. And I’m learning Spanish.”

“Good luck.” I have no idea why the finality of this is making me sad. I don’t regret breaking up with her. I don’t miss the life we had together. “I hope everything works out.”

I peck her cheek, head around to the front entrance.The harsh lights of the lobby hit me when I step inside. The reality of the past twenty-four hours sinks in once more. I cheated on Marissa. One section of my brain chalks it up to cold feet, to Gavin, to Reggie (Seriously, Reggie?). Like attracts like, they say. No denying that.

I have one last chance to wipe the slate clean. Start over fresh. I head up to the top floor, a bundle of jangled nerves. This wedding has driven both of us crazy. Just as well it’s over with.

I step into an empty hallway. A quiet hallway. I creep up to my room. A chill spreads in me at the sound of voices coming from Marissa’s suite. I can’t remember if I left the door in-between open or closed.

Leaving the lights off, I tiptoe into my room. The other door is slightly ajar. They’re talking about Chris of course. I sit on a nearby tub chair, listening, trying to decide whether I should join them. Or pack up and go home.

“I like her.” Pierre’s nasal voice comes into my room as clear as a cable channel.

“You would.” Stephanie’s voice is louder but more muffled.Gemma asks what happened to the videos.

Marissa blurts, “Only a total skank would keep that on her laptop, not even in a hidden directory. It was right under the main documents folder!”

Rage erupts in me. There is only one way she could know that. Christine wasn’t lying. Marissa helped get her fired. Jesus, we’d been seeing each other only a few weeks! No wonder I had a hard time believing Chris. I never imagined she was capable of stooping that low.  

“I can’t believe you let her play that in front of everyone,” Stephanie says. “I would have been humiliated.”

“I was already humiliated!” So much for her pleas of I forgive you. She never will. She’ll use this against me until my dying day. I clutch the armrests, suppressing the urge to storm into her suite.

“Let it go, honey. You should enjoy your wedding night. You’re married to a wonderful man now. Let’s go back down and celebrate, okay?” Gemma. The voice of reason. Who’d have thought?

At Marissa’s response, I rise to my feet. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I can only imagine the look on her face when I tell her marriages performed here aren’t valid. I need to cool off first. Go for a walk.

CHRISTINE

Alex looms in front of me while Pierre, Stephanie and Gavin scatter like cockroaches. He shuffles from side to side and flexes his fingers. He’s even madder than that time I almost smashed his stereo.

“What the hell was that all about? What did you think you were going to accomplish by showing that to everyone?”

I glare up at him and it’s all I can do not to smack him. Is he that retarded? He was there, surely he saw his mother trotting gleefully up to the DJ booth with the DVD she’d procured from who-knows-where. The handwriting on that note was shaky because she was the one who wrote it. The whole scheme from the get-go had Daria written all over it. She sure wanted to stick it to Marissa. I would love to know why. Actually, nah.

“Well?” His face is the reddest I have ever seen. A gross bluish vein pulsates on his temple. OMG it is so disgusting. I almost picture some creature wriggling or exploding out, like in so many bad horror movies.

“What are you trying to do here? I’m married now. It’s too late to stop anything!” He clenches his fists to his sides. His face is the colour of a tomato even under his tan. His jaw is so taut that the skin under his neck is all stretched. I swear, if I say the wrong thing he might burst into a cloud of blood and guts.

“That wasn’t —that was —” Fuck, I can’t hold it in anymore. I wish I could take a picture of him. I double over, howling. I laugh until my sides hurt, my face burning red.

“What’s so funny?”

I suck in a deep, deep breath to compose myself. If I keep laughing he’s going to kill me. “First off, I did not give the DJ that video. I didn’t even know about it.”

He wheels around on his foot and grabs his hair as if he’s about to rip off his scalp. “Don’t try to BS me!”

He hasn’t cursed yet, he still has some handle on himself. Still, I need to stay calm. And not laugh. “I’m not. I gave the DJ a video, but it was not the same one he showed. Second, marriages performed here aren’t valid.”

