I'm Married To Your Rival Now

The alarm did not wake me up. I was already staring at the ceiling. Five days. That was the number in my head. Five days until I walked down the aisle. I counted it again, just to be sure. Five. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it so fast I almost dropped it on my face. It was Daniel. "Dinner at eight. La Perle. Wear a green dress. I have a surprise," he said." I read it three times. Then I pressed the phone into my chest and smiled like a goofy kid. La Perle. The fancy place with the chandeliers. Daniel had promised to take me there since we were nineteen and too broken to even look through the window. "Okay," I whispered to the empty room. "Okay, listen. "Today is a good day." I got up and padded into my tiny kitchen. The floor was cold under my socks. The radiator clanked like someone was hitting it with a spoon. I made tea. I always make tea when I'm nervous. My mom used to do the same thing. The phone rang again. This time it was Lily. "Happy Valentine's Day, future bride," she sang. "Are you up? Are you glowing? Are you throwing up from joy?" "I'm up," I said. "And no, I'm not throwing up." "Liar. You sound like anyone else who counted her toes three times," she said." I laughed. "Only twice." La Perle. I could hear her smiling. Then I heard a beeping noise behind her, and a cart rolling. "I'm at work. A man just came in with a fork stuck in his hand. Don't ask." La Perle." "Liar. "Okay, listen. Your final fitting is Saturday at two. Do not be late. Mrs. Kowalski said she will hunt you down." "I'm at work." "And tonight?" Lily's voice got softer. "What's the plan?" I looked at the text on my screen again. "Daniel booked La Perle. He said he had a surprise." There was a pause. It was only a second, but I heard it. "That's great," Lily said. Her voice sounded a little too bright. "That's really great, Liv." "You don't sound like it's great," I said." "I'm just tired. La Perle." "Liar. Five. "Liar." She sighed. "I just want him to show up. That's all. I want him to show up and stay put and look at you the whole night. Not at his phone. Not at the door. At you." My stomach tightened. I looked down at my tea. "He will," I said. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "He's been busy, that's all. Work is crazy right now."" "Sure," Lily said gently. "Work." She didn't say the other name. She didn't have to. It hung between us like smoke. Vanessa. "I have to go," Lily said. "Call me if you need me. "Call me if you need me, even if it's three in the morning." "I know." "I mean it." "I know, Lily. Love you." Love you more. Go be happy." She hung up. The kitchen got very quiet. I stood there holding my cup and looking out the window. Across the street, an old man was shoveling snow off the steps of a laundromat. He moved slowly, like his back hurt. That's the thing about Queens. Everybody is always doing a hard job in the cold, and nobody makes a big deal out of it. My mom used to say that. Be like the old man with the shovel, Olivia. Keep going. Don't make a speech about it. She died when I was fifteen. I still remember the exact day. It was raining. I sat on the front stoop of our apartment building because I couldn't stand being inside, where all the relatives were whispering, and the casserole dishes were stacking up. I didn't cry. I couldn't. I just sat there and watched the water run down the steps. Then someone sat down next to me. It was Daniel. He was sixteen, tall and skinny, with a stupid wet haircut and a coat that was too big for him. He didn't say anything. He didn't apologize. He didn't say she's in a better place. He just sat there with me, close enough that our shoulders touched, and stayed. He stayed for three hours. That was it. That was the whole reason I loved him. He stayed. I shook my head and rinsed my cup. Enough of that. Today was Valentine's Day, and I had a green dress to try on. I went to the closet and pulled it out. It hung there in its plastic bag, shiny and soft, the color of a deep forest after rain. I'd bought it three months ago. I'd walked past the shop window every day for a week before I went in. The saleswoman had looked me up and down and said, "Honey, this was made for you." I unzipped the bag and held the dress up against myself in the mirror. "Okay," I said to my reflection. "Let's see if you still fit." I slipped it on. The fabric slid over my arms like cool water. I reached behind me to pull up the zipper. It stuck halfway. "Come on," I muttered. I wiggled and tugged. "Don't do this to me today." It finally slid up. I smoothed the skirt and stood back. For a second, I almost didn't recognize the woman in the mirror. She looked taller. She looked like someone who had her life figured out. But her eyes looked tired. There were little shadows under them that makeup hadn't covered in weeks. I touched my cheek. "You're fine," I told her. "You're just nervous." My phone buzzed again. I smiled and grabbed it. Probably Daniel. Maybe he wanted to say something sweet. But it wasn't his name on the screen. It was a number I'd never seen before. I frowned and opened the message. "Don't go tonight." That was it. Three words. No name. No hello. My heart did a weird little flip. "What?" I said out loud. I read it again. Don't go tonight. I looked around my room like someone might be hiding behind the curtain. I had believed him. But my skin prickled anyway. "Okay, this is a joke," I said to myself. "Somebody got the wrong number. That's all." But the message came right after I'd sent a picture of my dress to Lily. What kind of wrong number does that? My fingers shook as I typed back. "Who is this?" I sent it before I could chicken out. Then I sat on the edge of my bed and waited. The radiator clanked. Somewhere downstairs, a baby started crying. The old man across the street had finished shoveling and gone inside. Seconds passed. Maybe a minute. I was about to put the phone down and laugh at myself when it buzzed again. "Someone who watched you get hurt before." My mouth went dry. Before? Before, when? I thought back through my whole life. The funeral. The hospital. The night Daniel's mom told me, very sweetly, that "girls like me" didn't usually last in families like theirs. She had smiled when she said it. She'd even poured me more wine. I had told myself I was being too sensitive. I typed fast. "What do you want?" The reply came right away. "To help you. Ask Daniel where he was on December 14th." December fourteenth. I knew that date. I knew it better than my own phone number. It was the night Daniel had missed our ten o'clock call for the first time in seven years. He said he'd fallen asleep in the office. I had believed him. I had even felt guilty for waking him up with a text. That was the same week Vanessa Cole came back to New York. My hands went cold. "Who are you?" I typed again. This time I pressed so hard my thumb hurt. No answer. "Please," I wrote. "Tell me who you are." Nothing. I stared at the screen until the words blurred. My own face looked back at me in the dark glass. I looked like a girl in a green dress who had just been told her house was on fire. I stood up slowly. My knees felt wobbly. "Okay," I said out loud, trying to sound brave. "Okay. Think, Olivia." I started to pace. Three steps to the window. Three steps back. Maybe it was Vanessa herself, trying to mess with my head. She was the type. All soft voice and big blue eyes and a talent for showing up at the exact wrong time. Or maybe it was someone who actually cared. I stopped at the mirror again. The woman in the green dress stared back at me with wide, scared eyes. "What if it's true?" I whispered to her. "What if he's lying?" She didn't have an answer. I thought about all the canceled dinners. The late calls. The way Daniel's phone always lay face down on every table now. The way he said, "Vanessa needs me" was like it was a weather report. I thought about Eleanor's pearl smile. I thought about the tiny voice in my chest that kept saying, Olivia, something is wrong, and the louder voice that said, Don't be dramatic, he loves you, he stayed. My phone buzzed one more time. I jumped like someone had pinched me. It was Daniel. "Can't wait to see you tonight. Love you." I stared at it. Two messages. Two voices. One telling me to stay, and one telling me to run. My thumb hovered over the screen. I couldn't decide which one to answer. Then a third message popped up from the unknown number. "If you go, don't drink anything, he hands you. And whatever happens tonight, Olivia, don't let Vanessa get you alone!" What did they know that I didn't?