CHAPTER3
1064 Words
STRANGER IN THE MIRROR
"Talk about it over coffee?" I repeated, my voice higher than I wanted it to be. "We got married! How can you be this calm right now?"
Victor, or Benjamin, or whoever this man was, pushed off the doorframe and walked to the wardrobe like I had not just screamed at him. He pulled a t-shirt over his head calmly and turned to face me.
"Because panicking will not undo it," he said. "Trust me, I have been awake for an hour trying to piece this together. Panicking did not help."
I clutched the bedsheet around my body and swung my legs off the bed, my head spinning. "How did this happen? How did we go from a rooftop restaurant to... this?" I waved the marriage certificate in the air.
He sat on the edge of the armchair by the window and rubbed the back of his neck. "I called my lawyer an hour ago. His name is Francis. He is already looking into an annulment."
"An annulment," I breathed, pressing my free hand to my forehead. "Good. Great. Annulment. We do that and pretend this never happened."
"Exactly," he said, and there was a beat of silence between us. He cleared his throat. "Do you remember anything from last night? After the restaurant?"
I closed my eyes and tried. The restaurant. His laugh. More drinks. Dancing in a bar somewhere near the waterfront. Shots of something green. Then... a flash. A chapel with neon lights. My own laughter echoing off walls. His hand holding mine. A man in a white suit saying words.
"Bits," I admitted. "A chapel. Neon signs. That is about it."
He nodded. "Same for me. It is mostly black after the second bar."
I looked down at the ring on my finger and twisted it. It was beautiful, I could not deny that. Heavy. Real. Expensive. "Where did this come from?"
"I have no idea. I am guessing somewhere between the second bar and the chapel." He stood up and walked to the desk where a room service menu sat. "Listen, I have arranged for clothes to be sent up. Something comfortable for the flight back. And I can have breakfast ordered if you are hungry."
I stared at him. "You already arranged clothes?"
"You look about a size eight."
He was right, annoyingly. I narrowed my eyes. "Who are you?"
He looked at me with a small smile. "I told you. Victor."
"The certificate says Benjamin."
His smile faded slightly. "Benjamin is my first name. Victor is my middle name. I prefer Victor when I am not working." He handed me a glass of water from the tray on the desk. "Drink. You look like your head is about to split open."
I took the water because he was right about that too and drank the entire glass in one go. The cold helped. Slightly.
Twenty minutes later, a delivery arrived. Simple black jeans, a white blouse, flat shoes. All the right sizes. I showered in the massive bathroom, avoiding my own reflection because the woman in the mirror looked like a stranger who made terrible decisions, and came out feeling slightly more human.
He had ordered breakfast. Toast, eggs, fruit, coffee. We ate in silence for a while, seated across from each other at the dining table with the floor-to-ceiling windows showing Cape Town spread out below. Table Mountain sat in the distance, calm and solid, and I wished I felt half as steady.
"So," I said, setting down my coffee cup. "How does this work? The annulment?"
"Francis will handle it. He said he needs both our signatures and a few documents. He will contact you in a few days." He paused and studied my face. "I am sorry, Shaznay. I do not normally do this. Any of this."
"Get married to strangers?"
"Lose control." His jaw tightened. "I do not drink like that. Ever. I do not know what happened last night."
I believed him. Something in his voice, the frustration there, told me he was telling the truth. "Same," I said quietly. "I have a younger sister who depends on me. A grandmother. I do not get to be reckless. I never am."
His eyes softened. "You have people who need you."
"Yes." I pushed my plate away. "Which is why I need to get home."
He nodded. "Our flight leaves in an hour."
The flight back to Johannesburg was quiet. We sat side by side in the leather seats and I tried not to think about how good he smelled or how his arm brushed mine when he shifted. I was exhausted. My body ached and my head still pounded and the shame of what I had done sat heavy in my chest like a stone.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, the wheels were touching down and my head was resting on his shoulder. I jerked upright and smoothed my braids, heat flooding my cheeks.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Do not be." He was watching me with an expression I could not read. Warm, almost. Curious.
His driver took us through the Joburg traffic and dropped me at my flat in Braamfontein. I stood on the pavement, my arms wrapped around myself, and looked at him through the open car window.
"Thank you," I said. "For... getting me home safely."
He reached into his pocket and held out a business card. "My details. For the annulment paperwork."
I took the card and looked at it. Benjamin Victor. And beneath his name, the logo for Crown Properties.
My heart dropped to my stomach. Crown Properties. The company I was starting at on Monday. I looked at the card again, hoping I had read it wrong. I had not.
"Everything alright?" he asked.
"Fine," I said quickly, shoving the card into my pocket. "I will wait to hear from your lawyer."
He nodded. "Goodbye, Shaznay."
"Goodbye, Victor."
I turned and walked toward the entrance of my building. My legs were shaking. My hands were shaking. The card in my pocket felt like it weighed a thousand kilograms. I pushed through the front door, climbed the stairs, and stood outside my flat for a full minute before I found the courage to put the key in the lock.
Clara and Dorinda were going to lose their minds.
- Writer