“What!”

Both of them are so fucking stupid! Gavin’s right, they deserve each other.

“If you’re going to a strange place, read up on it a little. Because right now, this island isn’t a country! Why do you think the airport’s shut down? Why were there no customs agents at the dock in Santa Juanita? They began a general strike two days ago! Pick up a damn newspaper once in a while.”

“I don’t know why I’m bothering. I know better.”

“She’s lucky he didn’t show mine.”

“What?” he asks, less shocked and outraged now. He only ever has so much energy and this day has already done a number on him.

“The one with Bridget on it.”

“Bridget!” He scrunches up his face at me. “That was years ago!”

“Marissa and Bridget.” I grab his arm and drag him through a door marked Employees Only. My duffel bag still sits half-open on a narrow wooden bench next to a bank of orange lockers. Thank God I printed off a copy as well as making a screenshot. He watches me rummage through a side pocket and produce the sheet of paper. I peek to make sure it’s not the one Daria gave me. Alex would have a heart attack if he saw that right now.

He’s so angry he barely looks at what I hand to him. “What is this?”

“I had Beth hack into her messages on LinkedIn. Look at the date. The day before I got fired, they met for lunch.” I have to start from the beginning or he’ll never believe me.

“They know each other. So what?”

“And you don’t think it’s weird that she never told you?”

He shrugs. “It never came up.”

“Same with her and my brother, right? Just read this, Jeez! You two are a perfect match, so oblivious to whatever doesn’t fit your comfy little world, that it may as well not exist.”

MARISSA

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.

I’ve done it.

I won.

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.

I’ll get her later.

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.

CHRISTINE

I shower and change and then go watch the speeches to see how Alex reacts. I slip onto a stool at the Tiki bar just as Pierre is getting up from his seat. He clinks a spoon to his wine glass and winks at me. Fucking creep. Gemma and Stephanie give me dirty looks. Bet my presence is setting Marissa on edge. I know she spotted me.

Pierre takes a sip of water. He stares down at the sheet of paper he’s spread flat on the table in front of him. “I have been friends with Marissa since the third grade. There is no one on this planet nearer and dearer to my own heart than my darling Marissa. I’ve held her hair while she puked her guts out, held her close when she cried her heart out, and I’m happy to be here today and part of the happiest moment of her life. Thank you.”

He bows and sits back down. Short and sweet. And about as sincere as a sympathy card from the dollar store. Yak.

Then I catch the way Alex stiffens when Marissa pecks his lips, and I steel myself. This is the woman who got me fired, tried to kill me, and she attacked Bridget, and no doubt tried her best to get me on the hook for that too. Left me to rot in a falling-down hut while getting hitched to the love of my life.

I cannot let her get away with this. I’d be stupid to!

Back to my original plan. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t make one last try. No sign of Gavin yet, thank fuck. He probably thinks I’m still getting changed. 

My senses go on high alert as I feel somebody staring at me.

Alex’s mother. She looks as if she’s seen a ghost. She quickly recovers her composure, gives Marissa a smile so fake I almost wonder if she hates that chick even more than she hates me.

Well, I’m about to make her hate her even more. I’ll see how she reacts when I get the DJ to play that parking garage footage and then watch her face as I tell her all about how one of her oldest besties in the world molested her son when he was barely a teenager. And that Marissa nearly clobbered her to death. I log into my email account on Gavin’s phone and find the message from Dave.

While Alex’s dad delivers some bullshit speech about how proud he is of his son, and what a fantastic mother Daria was for him, I slip up to the DJ booth.

“Hey.” I grin and toss my hair. “I’m an old school friend of Marissa’s, and see her three friends at the table over there?”

He squints in the direction I point.

“The four of us wanted to pull this hilarious prank to do with the night the bride first met Alex. Could you play this for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t even ask to see what it is first.

