In This Life (21 page)

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I honestly didn’t know.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” She sat down beside me and pulled me into a tender hug that only a best friend could give. I rested my chin on her shoulder and stared out into space, feeling cut off from the world and from my feelings as well. Nothing seemed to get through. Not her soft sounds of encouragement or the gentle way she stroked my hair. Not even her whispers that promised she’d be there to help me get through.

Only when I was ready did I pull back so I could focus on Lori instead of my own misery.

“You want to talk about it?” she asked, pushing my hair behind an ear.

I shook my head and the hair fell forward.

Lori pulled back a little further to get a better look at me. “Why not? I can be a pretty good therapist, too, you know. Raising three boys definitely gives you insight.”

She offered me a smile but I didn’t smile back.

“Okay, then. Let’s forget about that and move on to something else.” Lori stood up, got the remote, turned on the television, and found a comedy. “I know you’re going to remind me that this is the worst thing I could offer you, but as your best friend I say it might be one of the best.” She dug a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses from her handbag. “You up for a little numbing instead?”

I gave her a weary smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“This is all kinds of wrong,” I said.

“Please don’t go all therapist on me,” she said, opening the bottle and pouring two shots. “I don’t need to be reminded of how bad it is for a depressed person to drink.”

“Actually, I was remembering the last time we numbed. You had a big fight with Nat, came over, drank too much, and ended up shoving David out of my bed so you could sleep here with me. And you didn’t give it back to him until three days later.”

Lori settled in next to me and handed me a glass. “Just so you know, I intend to do that again.”

“Only this time, David’s already gone.”

Lori’s shoulders and expression fell. “I wish there was something I could do to change what happened.”

I shrugged. “I know.”

“The thing is, I don’t really know what happened.”

I realized there was no point in holding back from my best friend, and I told her everything that I should have told her from the beginning.

Lori listened, soaking it all in and never once judging my memories, how I felt about Galen, or what I’d done to David. When I finished, she lifted her glass to mine while I worked hard to tough it out and not cry.

“To better times,” she toasted.

Amen to that
, I thought as I tossed back the tequila, and I rested my head on Lori’s shoulder and cried anyway.

I woke up, unsure of my surroundings until my bedroom, lit by bright morning sun, came into view. My head throbbed, my throat was dry and my tongue felt three times too big for my mouth. I felt edgy and impatient and, in some strange way, trapped.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to put a finger on what unsettled me so much. Part of it had to do with Galen, but the bigger part had to do with David. It wasn’t because he’d left, and it wasn’t because I wasn’t sure when, or if, he would return. It was something else.

It was something darker and more uncertain, and it had to do with Bakari’s sword.

I sat up and studied David’s empty side of the bed, letting my thoughts and emotions run without restraint. All the hopes, fears, and joys. All the betrayals, promises, and sadness. As they raced through me, reminding me of all I had done right and all I had done wrong in this life and the one before, the true source of what troubled me emerged. I’d been denying it even when David stood at his most adamant, trying to make me see what he saw too well. I had pushed Bakari away because of Kemnebi, and I had pushed David away because of Galen now. But that in itself wasn’t the issue. The issue was that I carried unresolved, maybe even long-buried, feelings for Galen.

And David saw them before I did.

I pulled my legs up and rested my chin on my knees. While Galen could help me find closure, I also understood that pursuing that closure could very well come at a price with the man I loved, and denied, through two lifetimes.

Sweeping a hand over David’s side of the bed, I felt the cool, soft sheets, drew in the subtle, musky scent of him, and wondered what lay ahead for the both of us. I also wondered if I could change that course of fate with the second chance I’d been given now.

The sound of Lori and Nat’s voices from the foyer downstairs broke into my thoughts. They spoke for a while, their tones muffled and subdued, until the front door opened and closed. Then, nothing.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me I should eat, and when I pushed out of bed and stood up, the image of Bakari drawing his sword returned. Then the memory dissolved, but the restless, disturbing feeling remained. It was the same feeling I’d had when I had been brought to the hospital after passing out at Nirvana’s bar.

