The Traitor ✓ (Book Six)

Chapter Twelve

One Month Later

  I've settled into my new jobs pretty well. We haven't had any more incidents with Maria yet, but I'm on edge.

  That is my job, after all. Today is a rare day off. I don't have to worry or think about her, and I finally get to go grocery shopping.

  I've just had more important things to do this past month: I've followed her to trials and been sleeping.

  The little sleep I get I do try to enjoy but it's hard. My dreams are constantly haunted by Emily's face, to the point I think she's trying to destroy me from the afterlife.

  I deserve it to.

  My latest one was of our first date.....only it wasn't. I was tricked into coming there for free food, and then a thousand Emily's emerged from the shadows and stabbed me..... over and over and over again.

  It was the pain of getting shot in the foot, but times a thousand since I felt everything.

  "Hey! Hey dude! Move!" Another shopper snaps his fingers in front of my face. I realize I'm standing as still as a statue in front of the main entrance, a basket around my arm so he can't even push past me.

  "I'm...I'm sorry." I mumble as I step aside. He just flips me off. I understand. I'd do the same thing.

  The tiny store has more of a selection than I'd imagined, more shoved on the shelves than any American grocery store; with almost half of it being  local brands and produce. I don't spend very long here.

  I just grab some produce and oats, since there's another store just yards away( in fact I can see it out the window of this one) I'd like to check out. The cashier here is friendly as I check out- I decide this will be my main store from now on, and then before I know it I'm standing outside, two brand new reuseable bags in hand- since Costa Rica's way of preserving the environment involves making plastic ones cost a hundred USD each.

Every country is doing things differently but they all agree on something: The United States needs to do more. They don't understand what's talking Lauren so long, but I have faith in her. She'll follow through on her plans, she always does.

  It makes me wonder if there's something else going on behind the scenes we don't know about.... but I guess it's none of my business.

  I start to head in the direction of that other store, but I get stopped by another pedestrian. At first he says nothing. He just stares at my face, trying to decide what he'll say.

  Then he clears his throat and apologizes.

  "I'm sorry. You just look so similar to....James García....but you must get that a lot so I'll.... I'll leave you alone." He shakes his head.

  Here we go.

  I don't know why I expected to never be bothered, coming here and faking my death. I'll always look like myself.....just as 2023 is what I'll always be remembered for.

  Nobody talks about me saving her life a year before that, and it's rare the media discusses me snapping and saving her life. When they do, it's brief like they're trying to create a narrative. I understand they've done it since the beginning of modern day news.... I just didn't think I'd be a victim.

  "Oh no it's fine-" I shake my head. "What do you wanna know?"

  Since I don't have anywhere to be today, I could really stand here talking to this man for hours.

  He appears to analyze my facial features again. I think the "birthmark" tattoo I got right before boarding the plane is throwing him off enough.

  "Well.... What's it like? To look so similar to such an ass?" He asks.

  God, I have so many sarcastic responses to that question, ones I built up in my head on the plane ride.... But none of them come out.

  "It's.... I get a lot of double takes like the one you just did. Not many people have the guts to say something."

  Only the truth does.

  In one month, I've gotten enough for a an entire lifetime.... Only four of which talked to me. He and my first taxi driver have been the only ones curious enough to keep asking questions.

  "How do you cope?" He continues.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Knowing that whenever people look at you, they'll always see someone who.... was dumb enough to think the only way to save  his girlfriend was by kidnapping the First Lady?"

  Oh boy.

  I wish I could give him a real answer. I've heard talking helps some people. I think therapy's a scam.....but just unloading everything onto some poor stranger wouldn't work.

  And yeah, looking back- the way I handled everything was dumb.

  But there's no magic time machine. What happened happened....but not the way he phrased it.

"That's not exactly how it happened." I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" He holds a hand over his ear to isolate my words among the noise all around us.

  "He was given two options. And keeping his soulmate alive was more important." I bite my lower lip until I taste blood.

  It was the little things, built up overtime that let me know how I felt about her. One of the first was just the way she laughed, the first time I ever saw her.

  Now, that memory is pain. Pure pain.

  "That clearly didn't work out." He delivers a blow I don't think I can come back from.

I failed her.

  She trusted me with her life and I failed her. The dude standing in front of me clearly doesn't understand the depth of what he just said, so I force myself not to take it out on him.

  Instead, I take a deep breath.

  "No....no it didn't. Excuse me for a second."