Page 26 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

“I knew you’d end up saying yes.”

“I just agreed,” I remind him, raising an eyebrow and taking a long sip of coffee. “The moment I see any red flags, I’m out of there.”

“The only light you’ll see will be the sun shining on your face. You’ll see what a great time we’re going to have!”

· · ·

The pier glistens in the sun, and the light gives the water a hypnotic quality. The boat Pablo has rented sways gently, moored by ropes that creak softly with every sway. I should have given Pablo a convincing excuse, or simply told him the truth, but I couldn’t let him down when Miriam was the one who organized everything.

“Are you okay?” Pablo asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “You suddenly turned pale.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” I lie with a naturalness that comes to me effortlessly. “It’s just the heat. I’ve gotten used to the temperature in London, and this humidity is killing me.”

“You have a lie for everything, Barbara,” I tell myself.

For a few minutes, I just stare out at the sea, breathing in the salty air around me and trying to calm my anxiety. I just hope those reefs aren’t too far from the shore, that it’s only a few minutes away, and that I don’t end up being the center of attention on this family outing. But then Lidia appears, and what I’m feeling stops mattering.

She walks along the pier dressed just as she was when she appeared at the restaurant a few hours ago, absorbed in the scenery. Her hair is pulled back with a clip, with a few strands brushing her cheeks, and she wears sunglasses like a headband.

Our eyes meet and the world, once again, comes to a screeching halt. The tension arises immediately; dense, tangible, as if the air between us had suddenly thickened.

“Good morning, girls!” Miriam bursts in with a surge of energy, stepping right between the two of us with a broad, practiced smile. “We’re going to have a wonderful time, you’ll see. You must be Barbara,” she says, turning to me. “Pablo has told me so much about you. Thanks for coming.”

“And thank you for inviting me,” I reply politely. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

“And I you. But now, let’s go! The reefs look best when the sun is at its highest.”

Lidia doesn’t say a word, and her silence cuts deep.

We climb onto the boat, and as soon as I step onto the deck, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake. The movement is subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else. But for me, it’s enough to make my heart race and my knees go weak.

“Shit…”

I discreetly grab the railing and try to make sure no one notices how white my knuckles are turning.

“Breathe, Barbara. Take a deep breath. Exhale slowly. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Except it is. It always has been.

The engine roars to life with a deep purr that mingles with the lapping of the water. And then it really begins. My stomach churns with sadistic slowness, as if it wants to give me plenty of time to anticipate the disaster. I fix my gaze on the horizon, on that perfect line where the sky and the sea meet, but it’s no use.

“Are you okay?” Miriam whispers beside me, worried.

“Perfectly.”

And the smile I offer her wouldn’t fool even a stranger.

“You still get seasick on boats, don’t you?” asks Lidia, who suddenly approaches shortly after Miriam leaves.

“What do you think?” I reply, on the verge of throwing up everything I had for breakfast.

“You could have told my father,” she says in that sharp tone that mixes reproach and coldness. “It would have been easier to tell the truth than to put on that little show and ruin everyone’s day, don’t you think?”

There it is. Sharp as a knife, honest to the point of hurting.

I close my eyes for a second, take a breath, and let it out in a sigh.

“I didn’t want to ruin anything, Lidia.”