What happens when you find your One True Pair + 1?
Recent college grad Lexie Cambridge is *notoriously* indecisive. Gifted with a luxurious two-week cruise with her crush, she enlists her down-to-earth best friend for help determining when and how t...
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It was too on the nose that I had run from an arranged marriage in a past life. Way too on the nose. We got out of the hypnotism session as quickly as we could once it was over. In fact, Devon had gotten so overwhelmed that he had left a bit early.
There were quaint little bistro tables lining the sidewall of the ship outside the dining room. It seemed no one else wanted to take advantage of this duck-off. So, Devon, Lexie, and I followed the narrow walkway away from the frenetic pace of dancing throuples and quads trying to have a good time on the open deck. Jangling music reminiscent of Key West piped from a covert sound system, but the noise faded once we were alone, which was a godsend after the weighty Past Life Regression.
Anxiety still fluttered like moths in my stomach. At least I could blame the heat and humidity for my flushed look. I tried to avoid glancing at either Devon or Lexie, hoping they were avoiding studying me, as well. Instead, I pinned my eyes on the sun-bejeweled sea and the faint merging line of the blue horizon as I pieced together the fragments of memories and the subsequent discussion about that with Simico, the hypnotist. I guessed we were all trying to process the weirdness that we had just experienced because a silence descended that was thick and awkward.
Back at the peaceful room with the four divans and perfect ambiance for sleep, Simico had counted down to our past lives. I hadn't expected anything of consequence to happen. At most, I thought Simico would plant stories with leading questions.
Yet, once I fell under the hypnotist's spell, I remembered his lips on mine, the forbidden love that wasn't my wife. The man who had brought tears to my eyes at the very notion of losing him once I got married to her. Then, starry clandestine nights in a garden, quoting love poetry. Memories, memories, memories. Dancing to the music of a sitar. Praying to Shiva that his undoing of me would be gentle.
I had remembered the gradual slow burn of passion that finally ignited between the woman I was supposed to give my loyalty to from the very beginning. Falling in love with my actual wife had been unexpected. More surprising, the baby growing round and full of life within her belly. I had felt the push and pull yearning to be with both her and my lover pitted against the need to be upstanding and responsible. Keeping secrets had been hard.
Then came my harsh wake-up call, the war. I had been drafted, rendered once again incapable of choosing what I wanted to do with my life. I had died young. Had it been a relief to have the choice taken from me?
It felt like Devon, Lexie, and I had always been in this love triangle.
I forced myself to peek at my companions. Lex was radiant and stunning. She was such a stylish woman, manicured nails resting on the white tabletop. Balmy wind toyed with her shiny black hair, and strands floated across the fine-boned features of her face. My gaze slid to Devon, who was athletic and statuary. Dressed in casualwear that wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of a high fashion catalogue, he looked dapper.
