In Five Years: A Novel - Rebecca Serle Page 0,18

And after the accident no one was allowed a drink in our house, not even a thimbleful of wine. Completely dry. My parents still are, to this day.

“I’m in the mood for some meat,” David says. We’ve never ordered anything other than the arugula or classic pizza here. Meat?

“I’d split a sausage with you,” Aaron says.

David smiles and looks at me. “I never get sausage. I like this guy.”

I’ve been preoccupied, possessed, since I saw him on the sidewalk. For the first time, I consider the reality that this man is Bella’s boyfriend. Not the guy from the premonition—but the one sitting across from her now. For one thing, he seems good and solid. Funny and accommodating. It’s usually like pulling teeth to get one of her boyfriend’s to make eye contact.

If he were anyone else, I might be thrilled for her. But he isn’t.

“Where do you live?” I ask Aaron.

I see flashes of the apartment. Those big, open walls. The bed that overlooked the city skyline.

“Midtown,” he says.

“Midtown?”

He shrugs. “It’s close to my office.”

“Excuse me,” I say.

I get up from the table and wind my way to the bathroom, which exits off a little hallway.

“What’s going on?” It’s David on my heels. “That was weird. Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “I don’t feel well.”

“What happened?”

I look at him. His face is studying me with concern and . . . something else. Surprise? It’s close cousins with annoyance. But this is unusual behavior for me, and so I’m not sure.

“Yeah, it just hit me. Can we go?”

He glances back into the restaurant, as if his gaze will reach the table where Bella and Aaron sit, no doubt just as baffled.

“Are you going to throw up?”

“Maybe.”

This does it. He springs into action, placing a hand on my lower back. “I’ll let them know. Meet me outside; I’ll call a car.”

I nod. I head outside. The temperature has dropped markedly since we arrived. I should have brought a jacket.

David comes out with my bag, and Bella.

“You hate him,” she says. She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“What? No. I don’t feel well.”

“It was pretty spontaneous. I know you. You once muscled through the full-blown flu to fly to Tokyo.”

“That was work,” I say. I’m clutching my stomach. I’m actually going to vomit. It’s all going to come out on her green suede shoes.

“I like him,” David says. He looks to me. “Dannie does, too. She had a fever earlier. We just didn’t want to cancel.”

I feel a wave of affection for him, for this lie.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I tell her. “Go enjoy your dinner.”

Bella doesn’t budge from her place on the sidewalk, but our car comes and David holds the door open for me. I dive inside. He walks around and then we’re off down Mulberry, Bella disappearing behind us.

“Do you think it’s food poisoning? What did you eat?” David asks.

“Yeah, maybe.” I lean my head against the window, and David squeezes my shoulder before taking out his phone. When we get home, I change into sweats and crawl into bed.

He comes and perches on the edge. “Can I do anything?” he asks me. He smoothes down the comforter, and I grab his hand before he lifts it off.

“Lay down with me,” I say.

“You’re probably contagious,” he says. He puts the back of his hand on my cheek. “I’m going to make you some tea.”

I look at him. His brown eyes. The slight tufts of his hair. He never uses product, no matter how many times I tell him everyone needs it.

“Go to sleep,” he says. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He’s wrong, I think. I won’t. But I fall asleep anyway. When I dream, I’m back in that apartment. The one with the windows and the blue chairs. Aaron isn’t there. Instead, it’s Bella. She finds his sweatpants in the top drawer of the dresser. She holds them up and shakes them at me. What are these doing here? she wants to know. I don’t have an answer. But she keeps demanding one. She walks closer and closer to me. What are these doing here? Tell me, Dannie. Tell me the truth. When I go to speak, I realize the entire apartment is filled with water and I’m choking on everything I cannot say.

Chapter Eight

“It’s nice to see you again,” Dr. Christine says.

The plant is still there. I assume, now, that it’s fake. Too much time has passed.

“Yes, well,” I say. “I don’t really know who else