Destiny by chance: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel (11 page)

Rita showed up late to pick up her friend, but the party didn’t start until eight, and downtown was only fifteen minutes away. It was a party for one of the teachers from their English department who had worked at the school for fifteen years—a simple going away party with friends from school and their significant others, most of whom she knew.  They had planned it weeks ago. Rita and other teachers had invited Destiny multiple times, but she had been adamant that she wasn’t ready.  As usual, Rita didn’t give up, and her phone call was her one last attempt to get her reclusive friend out of the house.  After the night before, Destiny felt more confident that she was ready to get out again. 

There were delicious passed appetizers and a cash bar before dinner.  Winston was the last one to arrive, and he came stag, only to further the rumors that surrounded his personal life.  Once he saw Destiny, he stayed glued to her side most of the evening, even sitting by her at dinner.

“Let me, at least, get you ladies a glass of wine,” he offered Rita and Destiny as they all sat down together for their meal.

“Good.  I’m tired of drinking alone,” Rita insisted, holding up her empty glass.

“Just a half a glass.”  Destiny smiled, as Winston jumped up, taking Rita’s glass.  She chuckled at his eagerness to please.

“He’s set his sights on you,” Rita said flatly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Destiny scoffed.  “Besides, he’s buying you one, also.”

“Yeah, but I’m married.”

“Maybe he likes married women.”

Rita unfolded her napkin and put it in her lap.  “No, I think he prefers them wounded and vulnerable,” she added, cutting her eyes at her friend as Winston returned from the bar.

Destiny exhaled dramatically and shook her head.  A few moments later, an arm reached around her with a full glass of wine and she sighed.  “That’s more than half a glass.”

“What can I say?  They are generous with their portions.”  Winston smiled, then handed Rita her full glass as well.  “Don’t complain,” he added.  “Usually, people think that they get ripped off by the bartenders.  For the first time in a long time, I just got my money’s worth.”  He proposed a toast.  “To friends,” he said, waiting for them to raise their drinks in kind.

They tapped glasses.  Rita sniffed her bouquet and sipped some of her wine.

Destiny closed her eyes and sniffed her drink, rolling the dark liquid around in the glass before taking a very slight sip.  It was bitter, almost salty and she made a face.

“Too tart?” he asked.

“A little.”

“You’re just not used to it.” Winston downed half of his wine in a few gulps.  His eyes stayed on her as she tentatively sipped a little more.

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly.

Uniformed waiters served salads first, and dinner twenty minutes later.  Everyone except Destiny was a little tipsy within the hour.

Winston’s hand rested on Destiny’s chair or close to her hand on the table through most of dinner and dessert.  Every so often he would lightly touch it when he spoke, which was most of the time.  As talkative as he was before the wine, he was more so after a second glass; going on and on about his prowess in the college football ranks.  Winston seemed a little surprised and maybe more hurt when Destiny wasn’t aware of his accomplishments.  So he spent the better part of twenty minutes filling her in on what the rest of the world already knew and what she, somehow, had missed. 

Rita excused herself throughout dinner, disappearing for stretches of time. At first, Destiny was concerned her friend was over-indulging until she realized Rita was running to the bathroom.  Rita confided that she didn’t feel well.  It could have been the mushroom sauce, or maybe the wine; she said, before rushing back to the bathroom only minutes after returning.  Fifteen minutes later Rita walked up to them, pale as a ghost.

“We’re going to drive you home,” Winston and Destiny insisted. 

Rita waved them away as she sat down.  “I’ll be fine she said, before laying her head on the table.

Destiny and Winston retreated, separately, moments later returning, Winston with a ginger ale and Destiny with a cold, wet bar rag.  Rita finally agreed to allow Destiny to call her husband, and he arrived fifteen minutes later to take her home.

“Sorry, it must have been something I ate.” Rita was weak, hardly able to walk.  She held the wet rag to her mouth as Destiny and Winston helped her to the waiting car.

“God, I hope not!” Destiny exclaimed.

“We all had the same thing,” Winston concluded, eyebrows raised.

“I’ll check on you in the morning,” Destiny said as she closed the door and watched them drive away.

Destiny looked around and then motioned for a cab.

“Don’t even think about it,” Winston said.  “I’m driving you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she insisted as a cab pulled up beside them.

Winston looked hurt.  “Please, Destiny.  It’s the least I can do.  You’ve helped me out more times than I can count; it’s my turn to return the favor.”

Destiny sighed, then looked up into his eyes.

“I promise I’m okay to drive.  And I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he said holding up his hand.  “I promise.”

Destiny’s smile softened.  “Fine,” she conceded.

“Good.” Winston motioned to the cab that they’d changed their minds and led her by the elbow toward the parking garage where he’d parked. 

