DYLAN.
Joanne jumped on me at the main entrance to the amazement of servants surrounding us. One month in Egypt had rounded her curves and polished her fingernails, a red stud glittered on her bellybutton piercing, the ankh bracelets on her wrists tinkled as we disengaged. She animatedly gabbled about how beautiful Egypt was, the belly dancing in the amphitheatre the day before.
"You should've seen the sights. They were so amazing! I worshipped at Al-Azhar Mosque on Fridays. I had to wear a hijab with frills and coloured beads, and use a tasbih, but it was worth it. Then our tour guide led us around the pyramids of Giza, narrated everything about those fourth dynasty funeral temples. Can you believe they were built as far back as 2490 B.C.?"
"That's a good thing, I guess."
"And the museum stunned the hell out of my senses. I've been yearning to visit there since I watched The Mummy __ that movie spanning the horror tale of an Egyptian queen __ I think she's a psychopath though but__ I'm glad I finally went there. It was amazing. It was so amazing. Your mom said it would be perfect for our honeymoon. I was like, aw."
"You sure look happy," I chastely kissed her cheek, my chest swelled perilously full; listening to her tinted cute laughter, I couldn't hold back from kissing her finger tips, assessing the black serpentine henna inked on the back of her palms.
"I am happy, love. Especially now that our wedding date is fixed. My bad, did I tell you that I've hired Athena, my friend back in our crazy college days? She's designing all our dresses. Mine, the bridesmaids', your mom's."
The eventuality dawned. I stopped in my tracks, stupefied, painfully accepting the fact that our wedding, my wedding, was bound to happen.
Soon.
I regretted getting cozy with Kiera last night... Not that I could undo it by merely wishing and making out with my girlfriend while Kiera was twenty metres away, and definitely within hearing distance. Joanne's voice was always loud enough to wake the dead.
"I thought we agreed to slow down a bit. This is moving too fast. On The Run has been officially released and I'm writing the sequel that I must submit to my agent before fall. I don't have time for a wedding right now, Joanne."
"You're saying that you'll pass up the chance to marry the woman you've loved since high school because you're making money?"
Since high school, yeah. Since Kiera waded into my life, not exactly sure.
"I'm not breaking our engagement, okay? I really need more time to wrap my head around this."
"But the date," she touched my forearm, "What should we do with the invitation cards we've printed out?"
"We? What do you mean we? This is all you. You went behind my back, connived with my mom to choose a wedding date without remembering to tell me. We FaceTimed every night, Miss Joanne Egypt Whitney!"
"About to become Sanders. I thought you wouldn't want to talk about it. You seemed distracted most times, far away. I couldn't tell if you were sincerely fagged out or hated watching me have all the fun while you were detained at work."
Oh bother. Was I that into Kiera? Joanne hardly caught drifts unless they yelled in her face.
"I wished we could fast forward the wedding because I might've been worried that you didn't love me anymore," she toyed with one bracelet, removed it, wore it on my wrist which she retained wanly. "I love you."
What had I done? The despair was too much, too real.
"You'll marry me, won't you? You won't leave me alone?"
I was hanging in the balance between terrific doubt and euphoric bliss. I knew I held Joanne's heart as a water stream in my hands, I would direct it wherever I willed.
"You have my word, JoJo."
"I'm no longer sixteen," she laughed, standing on her toes to peck my nose, "You can find another nickname for me soon."
"I know you love it when I call you that. Aw, look at her. She's blushing," I bantered.
"I bought a lot of presents for you."
"Souvenirs."
"Whatever. You're the writer. There's something else for you," she squeezed my hand once as we detoured to an empty passageway reserved for my private meditations.
She wasted no time in launching her mouth on mine, kissing the living hell out of me. I was thinking and missing how Kiera kissed, playful and endearing, not a physical act but heavier on the emotional level. Joanne was a nice kisser. If you desired to ground yourself with someone for life, the person had to be better than nice. She tugged on my shirt sleeve. I took the lead from her, nipping at her lips exactly how I knew she liked.
Old and boring.
Oh God, I deserved to be hanged on the gallows. Heartbreakers like me should be sentenced to 150 years imprisonment or the gas chambers.
Soon she was lewdly moaning. Imagining it was Kiera in her place, a wonderful buzzing started from my throat and spread to my groin. She grinded her stomach on my bulging erection, mistaking herself for the reason behind my arousal. Ignorance was bliss after all.
"Hey," I said when I'd endured enough. "You're up for a night out?"
"Just me and you? No Ra, no Iris?"
"Yeah JoJo. Lemme go change."
"Can I come up with you?"
Couldn't a man have a moment of peace when his fiancee was around? I stifled my complaints. Mom expected me to marry this lady. She strongly loved Joanne, treated her as the daughter she never had. I couldn't let her down, even if I had to trade my happiness for a dull loveless marriage. I tried not to stare at Kiera's door. The preceding night had brusquely severed whatever rocky ties we had.
Yeah, that's me.
The heartbreaker.
**
Kiera dashed out of my room.
"What were you doing there?" I barked, shocked senseless. "I banished you yesterday."
"Oh, it's the charity girl. Hey homeless," Joanne smiled. Or frowned. It didn't matter. Kiera was getting on my nerves.
"I came to return your spare key," she said, "but I think I forgot it in the pantry."
"Ha, I know you're lying. My boyfriend would never let you smell his room."
Crap. The things I would love to say:
"Never mind, I was kidding."
"Last night was the best night of my life."
"I can't wait to have you in my bed tonight."
"Forget Joanne, she has nothing on you."
"Get. Out." I said instead. All because of Joanne. Kiera slinked into the shadows, without another word to either me or Joanne.
"Go cry, loser." Joanne hollered.
**
We went to a Little Mix live concert, me driving, Joanne holding my hand on the console. Their performance was a blast as they sang and danced beautifully. Part of the audience were wowed, others were busy fainting. I looked out for Joanne in case she fainted too, but my girl swerved her lithe body to the beats, inviting me to dance with her.
How could I say no?
Our date was rounded off with a lovely dinner and a make out session in my car. I bade her goodnight.
Now to Kiera. Her door was unlocked, as usual.
As unusual, her bed was neat, as if it hadn't been slept in. Every other detail was in place. I roused the servants. They combed the length and width of the mansion for her, the cheap gossip amongst them annoyed me. Lilah disclosed that Kiera had not come down for dinner, nor help the maids with cooking, as she was wont to do.
Kiera was gone.