Sparrow

I leaned back in my seat, acutely aware of my foot that kept bouncing underneath the table, making the utensils clatter against my plate. I toyed with my cell phone. “Well?” I asked.

“You know, Sparrow, we never really got to know one another properly.” She propped forward on her elbows, like she was about to share a secret, but her voice was anything but friendly. “I’m kind of sorry we haven’t had time to talk.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. I felt the persistent hum of a catastrophe in the making.

“Catalina,” I said evenly, “I have ten more minutes before I need to get back to gutting fish. Whatever you came here to say, just spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

That seemed to shake her a little. She reached for the cell I held in my hand and stopped me from scrolling my thumb over the screen.

“Troy’s in love with me,” she said.

It never ceased to amaze me how a few simple words could shake you to your soul.

“He is,” she continued. “You know, we were engaged before I had Sam. Dated for three full years.” She was trying to catch my eyes. Desperately.

I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing my shock, but inside, the pieces of the puzzle were falling together, quickly, clumsily, with a screechy sound. They’d once been engaged. They were in love. They were a real couple.

“Funny, I don’t see a ring on your finger. Oh, wait, there it is.” I motioned at her left hand. “And whaddaya know? It belongs to Brock Greystone.”

“What, this thing?” She sniffed, waving her hand dismissively. Her engagement ring was considerably smaller than mine, but still gigantic to anyone who wasn’t a real-life princess. She wore a thin wedding band on the same finger. “Brock and I are just an arrangement,” she explained, smiling coyly.

And I believed her. After all, Brock had said so himself.

“Troy and I are a real item. That’s why he crawls back to me every Friday. You always work Fridays don’t you? I’m the only thing that keeps his charade with you bearable. Don’t get me wrong. He thinks you’re a nice girl. But, you know, just not a woman.”

My body vibrated with fury. My lungs squeezed, and every nerve and cell in me urged me to lunge across the table and strangle her.

Troy had a mistress.

And there she sat, in front of me, telling me that they were in love, no less.

Worst of all, I recognized her sweet, flowery, in-your-face perfume. The one that hung in the air in my bedroom the day we flew to Miami. The day Troy had sex with someone else.

“Bullshit.” My voice was low, even though I knew she spoke the truth. My lips kept moving, and what they said next surprised me. “If Troy loved you, he would have never shared you. It’s not in his DNA. He wouldn’t even share someone he doesn’t love.” Like me. “So if he had feelings for you? It would be you in his bed. Not me. Not anyone else.”

I made sense.

I made sense and it gave me a little strength. I pushed to my feet, pointing my cell at her face. “He’s stopped seeing you, hasn’t he? Months ago, I’m betting. That’s why you’re here. You’re desperate.”

By the color rising from her chest to her neck and up to her cheeks, I knew I was right.

She got up herself, glaring at me through a pinched smile. “The only reason it’s you in his bed and not me is because he made a deal with the devil. I know all about your marriage, Sparrow. It ain’t real.”

Somewhere in my mind, there was a tiny, cartoon version of me getting punched square in the face by a cartoon version of Cat. The cartoon-me stumbled backward and dropped to her knees.

But the real me strode toward the door that said Staff Only, knowing that if I stayed, I’d do something I’d regret.

Catalina followed, still taunting me from behind. “And the only reason you aren’t six feet under and Troy hasn’t gotten rid of you to make room for me is because I cheated on him with Brock. The little fling I had with my husband ended up with me getting pregnant with Sam.”

Her words were rushed, leaving her no room to inhale. Cartoon-Me took a shot in the shoulder, blood smeared on the wall behind her.

“Last but not least,” she said, making me hesitate in the doorway, “even after I crushed him, had someone else’s baby in my belly, Troy still took care of me. Did everything for me. What he and I have…honey, you don’t want to try and top that. It’d only mean more heartache for you, and I’d hate to see you getting your hopes up.”

Cartoon-Me jumped back to her feet, summoning false-strength for what she had to do next. “You know nothing about my relationship with my husband. Know nothing about what’s going on. All you know is this that Troy stopped showing up, and it’s killing you. You’re worried. And you should be.” I smiled. “Things change. People, too. Move on, I know he has. Bye, Catalina.”

With that, I slammed the door in her face so hard, the walls around me quaked.

Cartoon-Me kicked cartoon Catalina in the butt, sending her out of the blackening, shrinking cartoon frame. But the second Cat was out of the frame, it expanded again and Cartoon-Me went back to lying in a pool of her own blood.

Because Catalina was right. He might not love her.

But he didn’t love me either.

And the truth was, she knew the one thing he wouldn’t tell me—what made him marry me.