Page 16 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

“The heat, the exhaustion, and the cocktail are playing a cruel, nasty joke on me…” I tell myself, running a hand over my forehead. “I’d better keep walking and get to the beach. A little water will do me good.”

However, when the lights in the foyer hit her face full-on and she brushes her hair back with that familiar gesture, there’s not a trace of doubt left. “It can’t be…” I feel the air grow thicker, and at the same time, the memories I share with her suddenly come flooding back.

The first day I met her, I was lost and just as tired as I am now. She seemed like she’d been there forever, because it only took her a couple of sentences to get the waiter to bring me some water. She was wearing a beautiful white dress that floated with every step she took, and she had a smile that captivated me and made me forget everything. Days later, we kissed with the sea as our only witness; hours after that, we slept together. And with that first orgasm, I knew I’d just found something I’d never searched for, but desperately needed.

I snap back to the present, and Barbara is still right where she was seconds ago. My first impulse is to go find my father and ask him if he’s been stupid enough to invite her to his wedding. But I can’t move a single inch, and I remain frozen where I am, unable to take my eyes off her.

Barbara looks exhausted. She’s pale, her eyes are rimmed with dark circles, and she barely pays attention to her surroundings; she’s just waiting for the receptionist to take care of everything she needs and hand her the key to her bungalow.

“Come on… I’m sure she has no idea you’re here,” I tell myself, trying to calm down a little.

But all that does is make my pulse race even faster and a knot form in my stomach. Because if she doesn’t know I’m here, then this reunion is nothing more than a trap set by my father.

I take another sip of my cocktail, and for several seconds I keep my eyes fixed on her. I could stay right where I am, still and silent. Pretend I haven’t recognized her. Go back to my bungalow, lock the door, and wait until the next morning to face whatever comes. That would be the reasonable thing to do, the most mature and sensible choice, but I can’t be sensible at a moment like this.

So I set my glass down somewhere and start walking. I don’t have any specific plan. Nor do I have a speech prepared. I don’t even know what I’m going to say when I’m face-to-face with her, but I can’t just turn around and carry on as if nothing had happened.

“Barbara!” I shout from a distance, and she, startled to hear her name, takes a few seconds to turn around and focus her full attention on me.

There’s something magical about silence, something that only happens in moments that mark your life forever; her eyes widen in surprise, she turns pale as if she’d seen a ghost, and she looks me up and down as if I were a dream born from the exhaustion she seems to be carrying on her shoulders.

We look at each other in silence. And then, almost simultaneously, we smile. It’s not a smile full of joy—no, it’s one of those ironic smiles that emerge when you grasp a truth that’s all too obvious and leaves you with no possible escape. No one but my father is to blame for this reunion, and everything suddenly falls into place. He’s set us up… and even though I love him dearly, he has no idea what a crazy thing he’s done.

CHAPTER 9

TOO CLOSE TO BE TRUE

Barbara

When I hear my name spoken in Lidia’s voice, my mind goes blank, suspended in midair with my heart pounding against my ribs, wondering if what I’m experiencing is real or not. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize what’s happening, as if the whole world had decided to shut down my brain for a moment.

When I turn and see her there, lit by the light from the hotel entrance, I have to blink several times. She’s still the same, exactly as I remembered her: her green eyes, her reddish hair, her beautiful curves. I don’t know at what point I convinced myself that I’d erased every little detail about her from my memory, because yes… our story ended, but not for my heart.

“Shit,” I think when I realize that Pablo has played a trick on us. Well, at least on her. Because I was aware that this could happen, that sooner or later we’d run into each other and have to talk. The problem is that I’m sure she never imagined her father would want me here, that I’d be one of those special people destined to share with him the most wonderful day of his life.

My brain, despite my exhaustion, starts to wake up, and I turn on my heels to face her despite the distance between us—a couple of meters or more. The girl at the front desk talks and talks, but I’m not paying her any attention. I have something far more interesting right in front of me. Lidia looks so good… “Damn it, she looks even better than the last time you saw her,” that little voice reminds me—the one that always pops up when I’m lying. She’s still haughty, visceral, and impulsive. She still furrows her brow when things get out of hand. And she’s still so attractive… “Damn it.” Time should have softened my feelings toward her, but it hasn’t, and the reality is much worse.

My phone vibrates in my pocket suddenly. Once. Then again. And again. I frown and pull it out almost on instinct. The screen lights up with a flood of notifications: WhatsApp, messages, missed calls. Among them all, Ingrid’s name appears, and I feel the automatic urge to open the conversation and reply. Today is the last league game, and I’m sure her nerves are eating her alive. But I put the phone away and look up again.

I walk toward Lidia without taking my eyes off her, and when I’m just a couple of steps away, I stop. The air between us is charged with electricity, with all the memories we’ve shared and everything I’ve kept hidden over the years. I tilt my head slightly and let out a small sigh that could pass for a nervous laugh.

“Well,” I murmur at last, with a half-smile I don’t even try to soften. “The last thing I expected today was to run into you like this, right after I arrived.”

Her reaction is immediate. Her eyes narrow just a millimeter, and the corner of her mouth curves with that sharp irony I remember all too well.

“Well, if it bothers you that much, you shouldn’t have come, don’t you think?”

“There it is.” I stare at her in silence for a couple of seconds, feeling my heart lurch in my chest and the urge to argue with her—and let the sparks fly—welling up inside me.

“And miss your father’s wedding? No way,” I reply with a calmness I don’t actually feel inside. “Besides, the resort is too big for us to run into each other. If I’d known you were staying here…”

She raises an eyebrow and doesn’t let me finish:

“What?” she insists, her tone tinged with defiance. “Would you have switched islands to avoid running into me?”

“Probably.”

The silence that follows is awkward. All around us, the resort goes on as usual, but in this small space we share, everything seems suspended in time. Lidia crosses her arms over her chest, and that simple gesture takes me on a journey back to those nights filled with arguments, to the tension that grew inside me with every fight and that ended in kisses, in sex, in passion, and in reconciliations where everything seemed possible.