“Yeah,” I mumbled, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly.
I sat down beside her on the couch. The horror of that night and the following weeks crashed into me. Endless days and nights of uncertainty. Mounting anger, building right along with frustration. Guilt. An empty bed. A heart that wouldn’t stop breaking, over and over again. Each morning, waking up with the hope that today would be the day. Each night, going to bed alone, with a fresh wound.
Maia’s voice came at me from a distance, until I found myself fighting my way back to my living room again. “Sorry, what?”
“I said no wonder Bridget was a bit strange the first time I met her. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.”
I didn’t see any need to lie. “I think we were all a little blown away, to be honest. The similarities are…”
“Yeah,” she murmured, turning back to the photos on the wall opposite. “I can see that.”
She looked anxious, scared even. I tried to lighten the mood and make her feel more at ease. “They say everyone’s got a doppelganger. Y’know, someone who looks just like them, somewhere in the world? I guess you found yours.”
I followed her gaze. Photos of Em, of both of us, of both our families. I knew them all by heart, yet I found myself seeing them for the first time, only from a different perspective. What did they say about me, what story did they tell?
“It must be weird for you – for both of you,” she said.
I tried to shake it off. “Must be even weirder for you, finding out you have a double.”
She gave me a weak smile. She’d arrived here just minutes ago, excited. Now she looked close to tears. Maybe Alex should forfeit his nickname to me.
“Yesterday was her birthday,” I said. “Same day as Vinnie’s, three years apart.”
Maia cringed. “God. What horrible timing. I can’t believe she was so nice to me – and she gave me a job! I feel terrible.”
“Bridget’s an old hippie at heart. She believes in signs, fate, karma – all that stuff.”
“What about you? Do you believe in signs, fate, karma and all that stuff?”
Normally, I was so good at dodging questions like this. A shrug, a smart-ass quip and a quick change of subject. I was an expert. But not with Maia, not here. Maybe it was the fact that she stared back at me so openly, so honestly that it made me want to open up to her, or maybe it was something else. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” I said truthfully.
She nodded, staring at the coffee mug in her lap, her hands wrapped around it.
“What about you?” I asked quietly. “Do you believe in signs, fate, karma and all that stuff?”
Several beats of my heart later, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’m kinda in the same boat as you, to be honest.”
She seemed lost, Bridget had said. I could see now how accurate that first impression was. She gave off an air of vulnerability so thick, I felt like I was wading through it. I had a hundred questions I wanted to ask her, but the timing was all wrong. She’d done me the courtesy of not giving me the third degree about what she saw yesterday morning. I’d give her the same courtesy.
Instead, we sipped our coffee in silence.
I FINISHED MY MOWING jobs twice as fast on Monday. The renewed energy was a surprise, as was the fact that I hadn’t been able to get Maia out of my head all weekend. Saturday’s lesson had almost been lost, but I was somehow able to get it back on track again, and we’d spent a couple of hours on my back lawn as I taught her the basics.
She was a fast learner, brimming with natural talent. She had a good command over her body, and followed directions well. I gave her lots of praise, and she responded with growing confidence. It wouldn’t be long before we’d be heading out to the beach at this rate.
The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to know. There was a story there, I could feel it. She seemed like a loner, quiet and shy at first, but the more time we spent together, the more she seemed to relax. Despite that, she didn’t really open up about herself. I could see that I was going to have to earn her trust. That suited me just fine. If she’d thrown herself at me, I probably would’ve run a mile.