Chapter 3

Paul laid on the bed for ages, staring up at the poorly-finished, uneven planks of the ceiling in catatonia of rage and dread. He knew he would have to get up eventually, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have to face her. He didn’t want to face him.

He could hear the sounds of breakfast outside: chairs moving, utensils striking plates and bowls, people talking.

He thought about just staying put and waiting for the others to finish so he could slink out unnoticed. But the longer he stayed holed-up in his room, the more likely it was that someone would stick their head through the door to check that he was alright; possibly Karen.

No. He had to face them sooner or later and he wanted to do it on his terms.

He got up, got dressed and with a mighty sigh of resignation, opened the door. He proceeded down the cabin’s narrow hallway and then turned right, into the small kitchen/dining area. Jeff and Karen were sitting at the table. Bert was manning the stove. Karen was the first to notice his presence.

“Hey!” she greeted with a friendly grin.

“Morning,” Paul acknowledged her, forcing a polite smile. He took the seat right next to Jeff and before long, Bert had served a plate of steaming bacon strips right up in front of him. Paul restrained himself to making a curt mumbling sound and hoped it would pass for an acceptable “thank you.”

He picked at his breakfast and watched in anguished silence as the banter between the trio continued.

He tried to gauge the current situation between Bert and Karen. Karen seemed more or less at ease around Bert and for some reason that made Paul’s stomach sink. He wondered if she didn’t even remember having sex with him. She had been extremely drunk at the time, after all. But the more he scrutinized the way they spoke to one another, the more he got the impression that she was well aware of what they’d done.

Bert seemed to be engaging with her much more than normal. Hidden within the small talk, Paul could see that Bert was even giving her some good-natured ribbing. Karen tolerated it with a smile, even if she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Near as Paul could tell, Karen wasn’t happy that she’d fucked Bert. But instead of being mortified by her poor judgement, as Paul might’ve hoped, Karen only seemed mildly embarrassed about the situation.

People have a saying about colossal social mistakes, “One day we’ll look back on this and laugh.” The implication being that that “one day” will be years, maybe decades away. But Paul got the distinct impression that for Bert and Karen that day was already here - and that cut through him like glass.

Marcy showed up after a few minutes and after the standard morning pleasantries, took the seat on the opposite side of Jeff. Her relationship with Bert seemed frosty as ever. Though oddly, Marcy seemed to be the hostile one this morning, while Bert was being uncharacteristically considerate. But Paul was too torn up with grief to care about their strange role-reversal.

By the time he’d cleared his plate, Paul had heard as much of Bert’s jovial banter with his poached love as he could stand. He just wanted to get out of there, away from both of them and spend some time alone to clear his head. He cleared his place as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself and then tried to slip out of the cabin unnoticed.