"I hear you've moved."
Nessa glanced up from her computer, and it took several moments to draw herself out of her work and back into the present. "Sorry, Professor?"
Espino stood beside her desk, his sallow face as sullen as usual. "My TA says your living situation has changed."
"It is." Nessa allowed herself the luxury of a smile. "I've moved in with my boyfriend."
Despite the ups and downs of the last few weeks, Nessa felt a settling in her soul when she thought about living officially with Dan. They'd barely been apart since their first night together, and his little room in the art-filled penthouse had become a safe haven against the madness in the rest of her life.
She and James had tried to limp along, but their friendship had suffered a major hit. Nessa realised everything had changed when she went back to their apartment for the first time since games night. As much as Nessa loved being with Dan, wearing the same wrap dress for three days straight and sleeping in Dan's tees wasn't a permanent solution, and she needed to see where things were at.
"Hello? James, are you home?" She walked through the apartment, which appeared empty. A scrap of lace lay on the sofa, a bustier she recognised as Lulu's, and Nessa just barely managed to contain a harrumph. It's none of my business what she and James are doing together – even if it is on his ten thousand dollar sofa...
"Nessa!" James exited the bathroom, a sheet-sized towel wrapped around his waist. His expression wavered between delight and despair as he said, "You're home? Can we talk?"
"I just came back to grab some stuff," she explained, trying not to make eye contact with him. James had always been comfortable walking around in a towel or boxer shorts in front of her, and Nessa had simply dismissed it as the actions of a man who saw her as nothing more than a platonic buddy. Now she questioned everything. Was it all an attempt to parade his gym-sculpted body in front of her, a lure for her to fall for him? It had never bothered her before but now she had Dan to think of, and all the rules had changed. "James, we can chat, but you need to put a shirt on."
"Oh. Alright." He wandered away forlornly as Nessa began to cram some clean laundry into a tote.
James reappeared at the door, clad in a tee and tailored jeans. "How much longer are you going to stay away?" he asked softly, watching her pack.
"James, you were the one who asked me to give you some space."
"I know, I know, I just... I miss you."
She couldn't say the same, and it made her feel like a bad person. She'd been overwhelmed with Dan, both versions, and James had slipped down her priority list. "I'm not sure," she answered as honestly as she could. "I didn't think it would make much of a difference if I'm here or not – don't you have Lulu and her lacy thongs keeping you company?"
She didn't say it out of jealousy, more out of annoyance; Lulu had used her, and it had worked. But James grinned. "Why? Would you rather have your lacy thongs keeping me company?"
"I don't wear thongs."
"I'm well aware."
"I'm not going to ask how you know that," she muttered, shoving past him into the bathroom, unable to cleanse her mind of the image of James sniffing his way through her panty drawer.
He followed, lamenting as she filled a plastic bag with toiletries. "Of course it matters when you're not here, Nessa. This place isn't the same without you; I'm not the same without you."
As she reached for her towel on the railing, Nessa realised something with total clarity. "James... We can't go back to how things were."
"What?"
She faced him, wanting to touch his shoulder but afraid the gesture would be misconstrued – and therein lay the issue. "I can't pretend I don't know you have feelings for me, and I don't want you to have to try and get over me while I'm living in the room next to yours."
"Nessa, please-"
"I have to move out."
His mouth gaped for second, then desperation took over his features. "Nessa, I swear, I won't make things hard for you."
"I know you won't, but they're going to be hard anyway. Me living here isn't fair on you." Or Dan for that matter, but that didn't need to be said.
"You said we would still be friends."
She saw how close to tears he was, the immovable playboy brought undone by unrequited love. "We will still be friends. But not roommates. I want you to give this thing you have with Lulu a serious go – god knows, she's waited long enough for it. You don't need me in the way of that."
He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, turning his face away. "Yeah. Whatever."
Despite everything she was still processing about Lulu, Nessa had to ask. "Do you care about her at all? Or is she just another notch?"
"She's... She's my match in a lot of ways," he admitted. "We see the world similarly, and we're both driven and materialistic. It almost feels like an arranged marriage."
It kinda is, Nessa thought dryly, contemplating everything Lulu had done to bring their relationship to this point. Trying to play to the positives, she said, "I hear the rate of divorce for arranged marriages is much lower than the people who chose their own spouses."
