Just Another Anniversary Dinner

Just Another Anniversary Dinner

After finishing up the day’s work, I logged off and put my computer away. I was giddy with excitement. It was our five-year anniversary. I’d left work earlier than normal to get things set up. Walking over to my room, I smiled at the framed picture over the fireplace. It was taken exactly a year ago, right after Kieran had proposed to me on top of the Ferris Wheel. Just as I opened the door to my room, I heard some noise. I wasn’t sure if Kieran was home. He should be home earlier than normal, considering what day it was. Still, I stopped and listened to make sure no one broke in. The noise seemed to be coming from the room next to the garage. I inched closer to the door, feeling slightly guilty for doing so. This was one of the two rooms Kieran kept for himself and requested that I don’t enter. It might seem like a weird request, but I didn’t mind. It’s not like we had a shortage of rooms in this house. In fact, I had a room dedicated for when I work from home and one where I store the books and action figures I’ve collected over the years. I wouldn’t want Kieran going through those rooms either. 

Focus. Ayla.

Right. I was just going to check where the sound was coming from. “Nothing to feel guilty about,” I whispered to myself. 

When I got close enough, I heard Kieran, “You said it was urgent?” I sighed in relief, no one had broken in. Assuming he was talking to someone on the phone, I started to head back, but another voice coming from inside the room made me freeze in my tracks. He had someone over? I pressed my ear to the door and waited. 

“In light of new evidence, the police have reopened the case of the Zenik family murders,” a man spoke. The raspy voice was unfamiliar, but the Zenik family murders were not. I remembered their names being posted all over the news. Three brothers whose bodies were found by the police not too far from where I work. Why is this person bringing that up? I wasn’t told we would be having anyone over…

My thoughts were disrupted when the man continued speaking, “This place is not safe for us anymore, I will arr—” 

“No,” I heard Kieran say. “I am not going to run. Not anymore.” 

I had to pinch myself just to make sure I heard it right. A thousand questions flooded my mind. Run where? From whom? Not anymore? What does that even mean? 

“What do you mean?” the other voice asked. The man sounded angry. “If people suspect, you take care of Ayla and then we escape. That’s what we decided on.” Take care of me? The audacity! Why was Kieran not saying anything about it? “Unless…” the man continued, “You’ve taken your role as Kieran Fox too seriously. Serious enough to let yourself and me get arrested.”

My stomach dropped. No… It couldn’t be…

I didn’t have time to ponder what the other man meant. “Change of plans,” Kieran responded. Well, that is NOT reassuring. Not one bit!!

I heard all that I needed to hear. I hurriedly moved away from where they were and headed straight to my room closer to the back of the house. I had to do something. Fast. There was a possibility that Kieran and his guest could have heard me eavesdropping. I knew I had to act like nothing was wrong and play it by ear. I picked out some clothes and entered my bathroom. After a quick shower, I changed into a crimson dress and denim jacket. Not very practical, I thought. But ideal for a date night. 

Hopefully, Kieran would think that’s all it was. I planned my escape as I let my curls fall out of my towel. It was fairly straightforward: Pretend you never heard that. Get ready for date night as planned. Get the hell out through the back door when Kieran is busy sending off his “guest”.  That was, assuming the loose floorboards in the kitchen didn’t creak and rat me out. I was stupid enough to leave my phone and purse out there. It’s too close to the room they were in so I couldn't even retrieve it. 

While I untangled my curls, my mind drifted off to what I heard earlier. “Take care of Ayla,” the other voice had said. Kieran didn’t object to that statement. I certainly understood what “taking care of me” entailed. Fear and panic seized me. I didn’t understand what the exact circumstances were, but I knew enough and my gut tells me that I had to get out of here. Now. The thought of Kieran being a murderer was sickening. My thoughts were deterred by the crack of a door opening. Kieran was ushering his guest out of the room and towards the entrance. “I’ll keep in touch, try not to do anything stupid,” his guest whispered and stepped out the door. Kieran followed his guest and had left the front door slightly open. Now. I peeked out of the bathroom and purposefully headed towards the kitchen. That is where the back door was located. Act natural. You’re just getting a beer. No big deal. 

Hope blossomed in my chest as I caught a glimpse at the door. The two men’s voices seemed far off now. Maybe they won’t hear the floorboards creaking! I picked up the pace and reached the door without arousing any suspicion. Yes. Freedom! 