ALEX

Everyone in the outdoor dining area whoops and howls at Stephanie’s speech. Except for me. I feel as if I’m at an Imax. Or viewing my life through the eyes of a robot. No one else knows Gavin is Chris’s brother. There is that. I just wish Steph had never mentioned him. I think back to the night I came home from the awards ceremony. Marissa was oddly keyed up. She smelled like him that night. The same incense he always burned to cover the stench of his weed habit. Earlier she may have been faking her pregnancy. She isn’t now.

I gaze around at the assorted relatives and friends. I feel like a lassoed calf. Everyone had asked me, why the sudden rush? She doesn’t want me telling anyone she’s pregnant. She doesn’t know I’m aware of the actual timing (I looked up everything on that medical chart). I don’t like how she makes up her own reality. Plus a quarter-century-long friendship destroyed because of her. I could patch things up with Reggie. With Lina? Never. They're a package deal. As are Marissa and I now. For better or for worse.

Stephanie pauses. Her cheeks and forehead shimmer under the torchlight. She sips from her glass of white wine and says, “An outrage, I tell you! She made me sit there and watch the entire thing!”

“You made me watch Titanic,” Marissa blurts from her seat next to mine. Her facial expressions are more relaxed. Yet she’s as squirmy as ever. Something niggles at her conscience. The façade she wears is a poorly-fitted mask. One size too tight. “Three hours!”

“I’ll give you that. You see everything right through to the bitter end. I have to admit, once I got over the absolutely atrocious acting, The Room was hilarious.”

“That one wasn’t meant to be funny!”

Everyone laughs in hysterics regardless of whether they’ve heard of the movie or not. She lounges in my arms as if she belongs here. I peck her cheek. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. Pretend for now. Figure the rest out once we’re back home again.

Stephanie’s eyes well up. She’s getting sentimental in a way I’ve never seen before. Marissa has her fooled too. “Ah, but that’s how Marissa is, isn’t she. She finds the humour in everything. Even really awful, terrible, dreadful things. And I love her for it.”

“I can’t believe I forgot why I’m friends with after her all these years,” Marissa whispers to no one in particular. “It isn’t just because of Gem. We have a history too.” She wriggles upright and yells, “Just don’t serenade me with Celine Dion!”

Stephanie doubles over and pounds her fist on the table. “Only one song, I promise!”

CHRISTINE

I finally reach the hotel. I’m glad for the walk now—I do my best thinking then. Gavin catches up to me just as I get to the front entrance. He’s out of breath and must have been chasing after me with me totally oblivious. Whatever. He needed the exercise. “Where’ve you been!”

“She is a dead woman!” I hiss, barging past him. I head indoors. The lobby is empty. Even the benches between the potted fan-shaped palmettos are unoccupied. Everybody must still be out in the dining area. I haven’t missed all the speeches yet! Perfect timing.

I just need to change. I used to work in the ad biz and perception is everything. I can’t just go up in front of a mic and say Look what she did to me!. They’ll just see my ratty hair and wet jeans and assume I’m a crazy. Dressed to the nines, with tears streaming down my perfectly made-up face? They’ll be eating out of my hand.

Gavin grabs my arm and hauls me to the concierge. “What are you doing?”

“Alex is married now! We’re heading back.”

“Fuck you—the speeches are still on!”

"Look. I tried talking him out of it—nothing more we can do. It’s over. All you’ll do out there is make yourself look like a bigger idiot than you are already.” He raps on the polished wood surface of the counter. “Excuse me, miss?”

The concierge lifts her head, smiles, and points to the handset against her ear. She’s on the phone, dumbass!Trying to pull out of his grasp I say, "There’s no fucking way I’m leaving yet!” I show him the soft flesh of my forearm, which is crisscrossed with scabby gouges. “Look what she did to me!”

He says to the concierge, "We have to leave—it’s an emergency! How can we get to the docks in time for the nine o’clock boat?”

I twist and turn, but he’s too strong for me. I just have to bide my time. I know how to work him. “Fine, we’ll go. I just have to get my stuff.”

