Page 45 of Buried in the Woods Below

She drops her playful expression. “Don’t say that. We will never be better off without you. How about this? Stay for two more days. You can take the girls to the local fair while I work. You’ll see; with my mom gone, it’s a much more relaxing time.”

I cast my eyes skyward. I could never resist her.

“My dad’s cooking his famous burgers.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst. Fine. Two more days. But after that, I’m not making any promises.”

She pumps her fists in the air. “Yaaass. Fantastic. That’s my girl. When does your boy get here?”

“Carlos? Um? I told him not to come.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I just figured with everything being up in the air, it wasn’t the best idea. And…”

“And you’re a chicken who’s afraid to have a hot bartender come to the house?”

“Yes, I’m a huge chicken.”

“All right. I think you’re making a big mistake, but at least this will give me more time to hang out with you, and you’ll have more time to stare at my dad.” She winks and laughs.

“Oh, that’s how it is, is it?” I say and splash Olivia with water. She screams, and we both laugh till our guts hurt.

The next five minutes are more of the same. We rip on each other and laugh. I occasionally dip my oar into the water to keep us advancing. Eventually, the laughter dies down, and we both settle into silence, heads back, drinking in the rising sunshine.

As we float around to the west side of Crown Point, a house catches my eye—a sleek, modern place with massive windows cutting through the landscape. A couple sits on their deck sipping coffee, both in crisp workout outfits, watching the world go by.

As our canoe drifts past, I notice a familiar face.

And then my stomach hollows.

It’s Vivek. He reclines in a slate lounge chair, dressed head to toe in white, his gelled black hair parted with surgical precision; a devil masquerading as an angel. His lithe legs are crossed with theatrical ease, one long finger curling around a steaming mug of coffee, the picture of smug serenity. Other hand clutching his wife’s. The consummate husband.

The bubble of peace Olivia and I have created on our little canoe ride pops.

“Motherfucker,” I say under my breath.

“What?” asks Olivia, frowning, her eyes following mine.

My gaze stays locked on him. My nails dig into the paddle. The lake water stills. “That’s Vivek, the Winthrop partner I told you about.”

Her head whips toward the deck. “Are you serious?”

I nod, my pulse simmering. The canoe drifts toward the property as though a magnetic force is pulling it toward him. My thoughts jump to that day. The conference room. The bite of his breath. The wedding ring on his finger. Losing control.

Suddenly the lake feels too small, too exposed.

Vivek takes a sip of coffee and turns his head like a cobra. And then he sees me. A slow smile spreads across his face, as if he’s been expecting me all along.

Chapter 22

Seeing Vivek again—smugly sipping his coffee without a care in the world, his wife by his side—sends me spiraling. I drive my paddle into the still water, pointing the canoe toward shore, my muscles firing with every stroke. He’s the reason I’m here. Stuck on this island when I should be working. Helping my clients, solving problems, giving back. He’s taken my life. My identity. The paddle cuts through the water. I’d like to do the same to Vivek’s throat.

His house looms behind him, a wall of windows, sleek, cold, and heartless. A perfect reflection of the man.

He watches my approach and stiffens in his chair, his posture shifting from relaxed to alert. He mutters something to his wife and hands her a coffee cup. They exchange kisses on the cheek, and she dutifully heads inside. He doesn’t want her anywhere near me.

As we float toward shore, Olivia leans forward in her seat, staring at him like she’s the one who’s been wronged. “I’m gonna have a word with this dude.”