“I’m not feeling well,” I say, slipping away from him and into bed.
“Sorry, I know.” He comes back into bed, and soon he is snoring again. I watch the clock tick away the minutes. I close my eyes, not expecting to sleep at all, but I drift off now and then, and in the morning, I’m up early. I put on my robe and slippers, and I go into the kitchen to make coffee. The pills are still in my pajama pocket.
When Jacob gets up to make a fire, I take two mugs from the cabinet and pour the coffee, turning my back to him. I reach into my pocket for the pills.
“You want honey?” I say. “The usual three spoons?”
“Maybe stop the honey. It’s not healthy.”
“Honey has antibiotic properties. It’s your one indulgence. You’re so good about everything else.”
“You’ve persuaded me.”
I let out a breath of relief, scoop in the honey, adding the pills as I stir. My fingers shake. The spoon rattles against the side of the mug. The pills break into pieces, but what if they don’t dissolve? How many pills have I dropped in? I lost count. What if they don’t knock him out? What if he tastes them? I stir the coffee vigorously. He feeds the fire. I take a tiny sip from his mug. The coffee has a slightly bitter taste. I stir in the milk. What if I accidentally kill him? What’s an acceptable overdose?
My hands tremble as I give him the mug. I’m aware of the contaminated liquid inside, as he adds another log to the fire.
Jacob gazes at the flame through the glass door of the woodstove. He sips his coffee, stops, and looks into the cup. He knows. He knows what I’ve done. He knows that I know I’m not married to him. He’s going to hurl the mug across the room. I am dead.
He says, “Hmmm,” and keeps sipping.
I nearly collapse with relief. I can’t say anything, can’t let on.
He puts the mug on the coffee table and sits on the couch, patting the cushion next to him. He didn’t drink enough. What if he doesn’t finish?
As I sit next to him, it’s as if our two coffee mugs are at center stage beneath a spotlight. He knows what I’m up to. He must know.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he says.
“I’m a little better,” I say.
“Last night . . . I’m sorry. I should have been more understanding.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Give me your feet,” he says. My heart beats in time with the wall clock. The refrigerator hums too loudly. What if he leaves his mug untouched?
I place my mug on the table. Mine is blue. His is white. I can’t get the mugs mixed up.
I put my feet in his lap. He massages them. I resist the urge to kick him in the face. I keep my breathing deep and even. Come on, drink the coffee. He eventually sits back and takes his mug from the table, watching the fire diminish. “Feels good to let go,” he says. “Doesn’t it?”
“Let go of what?”
“The past. Things better left behind.”
I’m not going to argue with him, not now. The last time we were here, on the island, I decided to go back to the mainland, to try again with Aiden. Jacob was furious. He threw the soap across the bathroom when I told him. He made the dent in the door. But a couple of months later, he called me. I miss you, he said. I’ll take friendship with you, if that’s what we have.
We met for a drink. I was surprised by how understanding he was. Kyra, he said, I hope it’s been obvious from the start that I really care about you. That all I want is for you to be happy. For you to be with a person who loves you, and who is willing to put you first. I told him that I wished him every happiness, too. When I started to gather my things, he said that Aiden had asked him about us. I had stopped moving then, sat down, and taken his hand. I remember pleading. Please don’t say anything, Jacob. He knows that you were there for me, but I haven’t told him that you were the man I was with during the summer.
He looked down at my hand. You know that I would do anything for you. Aiden may be blind to some things, but he’s going to be suspicious if we don’t spend time together, like we used to.
I know, I said. Let’s just give it time.
A few weeks later, Aiden said he’d been talking with Jacob about a dive and I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I decided to allow us this one outing all together. We were either going to slip back into our familiar dynamic, or I was going to tell Aiden the truth afterward.
Maybe he already knows, I thought. Maybe Aiden knows what I did and he understands. And maybe he forgives me.
So we went on the dive, all three of us. On the drive up to Deception Pass, we hiked at Ebey’s Landing. As I stumbled down the cliff into Aiden’s arms, I was wearing my wedding ring again, the one with the orca engraving, not this impostor ring.
Jacob’s ring glints in the light as he raises his mug to sip the coffee. “Tastes weird today.”