Gavin and I traipse through the lobby toward the staff quarters. He refuses to listen to a word I have to say. Each time I tried going into the dining area he blocked me and hauled me back outside. I should have yelled or screamed. Except that I want to come across as calm, cool, and collected, not crazy.

“I’m giving you five minutes to pack.”

“You said you’d hear me out. But the second I try, you close your ears, like you don’t want me to be right. So long as I’m this shitty person, you can be better than me. No matter how much you fucked up in your own life.”

Gavin sighs. I have to say, he has endless patience. Then again, I’ve given him lots of practice.

“Let’s sit.” He slings his arm around my shoulders and leads me to a wooden bench crammed in between potted white lilies with dark waxy leaves.

“It took me months to figure it out, but remember Bridget? The one who got me fired?”

“The one you punched out.”

“Marissa put her up to it, I can prove it! Gimmie your phone so I access my email!”

“Please, Chris,” he says, burying his face in his hands. “Let it go. We can settle this when we get back, and you can tell me the whole story on the way.”

“Clue in, Gavin! Marissa tried to kill me! She still has my phone too! I can't leave without it!” He may as well be a marble statue for all he moves or says anything. We sit quietly as the laughter coming from the far side of the lobby grinds on my nerves.

He sets the bag on the floor and kicks it underneath the bench with his heels. “Taxi should be here in twenty minutes. We can catch the last boat back to Miami and get a cheap flight home from there.”

I do my best to keep my voice down, but why should I? If I disturb their little soirée, fuck em! “Didn’t you hear me? She tried to kill me!”

“No cop’s going to believe you after you followed her all the way here. Besides, they deserve each other. They’re both faker than a three dollar bill.” He grips my arm and hauls me like a sack of potatoes to the archway for the dining area.

We keep to one side and peek in, watching everybody howl, liquored-up faces shining, fists pounding tables. I watch Alex with his arm around her waist. I swear he’s been replaced by a mannequin. It may look like him, but he is long gone. I hate seeing him like this.

“Look at those people,” Gavin says, like he’s the ghost of past, present and future, trying to show my life and fate in one theatrical scene. Whatever. “They love her. No matter what you say, you are not going to convince any one of them that she tried to—”

“You fucked her, didn’t you. That’s why you’re defending her!” I go back and fling myself onto the bench, wishing I could go straight through the wall into another dimension.

“You’re out of your flipping mind.”

Bull-fucking-shit. Why else was she kneeling in front of him at three in the morning last night? “Lina knows about her and Reggie, and told Alex about them, and she said Alex couldn’t care less.” I sigh, hating how pathetic he’s become. “I don’t get it.”

“He didn’t want to believe her.”

I’m flabbergasted. The Alex I knew would never have stood for it. “He’s going to be miserable! I hope he fucking rots in—”

Both of us fall silent as an elderly woman in a dusty pink suit passes by on the way to the public restrooms. She glances sheepishly, as if she’s the one intruding on the party.

Gavin checks his watch and mumbles, “They said twenty minutes.”

Yeah, and twenty minutes translates to three hours in Mariana Key time. Minimum. Fuck it, I can’t leave without making a grand exit. And Gavin’s phone is poking out of the pocket of his hoodie.

When a noise outside distracts him, I swipe it from him, reach under the bench and slip it into my duffel bag. “Let me shower, and I’ll go with you. We still have a few hours until the last boat. Their nine is our midnight.”

“Meet me out front on the bench on the left by that big red planter. Ten minutes. Promise?”

More like half an hour, but he doesn’t have to know that. I’m on Mariana Key time too. “I promise.”

He takes a tissue out of his pocket and blots my cheeks with it, finally acting like a big brother again. “I love you, Chris. That’s why I get so frustrated. You’re better than this. You can do better than some condescending yuppie asshole who cares only about appearances.”

“This is not about Alex,” I say yet again, wishing he’d fucking clue in already. “She conspired with Bridget to get me fired at the worst possible time. I needed that income! She wrecked my entire career! I had nobody to fall back on. Except you,” I add quickly, remembering I need to keep buttering him up.

