Derailed (31 page)

As for Rival, could she be playing me? I know she loves me, I’m convinced that she does, but…so did Liefie, yet when she was cornered, she did what she had to and…she was able to conceal it to such a degree that I was duped for years. She made me believe she was broken over my rejection, made me stew in my guilt, when all along she was spending nights with Vlad. That was deception at its finest. Is Rival going to do the same thing to me? I keep telling myself Rival’s not like that. Yet, I can’t get Scarlett’s words out of my head. They gong in my head all the time.

RIVAL

As usual, Ritchie and I sneak into our house for our daily dose of loving. But today, his mood is somber.

“Everything okay, babe?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says with a smile that appears forced. 

Maybe Liefie is giving him trouble, I think to myself. Well, our time is limited, so I’m not going to let anything ruin our mood. Once inside our bedroom, I push him on the bed and climb over him. As expected, once I kiss him, he starts to melt and flips me so that he’s on top of me. We kiss and start to undress each other, when suddenly he stops and sniffs loudly at my hair. 

“What?”

He frowns as he sniffs again. 

“What? I smell bad?”

He continues sniffing, releases me, and pulls away from me. “You smell of…Bradley!”

“C’mon, I don’t.”

“No seriously, you do, Rival.” His tone is accusing. “Have you been…holding him or…some…thing?” He pulls back a little more. 

“NO!”

He takes my palm and puts it to his nose. “Hugging him? Rival, you smell so strongly of Bradley.” He gets to his feet and looks down at me on the bed, something like anger in his eyes.

“No! Why are you asking such a stupid question, Ritchie?”

“It’s not a stupid question, Rival. It’s a question, for fuck’s sake.”

“You need to stop being jealous. It’s a total turn off. Seriously.” I roll up in bed and glare at him.

For a while he stares at me.

“What?”

“I can’t do this,” he mutters.

“Can’t do
what
? Everything is fine right now, Ritchie. We are drama free. Why are you bringing drama into it?”

He paces. “Rival…Rival, I’m not imagining it; I can smell his aftershave on you and your hands. They smell of Bradley. I mean, how does a man’s aftershave get onto you? Imagine if I smelled of a woman’s perfume, Rival?”

“Oh God!” I mutter falling flat on my back.

“I don’t know, but I have to wonder if…if…if you’re fucking him.”

I jerk upright. “But I’m not, Ritchie. I’m not!”

He stares at me. “You’d really tell me if you did? Huh?”

I turn away.

“Seriously?”

I hesitate before I answer, because deep in my heart, I know I wouldn’t tell him if I was. “Yes.”

A long silence follows.

“I’m going nuts,” he finally says, shaking his head and pacing.

“I think you are.”

He looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time.

“What?” I ask.

He throws open the balcony door and steps outside. I don’t follow him. I leave him to cool down. Besides, I’m mad at him for accusing me of something I’m not guilty of.

I sniff my hands. Strangely, they do smell of Bradley’s scent. How? I have absolutely no idea.

Ritchie steps back into the room. Good, now he’s cooled down and rational.

What he says next shocks me. “I need to leave here, Rival.”

“What?”

“I need to put some distance between us. It’s the only way I can think – when I’m away from you.”

“Ritchie, please don’t…”

“I think I’ll go abroad for a while, just to clear my head. Somewhere far away from you. Eh,
here
.”

“No!”

“Hawaii. I’ll go there for…no, South Africa! Yeah, I’ll go to South Africa for a while.”

“No!” I leap to my feet, run over to him and throw my arms around him. “I won’t let you go. I can’t live without you, Ritchie. Don’t do this. I love you. Only you.”

He holds me tight and I hear the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just need to…” He stops and starts sniffing loudly again.

“Stop it, Ritchie!” 

Gently but firmly, he untangles himself from me. “I have to, Rival. I need clarity, I need distraction, and God, I need to be far away from you so I can get –”

“Ritchie, no –”

“Think about me for a moment here, Rival. I have feelings, dammit! I am struggling with this. I have to get away from you.” In a bemused state, he rushes into the dressing room and brings out suitcases.

I run after him. “Now? You want to leave now?”

