Mister Wrong by Nicole Williams
This was the person I’d fallen in love with—instead of the one I’d been reminding myself I loved lately.
“You lead, I’ll follow.” Jacob motioned at the trailhead, waiting for me.
I started up the trail at a solid pace, feeling like I needed to burn out the emotions and adrenaline I’d stored up. My legs were on fire when he tapped my arm with a bottle of water.
“Drink. I don’t need you getting dehydrated on me.” He was breathing a little harder than normal, but not much. Jacob might not have been into hiking, but he stayed fit.
“Are you going to wipe my brow next?” I smiled back at him, taking the water to have a few sips.
“If you want me to.” His eyes met mine for a moment as we wound up the trail. “Whatever you want, all you have to do is ask.”
My head turned to focus on the trail. “I’d like to have the truth. The real reason you missed our wedding.”
“I already told you—”
“You remember something,” I interrupted. “I’ve seen you drink a whole fifth of scotch and walk a straight line like it was nothing. You might have been drinking that night—a lot—but you remember something.” I took a breath. “I want to know what that something is.”
“Cora—”
“No.” My head shook. “Just the truth. That’s all. That’s all I want from you right now. I don’t want anything else until I have that.”
“Anything else I told you wouldn’t be the truth though, baby. Don’t you get it? I can’t tell you anything but what I remember about that night, and there’s nothing I can recall.” There was the slightest edge in his voice. I was questioning him—pushing him—and he didn’t like it. “What about just the truth from you? That’s all I want too. Matt won’t say anything—he told me to ask you. And you won’t say anything because you’re too busy accusing me of something you think I did that I can’t remember.”
My pace was picking up as the trail grew steeper. My heart was hammering, my lungs straining, my legs burning, but I couldn’t slow down. I couldn’t stop. I was finally moving forward, and I knew I couldn’t stop for fear of never being able to restart again.
“You already know what happened.” I glanced over my shoulder; he’d fallen back a few steps but was still following. Jacob’s chest was moving fast now too. “You didn’t show up. Matt made an impulsive decision, put on your tux, and was the one waiting for me when I walked down that aisle. We said our vows”—I left out the kissing part. Jacob already knew it and hearing me say it would only set him off—“we went to the reception, then St. Thomas. And then the next day, I found out what had happened. That’s the truth.”
I kept moving, knowing that wasn’t the whole truth. Jacob wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was either. He knew something else had happened—he just didn’t know to what degree.
“The next morning. You didn’t find out that Matt was Matt until the next morning.” He let those words simmer in the air. “That means you spent your first night of your honeymoon, as man and wife, doing what? Watching reruns and ordering room service? Holding hands and reading to each other?” Jacob paused, the sarcasm in his voice palpable. “Fucking like a couple of animals until the sun rose?”
My feet broke to a stop. Slowly, I turned around to face him. He didn’t stop moving up the trail until he was right in front of me. His eyes met mine and I made sure to look straight in them. “You want to talk to me like that, you’ll just have to wait for your precious answers.”
My voice was calm, but everything beyond that wasn’t. He knew. He could see it in my face or had read it on Matt’s or had figured it all out on his own. Jacob knew Matt and I had been together the way any couple would on their wedding night. He knew. Now he just needed to hear me confirm it.
“I’d been drinking. One minute I was awake, and then I woke up the next morning. I don’t remember. Sorry.” As I fed his words back to him, his jaw ground together, but he stayed quiet. “To tell you anything else would be a lie.”
Turning around, I attacked the rest of the trail. I knew I couldn’t not tell Jacob, but for right now, this would have to do. I wasn’t ready to tell him the truth, and from the anger I could imagine dammed up inside him, he wasn’t ready to hear it either.
This wasn’t the right time. Out here in the middle of some isolated trail, no witnesses, no where to go besides up or down was not the ideal spot for someone to tell their jealous-to-the-extreme fiancé they’d just slept with his brother. Multiple times. And that it had been the best sex of my life—not that I was planning on mentioning that, but still, it was the truth.
My shoulder lifted as I moved. “I just can’t remember,” I repeated, wondering if he believed those words as much as I had.
“Don’t play games with me.” His feet scrambled up the trail after me. “Don’t lie to me.”
When my head whipped back to glare at him, I found him right behind me again. So close his feet were falling into my footprints as soon as I stepped away. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? You accusing me of lying? You accusing me of playing games?”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what that means.”
The sky was a swirl of grey, but the wind was just a breeze back here. I couldn’t tell if that was because we were sheltered from the storm or if the storm was dying, but it made me hopeful that we’d weather it.
“Enlighten me.” Jacob’s hand found my wrist, pulling on it to stop me.
My eyes narrowed into slits at him before dropping to where his hand was tied around my wrist. “Let me go.”
“Not until you tell me what happened.” With his other hand, he found my waist and twisted me around.
My blood felt like lava right then—molten and scorching. “Take your hands off me. Now.” I gave him a moment to do so. He didn’t. “You want answers, this is the guaranteed way to never get them.” I tried to shake his hand off of my waist, but it felt plastered to me. His fingers roped around my wrist felt the same. “Jacob, I’m serious. Take your damn hands off of me.”