MARISSA

I watch all the wedding guests laughing hysterically as Gemma sits back down. She pulls her chair in closer to the table and motions to Stephanie. Oh, if they only knew what I was up to overnight. I feel almost high, knowing what I’m hiding from them. “Your turn!”

I glance at Alex, who looks easily as tense as I’m feeling right now. His knee bobs up and down, shaking the flap of tablecloth draped over our legs. I clamp my hand to his thigh and give him a quick squeeze. Thankfully he stills.

“Fuck you for taking all the best stories!” Stephanie swats Gemma with her notes. “That’s alright, there’s one or two you omitted. And my delivery is better than yours.”

“Yeah, but I’m cuter.” Gemma crinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out at her.

Stephanie stands, holds her wine glass up high, and clinks it with her butter knife. Once everyone is quiet, she begins her speech in her loud, booming voice. “As everyone here knows, Marissa and I have completely opposite tastes in everything.”

I nod adamantly at everyone who turned toward me, wondering if any of them feel the tension hovering in the air thicker than the evening humidity.

“Obviously there is no need to discuss my utter contempt for karaoke, which is nearly the only thing we share in common. So I think I will delve further into Marissa’s absolutely dreadful taste in everything except possibly her men. Even then I’m not sure. There were several before Alex who she blessed with the title ‘boyfriend’, where a more appropriate epithet would have been ‘coyote arm’.”

Pierre cups his hands around his mouth. “But Alex is hot!”

“I will concede that Alex is a very attractive specimen,” Stephanie says. “However right now, I am talking about before Alex came into the picture. Let us start with Shane.”

I cross my fingers she’s smart enough to avoid any mention of Gavin. I stiffen in my seat, my eyes fixed on the entrance to the lobby. Time might slow to a crawl when anticipating something good happening, but it comes to a full stop when waiting for something bad. I picture a zombie Christine bursting in, soaking wet and with strands of seaweed covering her from head to toe. Later I’ll fetch her. Once this is all over. I’ll even bring her some leftovers.

“Are you okay,” Alex whispers.

The trail takes me through dense trees with weirdly tangled, above-ground roots and these thick Tarzan vines dangling down. I don’t know this area at all. Nor do I dare try any short cut. The temperature has dropped and in my soaking wet jeans, I start shivering. Where’s that relentless heat when I need it? So long as I follow the soft wood chips beneath my feet, I should end up back at the hotel before hypothermia sets in.

I hope. I can hardly see a fucking thing apart from a swath of bright grey directly overhead. Lizards scrabble past and even though they’re never more than a few inches long, the sight of them makes me jump out of my skin.

No doubt Alex and Marissa are hitched by now, seated at their rehearsed dinner, their friends giving the same corny speeches Alex would always roll his eyes through and swear he’d never allow because the last thing he wanted was the same wedding as everybody else.

So instead she convinces you to do a destination wedding.

How original.

At last, my feet hit more solid ground. It’s not quite a road I’ve come upon, it’s not paved, but it’s concrete hard and covered in tiny sand-coloured pebbles. It’s not too bad on my feet, feeling more like an old sidewalk with only the odd sharp stone poking a tender spot. The filth on my feet helps protect my soles.

I need to think clearly about what I’m going to do or say when I reach the hotel. I went so long without food that I’m no longer hungry, so there is that. That security footage outside the Radisson will probably mean diddly squat if I were to try showing that to anyone. All you can see is a blurry chin and a generic rain jacket. Alex might recognize her, but I can’t count on that. The note dropped off for me last night, however ... Marissa is sure to know his handwriting. I can’t stop the wedding, but getting in one finally humiliation would make this all worth my while.

Who am I kidding. You can’t humiliate a person who has no shame. According to the slip of paper Daria handed me, Marissa is pregnant. Beneath she wrote: Why do you suppose she’s yet to tell Alex? For the same reason I held off, you dumb bitch. She’s afraid karma will come to bite her big fat ass. Of course Alex knows, why else would he agree to marry her all of a sudden? She knows once she’s hitched to him, she is set. She’ll move into Alex’s condo. He’ll pay off every last cent that she owes. Then she’ll quit her job and have him foot all the bills.