I stopped for a second and looked around for any signs of trouble. None. I let out a relieved sigh, and unlatched the lock. Just as I opened the door, a gloved hand slammed it shut, startling me. 

“Going somewhere, love?” Kieran whispered. 

Crap. 

“I-I’m just getting a beer.”

“From the garden? I thought we stored our beers in the fridge...” Kieran said. “Unless you plan to brew right from the garden,” he added with a forced laugh. His ability to make jokes, no matter how terrible they were, shattered what little self-control I had left, barely containing my tears. 

“Well, you’d know a lot about brewing things up, wouldn’t you?” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ayla, are you alright?” Kieran asked, stepping closer to me.

“I’m fine.” I calmly took a step back, trying not to appear too guarded. It was too risky to make a run for the door. I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable. I searched for something, anything to suggest this was all a misunderstanding. 

With each passing second, I grew restless. Was any of it true? What was I to him? 

Was I a prop to him? Only used to mask his true identity? To conceal the fact that he is a killer. A tool he can easily dump when he needs to run… How long has he been running? Who is he running from? I could not look at him anymore. I didn’t recognize the man before me and keeping my tears at bay grew more difficult by the second.

“Who are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m Kier—” he started to say. 

“I’ve known you for years, so I’m asking again. Who. Are. You.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Kieran exclaimed.

“How about the truth?! Just this once?!”

A beat. 

“I’m Rhys.”

“Rhys,” I repeated to myself. The name felt foreign, unfamiliar. Not Kieran, Rhys. Not a boyfriend, a stranger. It became hard to breathe. Tears streamed down my face as I stared directly at a killer. Panic, fear, confusion, anger all rushed through my brain at once, but one thing was clear as day. “Rhys,” I repeated. He looked at me. “I loved you.”

“Loved-?” he asked, his voice strained. When I didn’t respond, Rhys’s jaw tightened. “You heard us,” he said, more to himself than to me. “I am so—”

Before he could utter another word, I stepped forward and slapped him across the face.

“I’m sorry, Ayla.” Rhys said as he cupped his left cheek. I reminded myself of his horrible actions to ease any guilt I felt as I saw the slowly forming reddish handprint on his cheek. Don’t be weak, Ayla! Remember who he is. That’s right, remember who he is. A liar. A murderer. He’s not the Kieran you knew. Hell, he’s not even a “Kieran”.

Rhys stepped closer to me and placed a palm on my cheek. I resisted the urge to dodge his touch. His repulsive, heartbreakingly familiar touch. A couple of hours prior, I would have cherished the feeling of his palm on my cheek, embraced the love that I thought we had shared. Now, as I looked up at him, all I could think of was his lies.

“I know how you feel,” Rhys started, “all I ask is that you give me a chance to explain. Please.”

Give him a chance to explain?! I stepped away from his grip and glared at him. “Explain what, exactly? How you lured me in with your lies? How you relished the feeling of killing that poor family?” My voice cracked, but I pushed on. “Or how you plan to take care of me like your friend said? Explain what, Kier—Rhys?” 

Despite the situation, it was satisfying to see Rhys’s eyes widen with each sentence. He turned away from me and cleared his throat. I cast a look at the latch of the back door. Still locked, but Rhys wasn’t holding on to it anymore. The beginnings of an escape plan formed in my mind. Before I could indulge in it, Rhys faced me again and spoke, his voice thicker than I remember. 

“Let’s eat.”  

Seriously?

Sensing my frustration, he added, “Just one meal. Please let me explain myself Ayla.” 

I started to voice a protest, but then it hit me. My escape plan. Pretend you are listening to him. Look for distractions when you’re eating. When the right time arises, RUN! On second thought, that seemed like a feeble excuse of a plan, but it’s all I had at that point so I decided to go with it. Once I was out the door and in front of people, Rhys wouldn’t be able to hurt me. But I had to hurry, it was already late at night. Any later and there wouldn’t be a lot of people on the streets. The silence was interrupted only by an embarrassing growl from my stomach. 

“One meal,” I said, “After that, we are done. Got it?”