He nods, opens a suitcase, and starts throwing clothes into it.

“Wha…what about the kids?”

He hesitates for a few moments, then says, “I’ll take them with.”

“But there’s school.”

He doesn’t answer. There is a finality I have never seen before in Ritchie. What the hell is happening here? I did nothing wrong. As if he remembers I’m still around, he stops packing and turns to look at me.

When he sees the tears in my eyes, he reaches for me. “Rival, I’m –”

I step back out of his reach. “So this is goodbye?” I croak. “You need to get away so badly from me that you have to leave the country? Right
now
? With your ch…children, Ritchie?”

He doesn’t answer.

“All because you think I smell of Bradley?” I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry, and there’s no need for you to leave because…I won’t see you anymore.”

“I gotta do this, Rival. It’s the only way.”

“Take me back to my car,” I say as I grab my purse.

He doesn’t try to stop me from leaving, which further breaks my heart. We drive in stony silence to get my car. When he parks the Jeep, I get out without a word. Again, he doesn’t try to stop me or call me back like he would usually do.

I’m not sure what breaks my heart more – his need to get far away from me, his total distrust of me, or the fact that he doesn’t try to stop me from leaving.

Chapter Twenty-two

SCARLETT

I think my aftershave trick worked. Rival is sporting the train-wreck look again. Her eyes are red-rimmed, the dark rings under her eyes match that black Target bag she carries around, her hair is once again in a ponytail, and frumpy sweatpants are the order of the day. Deflated balloon all over again. Maybe Ritchie dumped her? I think he did. No more secret rendezvous for this little slut. I pat myself on the back, then reward myself with another cocktail. 

RITCHIE

It is a great idea, coming to South Africa. Brilliant idea, actually. The impressive Table Mountain, the breathtakingly beautiful beaches, the splendid molasses sunsets, the familiar South African accents of family and friends…fantastic! Why did I leave South Africa in the first place?

Everyone vies for my attention and
demands
I stay with them – my two younger sisters, my cousins, my aunts, and my friends, who I haven’t seen in ages. But I choose to share my stay with both my sisters, who spoil both me and my kids. Talking about kids – my three robust terrors keep me vigilant almost twenty-four-seven. Because of that, I’m far too busy and distracted to think about anything that will kill my holiday vibe. Or
anyone
.

Well, that’s not altogether true. When the kids fall asleep, the noise dies, the day fades, and it’s just me and my thoughts. It is then that I find myself thinking about the woman I ran away from – Rival. I miss her. So much. In spite of video footage Scarlett showed me, in spite of Rival vehemently denying anything between her and Bradley, I ache for her.

She hasn’t called, hasn’t texted – obviously she’s not missing me that much.  Probably at some fancy restaurant with Bradley. I sit up in bed and thump my pillow a few times.

I wish I had never met her. If only Arena hadn’t gone to Canberra that day she asked me to pick up Rival from the police station. Life would have been so easy.

It’s my fault – I’ve become too dependent on her. I need to date again. Meet other women who will make me forget Rival. Shock my system, reboot myself. Isn’t that how I got over losing Liefie? Rival captured my heart, and Liefie was history.

When I go back to Australia, I am going to date with a vengeance. Become promiscuous. Anything that moves, I’m going to fuck it. If it doesn’t move, I’m going to move it, then fuck it. There’ll be safety in numbers.

By week three, I not only miss Rival, I miss Australia. I never thought I’d say this, but I really miss Sydney, and I can’t wait to get back home.

When it’s time to buy gifts for everyone in Sydney, my sisters take me shopping. I buy a ton of stuff for Arena and her family, Liefie and Vlad, and for our admin ladies at work. I even buy a gift for Liefie’s unborn baby. But I haven’t bought anything for Rival. Even though I know I won’t be seeing her again, I want to. I feel
compelled
to. But I find nothing that I would like her to have. Nothing that special. 

The day before my flight back to Sydney, I stumble upon the perfect gift for her – a gold choker with a pendant in the shape of a cougar with striking sapphires for eyes. It’s a beautiful piece of South African jewelry, and I know she’ll look great in it. I can just imagine the look on her face.
You calling me a cougar?
Then we’ll laugh.