“Why? You like Matt’s on you better?”
My free hand twitched at my side, coming so close to slapping him I could feel the tingle in my palm from the imaginary strike. “Let. Go.”
His head shook, his eyes trained on mine. “No.”
I pulled against him, but he was as serious about not letting go as his hold was. “Let me go, Jacob.”
His fingers only tightened, making my wrist hurt enough I could feel my pulse throbbing in it. “Never.”
I could see from the look in his eyes he was talking about something other than just our present situation, but I was not in an understanding mood right then. Since words were getting me nowhere, I pulled against him. It didn’t get me far. Using every scrap of strength in my body, I twisted and pulled against him, somehow managing to get free of his hold all at once.
All of my momentum sent me flying backward though, staggering a few steps until the heel of my boot caught on something.
Jacob tried to grab my hand to catch me as I fell—I didn’t miss the look that cast over his face as I flew back—but he couldn’t get to me. I had just enough time to try to twist around to break my fall, just getting one hand beneath me when my body crashed into the ground.
A breath rushed out of my lungs from the impact, my body feeling like I’d just collided with a slab of cement instead of compacted earth.
“Cora! Shit! Are you okay?” Jacob slid onto his knees beside where I’d fallen on the trail, his face worried as he scanned my body like he was looking for signs of blood or bones puncturing through the skin.
It had been a hard fall, but not that bad of one.
“I’m fine.” My eyes squeezed closed as I started sitting up, my head throbbing from the movement. It wasn’t until I’d sat up that I felt one side of my face was hot and wet. When my hand touched my temple, where the pain was resonating from, my fingers came away glazed with blood.
“Your head.” Jaco
“Yeah, I just figured that out,” I said, realizing the blood was winding down my face and dripping onto my tank. Great time and place to get a head injury.
“I need to get you to the hospital.” Jacob had already taken off my daypack and was unbuttoning his dress shirt. He pulled out of it one arm at a time.
My head shook as I touched at my temple again. Head lacerations bled like crazy. “No, get me to Matt. I don’t want to go to a hospital for a few stitches.” I guessed it would only take a few, instead of the fifty it seemed from all of the blood flowing from it. “He can take care of me. Just take me back to Matt.”
I hadn’t realized what I’d said, or how I’d said it, until I looked at Jacob.
“Please? He travels everywhere with the requisite doctor stuff for exactly this kind of thing. I’d rather have him stitch me up than someone I don’t know after waiting who knows how long in an emergency room.”
Jacob didn’t say anything, but he nodded. “If that’s what you want, I’ll get you back to Matt.”
The note of resignation in his voice confused me. I’d expected more anger, but instead I’d found almost the opposite. I’d expected a fight instead of a surrender.
“Don’t.” My head shook as he gripped the arm of his shirt. “It’s your favorite shirt. I’ve got a bandana in my bag we can use and some gauze in the first aid kit.”
Jacob didn’t say anything. He just ripped off the sleeve of his shirt. “Yeah, and you’re my favorite person. Hell with the shirt.”
As he pressed it to my head, I sat still, watching him from the corner of my eye. He looked so worried, like I was droplets away from bleeding out or something. So guilty, like this was his fault.
“It’s not your fault, Jacob. I tripped. It’s okay—I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t say anything; he just stayed crouched beside me, pressing his shirtsleeve to my temple like he could do it all day without getting tired.
“I need to get you back down to the trailhead,” he said, his voice sounding far off. “Can you hold this against your head okay?” He gently lifted my hand and folded it over the shirtsleeve. He was waiting for my answer.
“Think I can muster up the strength somehow.” I managed a smile, but he didn’t see it. He was too busy snapping up my pack and scooping me into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you down the trail.” His arms curled around me, feeling as strong as they did careful, right before he hoisted me up from the ground.
“Jacob, put me down.”
“Not happening.” He was already moving down the trail, every step as sure as the one before.
“It’s my head that’s the problem. My legs are working just fine.” I lifted my eyebrows at him, but his focus was aimed on the trail he was moving down especially fast, given he was carrying a grown adult.
“I’m getting you down this thing. In one piece.” His hands formed deeper into me. “We can argue about it the whole way down if you want, but I’m not putting you down.”
I sighed. “Jacob.”
“Not letting go.” He glanced at me like he was challenging me to keep pushing him. “But please feel free to keep voicing your protests. You know I like it when you get all bossy on me.”
I fought my smile. “I have a serious head wound and you’re making jokes?”
He kept his eyes on the trail, but I didn’t miss the amusement that washed into them. “Oh, yeah, sure. Now that I’m making jokes, it’s a serious head wound. Back there when you were making your plea to walk down on your own, it was a microscopic scratch.”
I shook my head, giving a loud enough sigh that he knew I wasn’t happy about our present situation, but I was resigned to it. He just grinned at me, like we were playing one of the games we used to play as kids.
We didn’t say anything else the rest of the trek down. I hadn’t realized how far we’d made it or how long we’d been out, but when the parking lot came into view, the cab was just pulling back in.