Gemma wobbles to her feet and beams out at all of the guests. And giggles. I wish my mood matched hers, and I try to pretend. As soon as these speeches are done, I’ll slip out and check on Christine. Or I’ll just leave her there; I haven’t decided yet. It all depends on what Alex wants to do afterwards. Staring straight at me Gemma says, “First off, Marissa, promise me you’ll still be my friend after this speech is over. You had your chance!”

Stay in the moment, I tell myself, you’ll be fine. Don’t think about anything else. Don’t think period. Just be. “I know! I’m ready for your worst and believe me, I bet it’s nothing!” If she only knew.

“That’s what you think.” Gemma signals to the DJ in the booth. “Ready!”

A screen behind the stage flickers on, casting an eerie glow over the metal scaffolding. The DJ lobs Gemma the device to click the projector. She catches it in both hands like a little kid catches a ball. She grins devilishly. “You all have no idea how much power I have right this moment. Mwah ha, ha, ha.”

Alex lovingly squeezes my shoulder. I have no reason to be tense. No one knows what I was up to earlier apart from my dad. Gemma continues, “When Marissa first spotted Alex, she tried all kinds of ways to get his attention—even spilling a drink on herself when she stood next to him at the bar!”

“I did not!” I pout. Alex chuckles beside me. “It was an accident.”

“You can’t hold your liquor,” Stephanie yells.

“She really fell for him. Literally.” Gemma clicks the remote and the image changes to a shot of me sprawled out on the hay under the feet of a mechanical bull, my red dress clinging to my thighs.

Everyone in the audience laughs. And the more they laugh at me, the more I’m pulled into the here and now, which is exactly where I want to be. Forget everything else for a while.

“Good thing I had lots of Percocet with me!” Pierre calls out.

“I don’t know if everyone already knows this story or not,” Gemma says, “but they met in a karaoke bar. She didn’t want to go that night—she wanted to be across town, seeing some crappy cover band instead. According to her, the only people who go to Karaoke are failed rock stars!”

Everyone at the surrounding tables roars with laughter.

“Not to mention, Alex sung the absolute cheesiest song you could imagine. Five different music magazines voted it the worst song ever recorded, and that was the one that won her heart.”

“She was mad because she wanted to sing it herself!” Pierre yells.

“It’s true!” I say, though they’ve been making up pretty much everything. That’s the great thing about stories. People love a good story even when they contain no truth whatsoever.

“And never mind her tastes in music,” Gemma says, “Then there’s her God-awful taste in movies! Anyone who knows Marissa has been dragged to the Riviera Theatre. I don’t know which scared me more—the building collapsing on me or what atrocious movie she was about to make me watch!”

CHRISTINE

The light has changed by the time I come to again. Not as bright as before, but it also looks sharper in here. Less hot, thank God. Still woozy, I continue to work on getting my feet free. With the nub of my ankle I finally manage to push a loop of scratchy rope down around my heel. I feel a burst of freedom as my bindings loosen enough to for me to kick them all the way off.

Now that my legs are free, getting the ropes off my wrists is not nearly as hard as I’d feared. She’d looped it in a tight figure eight around them, but hadn’t bothered tying a separate knot before restraining my ankles. Stupid bitch.

Getting out of the restraints is one thing. I still have to get out of this stupid little hut. Lying on my side, I wriggle closer to the door made of bamboo poles, hoping it’s as flimsy as it looks, bend my knees, and kick. It doesn’t budge. I don’t see a lock either, but when I kick it again, a latch outside half way up keeps the door firmly in place.

Working my fingers beneath the bamboo stalks, I manage to snap one of them away. Getting my fingers around the next one is easier. I break a big enough hole at the bottom to slither through and holy fuck am I glad to be out of there.

