A Stranger on the Beach

16

Waves crashed on the sand. Gulls spiraled overhead, their shrill cries making the empty beach feel desolate. Nobody knew where I was, except for Aidan. My daughter, my sister—they believed I was safe at home. My faithless husband, if he bothered to think of me at all, wouldn’t know to worry. These things occurred to me as I hesitated at the entrance to the cave. Where had Aidan gone? Was he inside there? I needed my car keys. I stepped forward to take a closer look. Suddenly he was behind me, and I jumped. He’d walked around the boulder and snuck up behind me like an immature kid.

“What the hell, Aidan.”

“Go in,” he said, looming over me.

“What? No.”

“I said, get in there,” he said, and gave me a shove.

My stomach flipped as he pushed me through the narrow entrance into a larger, wider space. It was dank and claustrophobic, with dripping rock walls as thick as the cliff itself. He guided me toward a low rock that was covered with sand, the ground around it strewn with cigarette butts and used condoms.

“What the hell are you doing?” I said, my voice quavering.

“I didn’t want you to miss this place.”

“So you shoved me?”

“I wanted you to see. Magic, isn’t it?”

“It’s—dirty,” I said.

Aidan’s face tightened.

“Not fancy enough for you, princess?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

I knew what he was after. But I was put off by him now, even anxious about what he might do. I didn’t want sex. What I wanted was to tell him this was over. That it had been a wonderful distraction, but now it needed to end so we could go back to our real lives. The trouble was—crazy as it sounds, since I was a forty-three-year-old housewife, and Aidan was a gorgeous young guy—I was convinced he’d take it badly. You’d think it would be the other way around. That I’d be the one to get overly attached after a one-night stand. But I hadn’t, and it was beginning to seem like he had. We were alone in a cave on a deserted beach. Aidan stood between me and the exit. Making him upset in this confined space was not a smart idea. I floundered around for an excuse.

“I’m—I’m claustrophobic,” I said. “I’ll have an anxiety attack if I stay here.”

He came up to me, took me by the shoulders, and looked down into my eyes.

“Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m around. Promise. I won’t let it, okay? Come sit down.”

He took off his jacket and brushed sand from the big rock, then kicked some of the detritus that surrounded the rock into the corner. I’d made it clear that I wanted to go. It was beginning to worry me that he wouldn’t listen. While his back was turned, I edged toward the exit.

“I’m nervous in here, Aidan. Can we go, please?”

“Give it a chance.”

“You showed me the place, now I need to leave. I’ve been telling you all morning I have things to do.”

His face fell. “You’re mad at me. What did I do wrong?”

“I’m—I’m stressed, okay? My life is a mess. I don’t have time for this right now.”

I moved toward the exit. He blocked me.

“Let me take your mind off it.”

“That only works for so long.”

“It’ll work again. I promise.”

He kissed me on the mouth. I didn’t kiss back. His teeth ground against my lips as he pushed me backward toward the rock. My legs hit it, and I sat down hard. I felt the rock, rough and cold, through my jeans. Aidan sat beside me and started groping, his hands rough on my body, my breasts.

“I want you so much,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck.

He reached for the buttons of my shirt. I pushed his hands away.

“Aidan, no. Stop it.”

He pulled back momentarily. His expression had changed again, this time to fury. His face was red, his mouth screwed up like he wanted to spit.

“What’s the problem? I was good enough for you last night.”

He grabbed my hand and pressed it to the bulge in his pants. I pulled away.

“I said no.”

“You don’t mean it.”

We wrestled. He was bigger and stronger. My heart beat wildly. Before I could get up and run, he’d unzipped. His hands tugged at the waist of my jeans. He pulled me under him, stood above me, yanked his jeans down to his knees. There was no point in screaming. The rock walls were too thick, the wind and the surf too loud on the beach. If I yelled, or fought, or resisted in any way, I’d only make him angrier. I couldn’t predict how he’d react, because I barely knew him, but he might hurt me. The Catholic girl inside my head, the one my mother had raised to feel responsible when men misbehaved, was saying, What the hell did you expect? He’s not gonna to take no for an answer when you already told him yes.

I was about to give in when I heard a noise. Above the sound of Aidan’s rushed breathing, there was a scrambling, a dislodging of pebbles near the cave entrance that attracted my attention. Aidan jumped off me, pulling up his pants. The two surfer dudes we’d seen before out on the water stood there in dripping wet suits, staring at us.

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