“Oh, that’s beautiful, Pig,” little Becky says, bringing me down to earth. “Mum will love that.”

“Yeah,” I say in an absentminded voice as I hand the teller my credit card.

RITCHIE

Home sweet home! It’s great to be back in Sydney, and it’s even greater being in my own home again. We’re in our living room surrounded by suitcases, and my kids are digging into them for the gifts.

“This is for Aunt Arena.”

“This is for Warren!”

“This is for Mum.”

“This is for Amy!”

“This is for Holly.”

“This is for Phoebe.”

“Here’s one for Uncle Bear.”

“Here’s one for Girly.”

“Here’s one for the new baby.”

“Here’s another one for Mum. Lucky you, Mum, you have two gifts!”

Leaving them all to their gifts, I venture onto my patio and stare into the dark.
Rival
. Even though I told myself I want nothing to do with her, I think about calling her and giving her the choker. It’s been three weeks since I’ve talked to her, since I’ve made any contact with her – will she tell me to take a hike?

Losing the nerve to call her, I turn and walk into the room again. Everyone has their gifts and shouts out their thanks to me.

“You’re all wel –” I stop when I see Liefie wearing the cougar choker.

“It’s so love…ly…” she trails, caressing the choker, a slight frown on her forehead.

We lock eyes for a moment, before I look away. What can I do? I can’t very well take it from her and say, “Hey, sorry, it’s not for you, it’s for Rival.”

When I look at her again, she is still looking at me. Does she know, perhaps? Something tells me she knows. Maybe later she will approach me and give it back? I hope she does, because if she doesn’t, I have no gift for Rival. When Liefie finally leaves, it is with the choker. 

RIVAL

Ritchie’s been back for more than a week, and he hasn’t made contact with me. Disappointing. Terribly, terribly disappointing. Hasn’t he missed me like I have missed him? How could he not? How long must I wait before I call him? It’s 2015 – maybe I should make the first move? I pick up my phone and type out a text.
Hey stranger how r u.

Too stiff. I delete it and type out another text.
Welcome back how was South Africa.
Sounds a little awkward.

I delete that and type out another text.
Hey Ritchie, brought back any wild animals? Besides yourself.
I smile as my finger hovers over send. With a shake of my head, I retype my text. But, my disappointment is overshadowed by immense pride. I delete the text and put away my phone. He’ll have to call me if he wants to talk to me.

Pride – you know what they say it comes before. Guess I can expect to fall sometime soon. 

RITCHIE

I’m at one of those student-parent picnics and bored shitless. All these parents talk about is which private high school their kids are going to.
High
school. Their kids are six and seven years of age, for Christ’s sakes!

“You look bored with these fuckers.”

I look up into Maxine’s face. She’s is one of the school mothers, as well as one of my enamored bank consultants.

“Try these,” she says, proffering a plate of tiny savory pies.

I chuckle and accept a savory, at the same time taking in her legs. They’re great. She’s the only mother wearing shorts and a tight sweater.

“You can tell?”

She sits next to me. “All they talk about is their kids – my kid is like this, my kid is like that. Bores me to death, Ritchie.”

I laugh. “Ditto. Hey, these are delicious. Did you make them?”

With a nod, she pushes the plate at me. “It’s like they have to outshine each other every time they open their mouths. It annoys me so much, I put weed in the pies and offer it to them.”

I freeze with a mouthful of pie, my eyes bulging.

“Couldn’t you tell?” she asks in a sweet voice.

Slowly, I shake my head.

“Relax, I’m kidding!” Her eyes crinkle.

“Whew! Got me there, Maxine.”

“I’ve thought about it, you know. After my
heavenly
pies, school picnics will never be the same again, and life would be bearable for all.”

“Yeah, but just remember these fuckers will be driving home with
kids
in the car.”

“Mm,” she says, her lips curling. “It’ll be jail time for me. I’m a great cook, so I would probably hate prison food.”

“These are really great, Maxine,” I say, motioning to the pies. “All I have to offer you are cheeses, crackers, dips and…Coke. The one you drink.” I laugh as I offer her the platter.