“Where do you live?”

“Just a few blocks from here.  I would have walked, but my late husband taught me years ago to be practical.”

“Practical is good,” he offered.  “You never talk about him.”

Destiny looked down as she walked.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, it’s okay,” she smiled.  “Most people don’t talk about him because they are afraid they’ll upset me.  And sometimes I think they are right.  Or at least, they used to be.”

“Is it easier now?”

“Maybe,” she offered.  “A little.”  She yawned.  “Sorry.  I’m not usually out this late.”

“It’s okay.  Me neither.”

“Oh? I thought you were the party animal.”

“Not in the least,” he chuckled.  “I’m usually home in bed by nine.”

“Yeah,” she smiled.  “Me, too.”

“I know.”

Destiny furrowed her brow.

“You are a teacher, right?  Don’t we all have a nine o’clock bedtime?”

Destiny smiled and yawned again.  They arrived at his sports car.  She stopped suddenly, eyeing it from hood to trunk.  “Is this…” she began.

“A Jaguar XE,” Winston smiled proudly.

“Definitely not a teacher car,” she remarked.

“Definitely not a teacher car,” he agreed.  “How do you think I can afford to work only as a substitute?  My family’s loaded.  I’m a trust fund baby,” he added.  “And not ashamed to admit it.”

Destiny shook her head.  Obviously not.  That explained the perfect teeth and expensive clothes.  And
definitely
explained the expensive car.  He opened her door, and she slid down low into the seat.  The soft leather cushioned her head and she smiled.  Nice.  She gave him her address, but when he didn’t key it into his GPS, she gave him easy-to-follow driving instructions.  Winston parked in her space in the parking garage of her building, insisting that he wasn’t going to allow her to walk to her door alone.  Destiny was too tired to argue.  So Winston walked her to her door, talking all the while about parent-teacher conferences.  When she fumbled for and then accidentally dropped her keys, he bent over and gallantly retrieved them, then unlocked her door. 

Winston opened the door for her, and before she was completely inside, followed her in.  Destiny turned, almost running into him.

“It’s late, Winston.” She rubbed her eyes, wondering if the wine was making her feel more tired than usual.

He walked right past her into her open living space.  “This is incredible.”  It was as if he didn’t hear her.  “I always wondered what these looked like inside.  Always thought it would be cool to have a loft.”  Winston dropped her keys on the kitchen counter before moving to and opening her refrigerator.

“Look, Winston…” she began, as she heard him open of one of her caffeine-free Diet Dr Peppers.

“You don’t have anything stronger?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“No,” she sighed, watching him fumble through her cabinets until he found two glasses.

Winston poured the bubbling liquid into both of the glasses, turning to face her, holding one of the glasses up to her.  When she didn’t immediately take it, he shook the glass.  “A toast,” he insisted.

Destiny rolled her neck to crack it, then took the glass he offered.  “A toast.  Then you have to go.”

“Fine.”  Winston raised his glass to hers.  “To the most kind-hearted teacher I’ve ever met.  And the most beautiful woman I know.”  He tapped her glass.

“Thank you.” Destiny grinned weakly before sipping her drink.

Winston watched her until she finished most of her glass.  Then he drank the rest of his soda, gasping as he set it down on the table.  “Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, looking around.  “Sorry, but it’s a long drive home.”

Destiny rubbed her eyes again and yawned before pointing down the hallway.  “On your right.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, before walking hurriedly down the hall.

Destiny finished her drink, placing both glasses into the sink.  She walked to the wall of windows overlooking the river and leaned forward against the glass.  She loved her city, especially at night.  The lights shimmered across the still, cold waters of Town Lake.  She closed her eyes.  Minutes later she heard the bathroom door open.  When Winston didn’t walk down the hall immediately, she walked toward her living space.

“Winston?”  Destiny ambled down the corridor and toward the bathroom.  Her feet felt heavy beneath her like she was dragging them behind her.  She glanced into the bathroom, but he wasn’t there.  “Winston?” she moved toward her bedroom, running into the door jamb.  When she stepped inside, he was sitting at the end of her bed.  “What are you doing in here?” she asked, her words slurring.  “This is my bedroom.”  She stumbled to her nightstand, falling against it.  “This is highly inappropriate,” she fumbled with the pronunciation.

“You okay?” he asked, standing and walking to her.

Destiny’s hand went to her head as she suddenly felt light-headed.  “You need to…” she began, then forgot what she was going to say.

“Destiny?” Winston smiled, his hand moving to her face.

She remembered falling against him, and then she remembered nothing more.