It felt like death.

I shuddered through a chill and now, more than ever, wished that David were here. I pulled his pillow to my chest and as I rested my head on the delicate, Egyptian cotton, another memory moved in.

I was with my servant, Kesi. She was braiding the last few gold tubes into my wig, her head down, her mouth set into an angry line.

“You have not spoken all morning,” I told her. “What is on your mind?”

She moved behind me and, while I held a mirror, tugged the wig onto my head and into place. Hard.

“Does it meet with your pleasure?” she asked in a sharp tone.

I put down the mirror and turned on my stool to face her. “You are angry with me. Why?”

Kesi considered the jar of kohl on a nearby ebony table, looking like she might choose to avoid answering the question and finish my eyes instead, but then her features hardened with bitterness. “You have told Pharaoh about Haji and me.”

She said it as if it was a fact. Even though Kesi and I never spoke of that day when I saw her and Haji together in the chamber where I was tutored, I kept their affair to myself. I told no one, not even Bakari.

“I have kept your secret for a long time, Kesi. What makes you think I have told my brother about it?”

“Haji has been sent to the harem in Thebes to tutor the children there.”

“When did this happen?”

“You already know when. Do not pretend you do not know anything about this decision.”

I was not in the mood to solve riddles, so I stood and closed the space between us. Kesi held her place; chin up, eyes tracking mine.

“We have known one another for many years and you have been my most faithful servant, Kesi, and I would never consider doing such a thing. I have not played any part in what Pharaoh has decided.”

Her cheeks burned red with anger and the words rushed forward. “Haji was everything to me, and you had him taken away. It is your fault I will never see him again.”

“Did you ever consider that Haji was to be moved to Thebes anyway, because his work as my tutor is complete?”

Kesi lowered her eyes, as if she had not considered the idea until now.

“And, if Pharaoh truly knew about your affair, Kesi, he would have come after you as well. You know that adultery is forbidden. Better to divorce and become involved with another woman or man after, than to do so while living with your husband or wife in the same house.”

Kesi glanced away and I wondered if she finally understood the truth in my words. I had done nothing to betray her, and never would.

Then she cocked her head and gave me a sly smile that sent a shiver through my body. “I know that Kemnebi stayed in your chamber last night, Shemei, which not only confirms that you are a liar but a hypocrite and a royal whore as well.”

I raised my hand, prepared to slap her, but what she said next turned my blood cold.

“General Bakari is alive and back with Pharaoh now at the Audience Chamber, Shemei. And, as surely as I am standing here, has just received word of your own indiscretion against him. You can thank me for that. Consider it payment for having Haji taken away from me.”

I raced out of my chamber and fled to the Audience Chamber, not caring that people were staring at my inappropriate behavior. Once I ascended the granite steps, I stopped to catch my breath and stepped inside. My brother, Pharaoh, was sitting on his throne, a gold kilt on his hips, Crook and Flail in hand, the Double Crown on his head. With the exception of two guards, he was alone.

When he saw me, he motioned for me to come forward and my sandals echoed as I crossed the tiled floor, stepping over images of slain enemies and citizens of other nations subjecting themselves to the King of Egypt. As I approached the throne, another man stepped into view.

Bakari.

I wavered midstride, overwhelmed by his stature and captivated by his striking military regalia and mass. His shoulders had broadened further, his muscles developed with even more definition, and his skin, now shades darker than before, carried a number of fresh scars that still needed time to heal. His hand rested on his gold sword at his hip. His face had hardened, an aftereffect of war I saw on many generals before him, but his eyes still glistened bright green.