“Right. I will explain as we eat, if you still feel the way you do, I will leave” Rhys said. I did not respond. “So… spaghetti?” he added. I sheepishly nodded and walked over to the pantry to grab a box of Barilla spaghetti and canned tomatoes as Rhys gathered some garlic, onions, and peas. I felt my heart skip a beat and quicken when Rhys pulled out the knife from the drawer. “I’ll cut,” I said with a slight quiver in my voice. Rhys looked at me questioningly and then looked at the knife in his hand. With a sigh, he passed the knife to me, blade facing towards him. I hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the knife and began mincing garlic. Rhys had started shelling the peas. The methodical ease with which we worked reminded me of when we’d cook together after a long day at work, the kitchen filled with music and laughter. 

Compared to those instances, the silence that persisted at that moment was deafening. With each passing second, I grew restless and uncomfortable. I clenched my fist. How the hell did I get into this position? Listening to the man I loved, the man who blatantly lied to me, the man who might very well be a murderer justify his actions? Ugh, I should have just ignored the noise! Thinking back to how excited to spend the evening with him, I felt stupid. Pathetic. I couldn’t bring myself to just to ignore the last five years. The five years I thought were the happiest. The smiles we shared, the memories we created. All of it destroyed in the blink of an eye by none other than the man who stood in front of me, casually shelling peas. Shelling peas like he did not just admit to lying about his identity, not even denying the accusation of being a murderer. Does he not care? Was it all a lie? 

The “I love you’s”, kisses, and loving embraces…were they all fake? Did he not feel guilty for playing with my feelings like that? Was I so lovesick and naïve not suspect a thing? I clenched my jaw, focusing my gaze on the cutting board. On the knife.   

Overcome with a sudden surge of anger, I stopped cutting the garlic, feeling the weight of the knife in my hand. I will not be fooled. Not anymore. I have to put an end to this before it gets worse. I whirled and faced Rhys, eyes ablaze. He looked up from what he was doing and cast a confused glance in my direction. When I didn’t say anything, he stayed silent for a beat, and then asked, “Ayla, what’s up? Why did you stop?” 

“Change of plans,” I said, repeating what he had said earlier to his guest. 

Without a second thought, I raised my hand and flung the knife at him. 

Reflection:

In this version of my story, I added more pauses and breaks throughout the piece to pace it better. This is particularly evident in the scene where Ayla overhears Kieran and his guest’s conversation and tries to process it while planning an escape at the same time. I also prolonged the confrontation scene (“who are you…”) and the scene right before Ayla throws the knife at Rhys to create a sense of urgency and characterize Ayla more effectively. The confrontation scene incorporated third level dialogues which I thought further characterized Ayla and Kieran’s complicated relationship. To add some depth to their relationship, I added a scene about Kieran proposing to her on top of the Ferris wheel and Ayla smiling at the memory. The “books and action figures detail” in my first paragraph was intended to characterize Ayla and help the readers understand what her likes and dislikes were. add depth to their relationship & details about what was in Ayla’s room to characterize her. By explaining that she had to get out before people in the streets returned to their homes, I added some more urgency to Ayla’s situation and raised the stakes. The reason I did not cut the shower & dressing up scene from my final draft was because I wanted to slow the pacing of the story and offer some insight into Ayla’s state of mind. Meaning, Ayla was still trying to process what she overheard and try not to jump to conclusions but it was hard because Kieran (Rhys) did not interject when the other man asked him to “take care of her” and she is questioning everything. In my mind, she continued to shower and dress up for date night to try and stay in a state of denial, hoping that when she goes out of the room, she would be greeted with her Kieran, and not whoever he actually was. I was not sure how to articulate that effectively. I also did not go too much in detail about Rhys’s past because I thought that doing so would shift the focus from the complicated nature of their relationship to the mystery and/or plot of the story—which is not what I wanted to dwell on for the purposes of this assignment. My intention with the ending was to leave the story with a cliffhanger that would entice people to read the next part when I write it, because I want to make this a lengthier short story/ novella that provides a glimpse into Rhys’s past, Ayla’s future & consequences and how the Zeniks’ murder plays into this. In the last few paragraphs, I added some lines that exemplified Ayla’s internal conflict and frustration with being used as a pawn as well as her anger about being fooled by someone she loved. I thought that explaining how conflicted and angry she was would make the ending more believable or justifiable for Ayla’s character in the eyes of the readers.

P.S. In my reflection, when I mention “Kieran” I refer to the scenes before or during the confrontation; and when I mention “Rhys”, it’s after the confrontation.