“Thank god,” Jacob breathed when he saw it.
“Not excited about the idea of schlepping me all the way back to the hotel?” I asked, checking his face for signs of strain. There were none.
“If it meant getting to hold on to you, I’d carry you through the rest of our lives.” As soon as he looked down at me, he glanced away. “But I’d rather get you into a vehicle that can travel thirty miles per hour, or forty-five if I promise a really great tip.”
The cab driver saw us coming and already had the back door open when we emerged from the trailhead. When he noticed my head, his eyes went round.
“Hospital?” he guessed, already rushing around to the driver seat.
From the way the guy was moving, I guessed it looked like my skull had been split open.
Jacob bit his cheek, waiting for me to answer as he set me down and guided me into the backseat.
“Back to the hotel please,” I told the driver.
Jacob didn’t say anything; he just pulled his phone out as he slid into the seat beside me. “Give him a call so he’s waiting for us when we get there.” His eyes stayed forward as I took the phone, punching in Matt’s number.
It rang.
It kept ringing.
Then it went to voicemail.
“He didn’t answer. I’ll leave a message,” I whispered, but Jacob slid the phone from my hand.
“Call him on yours.”
“But I just tried. He’s not answering.”
He shifted in his seat as he handed me my daypack. “But he’ll answer yours.”
Pulling my phone out of the bag, I gave him a doubtful look as I hit the two button Matt’s number was saved under.
“My number still in the number one spot?” Jacob was peering at my phone.
“Of course it is,” I said as I lifted the phone to my ear.
“Matt’s number two?”
I shrugged, wondering why I needed to answer that when he’d just watched me hit two.
“Does that order still extend beyond your speed-dial line-up?” he asked, lifting his head so it was aligned with mine.
I was saved having to answer that loaded question when the phone started to ring. It didn’t have a chance to ring twice before the other end clicked.
“Cora?”
I didn’t know why, but hearing Matt’s voice made me kind of sink into the seat. It made me feel like no matter what was going on, everything was going to be all right in the end. Actually, he’d always made me feel that way. From the first week I’d moved into their house and accidentally broken a vase and he’d helped me clean it up, telling me it would be okay, to right now, years later, when I’d just smashed my head—and possibly my heart—and was calling him for help. Later, I’d found out he’d taken the blame for breaking the vase and been grounded for a week. I’d begged him to tell the truth, but he’d stood firm. So I’d sneaked him dinner every night that week, since grounding in the Adams’ house meant going to bed without dinner.
“Cora?” This time his voice was strained.
Beside me, Jacob nudged me, his gaze aimed out the front window.
“Matt, I fell. I think I need stitches—”
“What? Wait. Where are you?” In the background, I heard noise, like he was rushing around.
“I was hiking. I only need a few stitches, I think, and didn’t want to go to the hospital if you wouldn’t mind—”
“Of course I don’t mind. Where are you? I’ll meet you there.” More rustling around, followed by what sounded like a door slamming.
“We’re on our way back to the hotel. Could you meet us back at my hotel room?”
“You’re with Jacob?” It went quiet in the background, then Matt’s voice changed. “He was with you when you were hiking? When you fell?”
My eyes shifted toward Jacob. I wasn’t sure if he could hear what Matt was saying,
A few beats of silence. “Cora . . .” He exhaled. “Did he—”
“Matt, please. Just meet us back at the hotel. We’ll probably be there in another ten minutes.”
On the other end, he was silent. I knew Matt so well I knew exactly what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time to try to convince him I’d fallen all on my own.
“I’ll be there,” he said at last, but the line didn’t go dead.
It never did when we were on the phone together—he always waited for me to cut the connection. I wasn’t sure why, but I’d tested it out a few years ago. I’d called to check on him when he first started working at the hospital he was at now. He was working all of the time, sleeping more often at the hospital than at his condo, and I’d been worried about him overdoing it. I caught him one night just as he was getting off a shift and crawling into his bed at home. After chatting for a few minutes, we said good-bye, then I waited. The line didn’t go dead, just like it didn’t now.
I’d watched the clock on my stove for two minutes, and just when I was sure he’d fallen asleep with the phone still tucked to his ear, I said, “Good night, Matt.” His response came right after. “Night, Cora.” I hung up after that, guessing he’d never be the first.
This time was the same.
After stuffing my phone into my pocket, I chanced a look at Jacob. He was silent beside me, unmoving.
“Hey, I’m okay.” I moved the shirtsleeve away from my temple so he could see the bleeding was slowing. “A few stitches and a shower and I’ll be good as new.”
“No.” He had to work his jaw loose. “This is my fault.”
I sat forward in my seat, trying to get him to look at me. He wouldn’t. “I tripped on my own merit. What do you think is your fault?”
His head turned away from mine. “Everything.”
After that, the rest of the ride back was quiet. My head wasn’t bleeding nearly as much, but it was throbbing. I wanted to grab the bottle of pain reliever I kept in my backpack for exactly this kind of thing, but the mood in the cab was so somber, I was afraid to move.