"That might be true, and yeah, maybe things could work out great with Lulu, but there's a problem."
"What's that?"
"She's not you." He reached for her shoulders, pulling her close. With intense eyes, he stared into her, their faces close. "Nessa, I swear, if you give me the chance, I will make you so happy. I will worship you and keep you safe and burn this whole world to the ground if it meant your happiness. Please. Just let me try."
His lips moved towards hers, but Nessa moved faster, twisting out of his grip and out of reach. "James, no. I'm sorry, but I'm with Dan." Her heart was beating frenetically, even though she had no fear of James. It was just unnerving to have to turn him down again so forcefully when she felt bad enough for doing it the first time.
Swiftly she snatched up her bags of gear and walked to the door as he watched silently. "I'll start making arrangements to be gone in a week or so. And you should have this back."
She laid her little phone on the kitchen counter, but James shook his head. "Keep it. I feel better knowing you have it."
"Okay. Goodbye, James."
For an odd moment, she swore he was going to block her exit, but then he stepped aside, defeated. "'Bye, Nessa."
When she told Dan about the conversation, she skipped the part where James had tried to kiss her and focused on the main issue; finding somewhere new to live.
"Move in here," he said, eyes bright with excitement.
"Dan, that's crazy. We've only been together a little while-"
"Move in here!"
"-And I don't want to put our relationship under that kind of pressure."
"Move.
"I'm going to ask around at college, maybe find someone with a room.
"In."
"Or I can look online, see what's available."
"Here!"
"Dan!" she laughed in exasperation. "This doesn't have to be your problem."
"It's not a problem." He reached for her feet, drawing them into his lap and rubbing circles on her arches. "It's a solution. I'm in love with you, and I want you to live with me. If that's something you want too, then let's make it happen!"
Internally, Nessa rattled off all the reasons they shouldn't do this. But the melody of her heart was louder, and it sang to be beside Dan every waking minute. "I love you too. And I want that too. Let's do it."
"Really? You'll move in with me? You love me?" He performed a series of flailing movements that Nessa interpreted as a happy dance, then he held out his fist. "Bump it!" he cried.
She did, laughing. "Now what?"
"We celebrate," he said, laying back on the couch and taking her with him.
Here she was now two weeks later, and everything was still golden. They woke up each day in their little room overlooking the city, then Nessa went off to her office at the university while Dan painted or contacted galleries and buyers. In the evenings they'd wander the city for hours, finding new favourite places to eat and talking about their days, then they'd go home and fall into bed again. Sure, she knew she was deep in honeymoon territory, but Nessa was in bliss.
She smiled at Espino, coming back from her own thoughts. "I'm very happy," she said, her smile wide.
He nodded. "I have a housewarming gift for you," he said.
Nessa couldn't have been more surprised if he'd told her he was actually part hamster on his mother's side. "You do?"
"Here." He handed her a small pot containing a plant with green needles and blue flowers.
"Rosemary," said Nessa, plucking a needle and crushing it to release its scent. She breathed in the delicious aroma and smiled. "I love rosemary."
The professor was watching her with a vacant expression. "I'm glad you like it," he said in monotone. "I knew a girl once. She liked rosemary very much."
A past lover? Nessa wasn't about to go digging. "Thank you, professor, this is very thoughtful."
"Do you know what rosemary is used for?"
"Lamb?" she joked. Seeing his serious affect, she tried harder. "Um, I think I remember reading a study about rosemary oil being used to treat neurodegeneration and to enhance memory."
"Good." He dropped into lecture mode, his eyes trained on the little plant. "Rosemary has long been associated with memory, and recent studies seem to show a correlation between the herbal properties of rosemary and cognitive function."
"I need all the help I can get when it comes to memory." This time, she wasn't joking at all. As soon as she'd returned from her final conversation with Dan, she'd tried to write down everything they'd spoken about, but the memory had slipped away as if she was trying to capture smoke in a paper bag. Something about peas? Walking Gus? A strange sexual position? Moments of clarity would hit her at the oddest times when it came to those strange trips into the future, but mostly she wondered if it had even happened at all.
Espino was still talking. "But rosemary is known for more than just memory; it signifies remembrance, especially when it comes to the deceased."
A chill tripped down Nessa's spine, and her fingers tightened on the small pot. "Is that so?"