I squeeze myself out onto a wooden dock, bleeding from hundreds of scrapes. The sun has sunk behind the tops of the palm trees, but it’s still bright out. I’m guessing five or six o’clock. Only when I try to stand do I realize how stiff I grew from being roped into one position all night and day. My neck is killing me. So is my back. My shoulders too. I painfully heave myself up onto all fours.

Looking around, I’m better off crawling than trying to walk along here. I’m at the end of a long jetty. The ocean slurps six inches beneath me. To my left is another Tiki Hut, even more dilapidated than the one I was trapped in. A bad storm must have come through here since the rest of the huts have that chewed-up look like trees caught in a microburst. I don’t know how this one kept its walls and roof.

Between me and the beach is a good hundred feet or so. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I edge along, testing each board with the ball of my hand before putting my full weight down onto it. The water doesn’t look deep but is so crystal clear that the rocky bottom could be two feet down, or thirty.

To test the current, I pry a splinter off and watch it speed away as if motorized. It’s pretty strong. I’m glad Alex made me to take swimming lessons though I hope I won’t need them. I have no fucking clue where I am. I doubt anybody else does, either. Except for Marissa.

I keep crawling. Five boards in a row are missing and the very last one looks freshly busted. That fucking bitch. I am so going to get her if I have to rot in jail the rest of my life afterwards. My heart pounds as I stand and balance along the more solid-looking beam that remains and, my arms extended from my sides, I cross the gap.

I walk the remaining twenty or so yards and finally my feet land on sand still warm from the sun.  I am so relieved! I almost want to kneel down and kiss the ground. No time; it’s getting dark. I’m still getting used to how fast the sun sets this far south. My brain always associates hot weather with long twilight hours. I’ve been here for long enough to know that I have maybe twenty minutes until it’s pitch dark. The moon is near a full phase, but it hasn’t started rising yet.

I stick to the sand and follow the convex beach.

MARISSA

My cheery mask hides a nervousness that my lack of appetite keeps trying to reveal, like a telltale heart thumping beneath the floorboards. During our entire meal I pick at my food. I only manage to get down some bites of buttered bread, along with a cherry tomato and a few morsels of steak. So long as a little of everything is touched, it can appear as if I’ve eaten. Although I dread each time I have to look Alex in his eyes, I love him with all my soul. Finally, he and I are officially married.

Which leaves Christine. My conscience tells me I should have gone to check up on her by now. I came so close to slitting her throat, only to lose my nerve at the last second. No, it’s better this way, leaving her to die from exposure, then cut away the ropes on my last day here and shove her into the sea. Then, no one can say it was me who killed her. Nature did.

As everyone gets ready to make their toasts, I sip a glass of soda and push my still-full dinner plate away. In a few hours, I remind myself, the longest day of my life will be over. My dad clinking his wine glass and shuffling his seat away from the table snaps me out of my fugue.

“I am not a man of many words,” he says, rising to his feet, his face especially ruddy beneath his strawberry-blond brush cut. “I just want to say how proud I am today of my eldest girl, who always does the right thing in her life, no matter what it throws at her. Thank you.”

He leans down and hugs me tight, then returns to his seat. That sure was fast. With luck the rest of the night will speed by too. Earlier he volunteered to go check on Christine; I told him not to risk it.

Alex stands and my heart leaps out of my chest. I’m getting downright paranoid. “I’ll keep this brief as well.” He rests his hand on my bare shoulder and says, “A little over seven months ago, I met Marissa, the light of my life. Admittedly there was a slow start to the proceedings earlier ...”

All the surrounding wedding guests chuckle. Oh, if they only knew. Alex sighs and smiles down at me. A genuine smile, which warms in inside. The kind of smile that erases any doubts I’ve had. If only it could erase my regrets so easily.

“As we’ve said to each other many times over the course of our journey so far: it’s not the wedding that’s important, but who you are marrying. This is just one day. Marriage is for life and I want to make the most of it every single day. I couldn’t have picked a better person to spend the rest of it with.”