His eyes held mine, and I allowed myself to be drawn forward as if under a spell I could not and would not break. I stopped just short of the polished, granite steps leading to the throne, my gaze still one with Bakari. I could find no words to express what I felt but allowed myself precious moments to enjoy the surge of happiness I felt in seeing him again, whole and alive and well. I reached out, wanting to touch him, to feel him, but he tensed and I realized my affection was no longer welcome.

Defeated and deflated, I pulled back and uttered the one thing he probably would never believe but that had to be spoken anyway.

“I am so very sorry.”

My brother banged his Crook. “You have brought grief and embarrassment to this family and disappointment to my reign, Shemei,” he said. “Although you and General Bakari had no formal marriage contract drawn yet, your sacred bond still existed before the eyes of the gods and of Pharaoh. A bond you plainly and deliberately chose to break. What have you to say?”

Nothing seemed appropriate or sufficient. Still, I could not dismiss this moment and decided to speak the truth because, in the end, it seemed all that mattered.

“My entire life has been shared with Bakari. He is all I have known and all I have ever wanted to know. It was never my intention to hurt anyone. I merely wanted solace because I believed Bakari was dead.”

“And you never thought to ask someone if this was true? More so, you never considered how your actions would affect me?”

“No.”

My brother studied me in calculating silence. “Why not?”

“I did not think it important because Bakari was my loss, not yours,” I said, and I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them.

“General Bakari was in your life because of
me
, Shemei! Do not forget that!” My brother drew in a sharp breath, lifted his chin and considered me with blatant disapproval. After a few moments, he turned and said, “General Bakari?”

Bakari stepped forward. “Your Majesty?”

“I am inclined to dismiss my decision in favor of yours. What have you to say?”

Bakari did not look at me, though he took the time to weigh his thoughts. In those waiting breaths, I recalled the days when Bakari and I grew up, playing in the fields and facing punishment for finding trouble, sharing wine and watching the gods light the night sky while we discovered each other in heart and body. They were times I would not trade for anything or anyone but that I hoped Bakari would consider as he made his decision for our future. I vowed that if he found it in his heart to forgive me, I would never betray or disappoint him again. We shared something unique and what I believed to be a once in a lifetime, and I wanted to live the rest of my lifetime with his.

He squared his shoulders. “I have nothing to say, Your Majesty.” He took one step back into place, in deference to his Pharaoh.

His decision came as an unexpected blow and I closed my eyes and choked back a sob. I felt withered and empty, like the dried out, lifeless trees that dotted the edges of the desert. With those few words, Bakari erased my past along with my future, though if I admitted the truth, he did it only because I erased it first.

Very well,” my brother said over an exhalation. “Shemei, it is my decision that you will face execution as Re descends tonight. General Bakari?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I order that Shemei will die by your hand and sword.”

Pharaoh banged his Crook on his throne and called for the guards. Without any word or even a glance my way, they escorted me from the Audience Chamber. I followed them with blind trust because I did not know in which direction I walked. My eyes remained fixed on Bakari until the Chamber doors closed after me, cutting my life from his.

The memory shut down and I launched from the bed as realization kicked in.

“Oh my God,” I said, grabbing a fresh tee and shorts from the dresser. “It’s happening all over again.”

I hadn’t seen it until now. I had betrayed Bakari and lost him when he discovered my duplicity, and I now faced losing David, too, under very similar circumstances. Only this time,
this time
, I could change the course of fate before it was too late. David may have been Bakari back then but he wasn’t Bakari now, and that was the key difference. We may have shared a past life and brought lessons to learn into this one, but we were also different people now, facing different choices.

And I intended to use those new choices to make things right.

I freshened up, jumped into my clothes, tugged on a pair of Keds and flew down the stairs to the kitchen. Nat was slouched in David’s chair at the kitchen table, reading the news on David’s tablet, and drinking coffee from David’s mug.

“Where is David?” I asked.

Nat lowered the tablet and looked at me. “Good morning to you, too.”

“I need to talk to David. Where is he?”