"Mourners used to throw sprigs into graves as a symbol of remembrance. In Australia, they use rosemary during war commemorations." His face stretched into an odd smile, and he said almost dreamily, "'There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.'"
"Hamlet," said Nessa, recognising the quote.
"Yes. You like Shakespeare?"
"I played Ophelia once."
"And what a beautiful Ophelia you would have made." His eyes crawled over her face, and Nessa resisted the urge to shiver. He's just being nice, she chided herself. Don't let your experience with James poison your opinions of everyone else.
He opened his mouth to say more, but seemed to become distracted by a picture on her desk. "Miss Martin, is that a hawk?"
"It's Marty, and yes, my boyfriend Dan drew that."
She smiled and offered him the framed sketch. Dan had created a magnificent hawk flying above a flock of turkeys, which all looked upwards in confusion. He'd explained his gift by saying, "Sometimes you have to deal with turkeys in this world, but I know you'll always find a way to soar above them."
The professor touched the outline of the flying hawk reverently, and Nessa asked, "Do you like it, professor?"
"I have a... connection with hawks," he said, and if Nessa didn't know better, she would have sworn he was close to tears. "I used to teach at another university for many years. Their mascot was a hawk."
"Would you like the picture?" she asked, unsure what the protocol was here.
"No. Thank you." He roused himself and shoved the frame back into her hands. "For what it's worth, Miss Marty, I believe that your new living arrangements will be far more beneficial for your long term prospects."
"Uh... thanks?" She smiled awkwardly. "And thanks for the plant."
He grunted, turning to leave. Just as Nessa started to leave, he swung back and said, "One last word on rosemary; in the middle ages, brides used to wear a wreath of rosemary on their wedding days, and each guest as well as the groom would also wear a sprig." He nodded solemnly. "Because of this, rosemary was thought of as having mystical properties as a love charm."
Before Nessa could even begin to analyse that little titbit, he sidled away. Distinctly unsettled, she began to pack up. She needed to be home, to fall into Dan's waiting arms where they could laugh about her strange professor and his lack of social diplomacy.
With a brief shudder, she pushed the rosemary plant into the far corner of her desk. She couldn't bring herself to throw it out, but she wouldn't be watering it regularly either, and she definitely didn't want to have it sitting in Dan's room in the penthouse, radiating deceased army veteran energies all over the place and causing her to endless quote depressing Ophelia monologues.
As she reached the street, her phone rang. Digging it out from the depths of her bag, she looked at the screen and debated not answering. It was her fifth call from James since lunch, and since the weird interlude with Profession Espino she wasn't in the mood for any more madness at this point.
But five calls in two hours seemed excessive, even for James. Reluctantly, she answered. "Hey, James. Listen, if this is about me moving back, it's not going to happen. Please don't ask me."
"No, Nessa." His voice was strained, thin and high. "This isn't about you and me. I need to talk to you about Lulu."
Even worse. Shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other, Nessa marched down the street, letting some of her frustration off in his direction. "James, I can't be your relationship counsellor. I'm sorry, but if you need to talk about Lulu, you need to find someone else, because I'm not the right person."
"Nessa, please-"
"Look, it's just not that hard! If you want to be with her, give her affection, sex and compliments. If you don't, break it off quickly, and don't say that it's her whatever you do. Say it's you, that you're a messed up sociopathic man-child with serious commitment issues-"
"Nessa, shut up, okay?"
His raised tone cause her to stop, alarms ringing behind her eyes. "James? What's wrong?"
"It's Lulu." His voice broke into heaving sobs, unlike anything she'd ever heard from him before. "She went to meet with her brother yesterday and she never came home. Nessa, she's missing."
****
I'm thoroughly exhausted after a full day at home, and yet gladder by far than I was a few weeks before. My legs wobble me over to the sofa where I collapse, too fatigued to even reach for the remote. My plan for the rest of the evening is simple; mindless TV and sleep.
Bang, bang, bang. I jolt upright, peeved at the obnoxious blows on my front door. It's well after nine pm, and I'm not in the mood for entertaining visitors. In fact, there's only one person I can think of who'd be rude enough to land on my doorstep at this hour unannounced. James.
Gearing up to give him a piece of my mind – and not a pleasant piece – I cross to the door. "What?" I snarl as I slam it open.