Destiny opened her eyes.  Her head pounded painfully.  Her body ached. She thought for a moment she was dreaming of the accident, again.  But she wasn’t.  Water began to run in the distance.  The room was dark except for a thin slice of light coming from somewhere.  Destiny tried to focus.  It was her bathroom.  Her eyes closed tightly, as she tried to remember what had happened.  There was a party and then Winston drove her home.  Winston was sitting on her bed, and then he was saying her name over and over. 
Oh God!  No!

Destiny tried moving, but her whole body felt like a cinder block.  Her eyes darted where she could see in the room, to the nightstand.  The black handbag was still there where she had dropped it.  How long ago was that?  She inched toward the nightstand.  It couldn’t be a foot away, but it might as well have been a mile.  Destiny grabbed the sheet, slowly pulling her naked body toward the edge of the bed.  Her fingers stretched, but she couldn’t reach it.  She pulled herself with every ounce of energy she could muster, and yet it didn’t seem enough.  Moving as slowly as a snail, she wriggled inch by inch across her disheveled bed.  The tips of her fingers touched the straps.  Destiny drew in a deep breath and made one last exhausting attempt to grasp it.  Her fingertips brushed the sequins. 

Suddenly the water stopped, and she froze.  She heard the shower door close.  Destiny wriggled just a little more, and her fingers grasped the strap and pulled it slowly from the night stand.  It fell from the table, but her fingers still gripped it tightly, pulling it slowly to the bed.  The water began running again.  Frantically her fingers pulled the bag onto the mattress.  Nothing seemed to work as she tried to open it with one hand, her fingers unable to master the simple task.  Gradually, her other hand responded and moved to the clutch, fumbling, opening it just enough to pull her phone from it.

Destiny wanted to cry; she wanted to scream.  She was terrified, but she had to remain calm.  The water in the bathroom stopped, and she let the purse slip from her fingers.  It slid between the bed and nightstand.  Maybe he wouldn’t notice.  Slowly, Destiny slid her phone under her pillow, under her head with both hands.  Her eyes closed as she tried to slow her breathing.  Though her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest.  The slice of light across the bed grew, and she heard Winston moving through the room.  Suddenly the bed moved.  A hand slid over her buttocks and her back.  And in one fluid motion around her rib cage, under her chest to her breast.  She hoped that he wouldn’t feel her accelerated heartbeat and breathing.  His hand roughly fondled her breast, then let it go and he slid from the bed.

There was jingling, grunting and banging as he moved around.  Destiny swallowed hard; her throat was raw. 
Please God, make him go away.  Make him leave,
her mind screamed out.  The bed moved again, and she felt his clad body pressed on top of hers.  He kissed her bare shoulder. 

“You were good, Babe.  Later.” And then he walked from the room.

Destiny heard him walking across the hardwood floors to her open living area.  His hard soled shoes clopped over the wood throughout the apartment. 
Make him go away.  Please make him go away. 
Her front door slammed, and suddenly her breathing quickened again.  Her hand moved to her mouth as she tried to calm herself while continuing to listen.  What if he was still here?  What if he was testing her to see if she was faking it?  A tear ran down her cheek.  There were no more sounds, just silence.

Destiny waited what seemed like an hour but was only minutes before taking her cell phone from under her pillow. Destiny started to sob softly into the pillow, trying not to be too loud.  Just in case.  Each number seemed blurred, as she closed her eyes again, trying to remember the placement of the numbers on her phone.  Shakily, she pressed
one.

“Lisa,” she gasped softly.  “Lisa?” Destiny sobbed, still afraid he was going to jump on her again.  “Can you come?  Can you get me?  Oh, God?  Please, come get me!”  Her cries became louder, desperate—no longer caring if he heard.  There was a live person on the other end of the phone; no matter what happened now, someone would find her.  “Please don’t hang up.”  Her throat burned as she pleaded.  “Don’t hang up,” she gasped, her voice trembling.  “Home,” she answered in a raspy voice.  “I think he’s gone,” Destiny whispered, “but don’t hang up.  Just in case.”  Her eyes felt heavy and closed again.  She nodded incoherently to her friend’s questions as her breathing slowed.

She felt a hand on her cheek, but she was no longer afraid.  Slowly she opened her eyes.  Phillip smiled his amazing smile, his hand brushing across her face. 
‘My love,’
he said.  Destiny smiled back. 
‘You know it’s going to be okay, right?’
he assured her. 

“It’s never going to be okay again,” she cried.

Phillip moved closer to her, his breath on her cheek. 
“Shhh… It’s going to be okay,”
he promised.

Destiny stopped crying but shook her head.

“Do you trust me?”

Destiny slowly nodded her head.  “Phillip, I’m so scared,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to be afraid ever again,”
his eyes promised, suddenly easing her fears. His face pressed to hers. 
“I promise.”

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes again.  “Okay,” Destiny whispered as she drifted off to sleep.