The Feel of Water

Worlds Colliding

"We can't keep doing this. My daughter is starting to wonder why I'm not bringing you home to meet her. I just—I need this to be over, alright? You have a family. A wife. A kid. I'm not this type of woman, Pete."

Pete hardly glances back from the other side of the bed. He ties his nice shoes and stands up, straightening his shirt. "Then don't, Jaqueline. Don't do it anymore."

Jaqueline watches as he ties his tie. She bends down to grab her own shoes and secures them on her pedicured feet. Silence falls between them, but they both know it won't last long. Jaqueline will never let go—she needs him.

"You told me you would leave her."

"I told you it would take time," Pete corrects and turns to face her. "I need time."

She smooths down her inky black hair, hating how trashy the motel makes her feel. "I just want to go home."

Pete grabs her shoulders as she walks to the door. His grip is firm. She always knew how controlling he could be, but sometimes it felt nice. "I need time, Jaqueline, please. You know I love you. I have ever since we were kids."

"It always should have been us," she murmurs. "High school sweethearts. Then Debbie—"

"Debbie is a good woman," Pete says. He never likes it when she talks about Debbie. "Come on. Let's go."

Together they left the motel in the cover of night. Pete drove Jaqueline's SUV—she had had a few glasses of wine in the room. This was routine for them. Pete would come by her house after work and after telling Debbie he was too busy to make it to dinner. He would park down the street and they would meet in the driveway where Jaqueline parked. She drove them to the same motel just down the road. It was routine, and it was all she had to escape her life of work and motherhood.

Pete drove a nice Lexus. The license plate frame was football-themed, and he had picked it out with his son a while back. He couldn't risk someone recognizing it outside of a place like this. He was Pete Donovan. He was respected.

They fought on the drive back because Jaqueline was growing impatient. She was distracting Pete as she moved her body and frustratingly swung her arms around. He was arguing back, looking at her for too long when he ran a red light. Then it was quick. Everything flashed in front of them as they nearly flew out of their seats. Jaqueline screamed. And she screamed again once she saw the car they collided into.

"Fuck," Pete breathed. "Shit. Shit, Jaqueline!"

"You hit someone!"

Pete's eyes went wild. He quickly looked around, out all windows. "We can't stay here. I can't be here."

Jaqueline knew then what she had to do. She told Pete to get in the back so she could take his place. He snuck out the back passenger door and into the brush on the side of the road. Her heart was racing—she had never been in an accident this bad, but it was her car, and she knew no one could see them together. Her hands gripped the wheel; her knuckles turned white. She waited there, pretending to be in shock.

Soon people got out of their cars and someone came to her window. She was worried that they may have seen Pete slip away, but they all seemed to be watching the other car.

She was confident in her decision—well, until she found out the people in the other car were dead.

There was no camera at that intersection—she knew that. The city only paid for the busy, big intersections to have cameras. That's when she knew she was taking the fall.

She knew all fingers pointed at her.

It was all over.