Nessa stands there, the younger version of my wife, the one I was convinced I'd never see again. She is brimming with righteous fury that shimmers off her skin like a mirage and she snaps right back at me. "What? That's all you have to say to me?"
I wince from the volume of her tone. "Nessa, keep your voice down, please."
"Oh, I'm sorry, is it inconvenient for you to be called out on your complete lack of human decency?" She shoves past me into the apartment, her arms flicking in angry arcs. "I apologise for being upset by the fact that my best friend has gone missing, and you never said a word to me about it!"
I'm too tired for this. My brain is sodden with grief, my body is weary, my emotions are wrought. I want to react calmly, but I don't have the capacity. "Do not yell at me, Nessa. You have no idea the struggle I went through over choosing what to tell you and what to conceal."
"That's the problem right there, Dan - there shouldn't have been any struggle over this! Just a single sentence, 'Hey Nessa, tell Lulu not to go anywhere with her brother,' and she'd be home safe!"
"It's not that simple-"
"Yes, it is! God, do you even hear yourself? What could be simpler than saving someone's life?"
"Promises!" I yell, unable to keep my own temper from flaring. "Specifically, a promise I made to you, as my wife. So don't stand there and act as though you understand my motives for anything, sunshine. My life is so much more complicated than yours."
"Why? Because you're older?" She snorts. "Being older doesn't necessarily make you wiser – or more empathetic."
"I am trying to preserve our future, Nessa!
"What future!" she screams back. "How could I ever trust any version of you again after this? Because if this is who you are, if this is how your reasoning process works, I want nothing to do with it! What else aren't you telling me, Dan?"
"Don't ask me that," I say. "I can't answer, and you wouldn't want me too."
"What could possibly be worse than this?" Her voice is like a sonic boom inside our narrow living room, rebounding off the windows and magnifying her ire. "My friend is missing! She'll probably turn up dead like the others – and you don't even care!"
I snap. The fragile elastic band around my composure explodes open, as do I. "Stop acting like you're the only one who lost somebody, Nessa! You have no idea how much I've lost!"
"Then just tell me!"
"You!" I scream at her, my months of grief and terror detonating in a single syllable. "I've lost you, Nessa!"
She folds her arms over her heaving chest. "What are you talking about?"
"You've been taken by this maniac too. Eight weeks ago, you went for a walk with our dog and you never came back. The police think the serial killer has you, the same guy that took Callie and Lulu and the rest of them." I can feel the tears on my face, but I'm powerless to stop them. I'm destroying the woman I love as she stands in front of me, and I have to watch it happen.
Nessa's shoulders cave in as her hair falls forward like a shield. "You've been hiding this from me, this whole time?" she asks through gritted teeth. "How can you ever expect me to trust you again?"
"I don't," I say honestly.
"You've ruined us," she says, her tears falling now in time to mine. "You kept this from me, you didn't help me save Lulu. You've broken us, not this serial killer. How could you, Dan?"
"Nessa, I love you. I did what I believed was best."
I reach for her, my instinctive need to hold her as she cries strong enough to over-ride my common sense, but she pulls away viciously. "You believed wrong. You are not the man I thought you were. There's no way I could ever trust anything out of your mouth from this point onwards, here or in the past. How many more secrets are you hiding?"
I don't answer, because nothing I will say can possibly fix this. As we stare at each other, the sliding door beside the sun and moon painting opens, and a small figure appears.
Time freezes as Nessa and I watch the sleepy child wander into the light. "Daddy? Why are you yelling?"
Nessa gasps and pitches forward, landing on her knees as Summer turns her way. Their likeness is uncanny. They share flowing chestnut hair and the same shaped face, but the little girl has my clear green eyes, which land on Nessa and grow as wide as glowing suns.
"Mommy!" our daughtercries in delight as she launches herself into Nessa's arms. "Mommy, you're home!"
Do your fingers tighten on the edge of the cliff I've left you hanging on...? Are you desperate for the next chapter...? Leave me a vote, my darling, and I'll give you more... ;)
Did you suspect who the 'we' was that Bev spoke about? Will Lulu be okay? Is Nessa right to be mad? Did you know about the many creepy uses of rosemary? Leave a comment - or maybe just a cliff-hanger reaction, like an emoji :)
Until next time,
xxoo Kate