I imagine bumping Jesika into the river by mistake and then throwing her one of the life rings to save her. The possible shift of power in our dynamic is potent enough to taste—I’ve spent these last weeks feeling not good enough to even be in her company, and now here we are, the possibility of overturning her entire existence within my control.
Suddenly, the promise of tomorrow in Tahoe dissolves.
All I can think about is Jesika’s lifeless body floating in the shamrock-green Chicago River.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Do you want to grab something to eat? I swear I’m always starving these days.”
I don’t respond. I’m lost in my own world, conscious that she’s spoken but unable to formulate a single word in reply.
“Maya?” A look of concern crosses Jesika’s face. “Are you okay?”
I still can’t respond. I’m fighting the urge to shove her as hard as I can and then run to the nearest cab and tell them to take me to the airport, the few clothing items left behind in my hotel be damned.
“Maya?”
I don’t recognize her calling me because it’s not my name. I’d answer to Mia before I’d ever answer to what she’s calling me right now. My vision tunnels, and all I can focus on are the pointy ends of her side ponytail. I hate every perfect part of her.
“You don’t even know what you did,” I mumble.
“What?” Jesika’s face is scrunched in confusion.
“You don’t want to be friends with me. Trust me.” I mimic the line from the thriller movie we watched. “We couldneverbefriends,” I say, then before thinking twice, I do the thing that every neuron in my brain has been begging me to do. I grasp her side pony with all of my might and yank her backward so she’s forced to lean over the stone wall that separates the Riverwalk from the churning green water.
“Help!” she calls out, fighting me to let go of her. “Stop it!”
I yank harder, practically forcing the upper part of her torso over the carved stone. Just as I’m about to shove her with my other hand, she wrenches free of me and takes off down the Riverwalk. She’s running as fast as she can, but her heeled boots are slowing her down. Designer fashion will be her downfall. It’s fitting that vanity will be the end of her.
One heel catches on the lip of a heaved brick, and she trips. Her arms flail, and her designer bag goes flying as she tumbles down the steps. There’s a break in the wall where emergency personnel can rescue people who have fallen into the river, and Jesika is dangling lifelessly at the edge, the top half of her torso hanging over the safety ladder. She’s not moving. She’s not even moaning.
Wide-eyed, I stumble down the steps after her and notice drops and smears of fresh, bright-red blood on the pavement. Jesika’s blood. My heart hammers as I near her form. She looks like she’s only sleeping but in the most awkward position, one shoulder crushed against the edge of the stone wall and the chugging and gurgling green river swirling just beyond her head.
“Jesika?” I whisper. Stepping closer, I hang over the edge of the half-wall to see if I can get at the right angle to see her face. I need to see her eyes. Is she breathing? I can’t tell anything from here. “Jesika?”
She doesn’t stir, and I can’t focus my eyes long enough to tell if her chest is moving or if she’s breathing.
“Jesika!” I bark, disbelieving what’s happening before me. IfI lean just far enough, I can catch sight of the tips of her blond ponytail dragging in the vivid green river water. Shades of pink drip down the ends, and I realize then it’s her blood. She must have hit her head on the fall down the steps.
I gulp, moving back to her body and wondering if I should perform CPR or call the police or Dean or search for her phone or…
“Jes—” I gently move her shoulder as if she is only just asleep. Only, the meager effort I’ve used to nudge her is just enough to send her body tumbling into the river. “Jesika!”
Tears flood my eyes as I realize what I’ve done. That maybe I’ve even left my DNA on her body.
“Oh God.” I have to save her. I scramble to find the nearest orange life preserver. When I locate it a few steps away, I unwind it swiftly and then climb down the ladder as quickly as I can. The river water laps the third rung of the ladder. I’m sure I’m strong enough to lift her out of the water and at least give her a fighting chance at life.
Oh God.The baby.
Dean’s baby.
Superhuman strength consumes me, and I drop into the freezing water. I loop the life preserver rope around her still-floating form and then press our bodies together and wrap the remainder of the rope around my own waist. I try to heave the upper part of her body against my shoulder and then press her body between myself and the ladder. I struggle to hold on to the slippery iron. A thin layer of green algae coats the submerged rungs, and with every step, I fight not to slip.
Struggling to take in full breaths under the weight of Jesika’s body, I move slowly but test my grip with every step. I’m dripping and water runs in my eyes, but I push on, finally reaching the topmost rung. Her body is heavy and slick as I try and fail to push her torso back onto solid ground. I pause, tryingto figure the right angle to do this before I realize I jumped right into this river to save her life without even thinking of my phone. Even if I manage to get her out of the water, I won’t be able to call first responders. And because the businesses here cater to the lunch crowd, most are closed at this time of evening.
Tears sting my eyes as I almost lose my grip and cause both of us to fall back into the river. We’re connected, she and I. At least for now. Her life and Dean’s unborn baby’s life are in my hands.
I sob, gathering all my strength and shoving us up one more rung so we’re both almost fully out of the water. I heave once more and collapse on top of Jesika’s body on the dry pavement and then work to untangle us from the life preserver. When I’m free, I stand, confirming that my phone and wallet are still in my zippered jacket pocket—they are.
