Page 63 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

HOW HARD IT IS TO HIDE THE TRUTH

Barbara

Sleeping last night was impossible. I spent the long hours with my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling of the room while the sound of the sea drifted in through the window and mingled softly with Lidia’s breathing. My head was full of thoughts spinning round and round, creating a dull, unbearable pressure in my chest.

What tormented me—and continues to torment me—is not my feelings for Lidia. That was always clear to me, as clear as the turquoise water surrounding this island. It’s everything else: every single lie I’ve kept to myself these past few days, everything I’ve ignored and left out of this wonderful bubble. At first I thought it wouldn’t catch up with me, but… as the days have gone by, it’s caught up with me more and more, like a wave that keeps growing bigger, one you know will eventually swallow you whole.

I can’t keep dragging this out any longer. Lidia doesn’t deserve what I’m doing to her, much less to suffer again because of me. I can’t keep this a secret forever and hope she finds out when this trip comes to an end. I have to tell her because if I keep going like this, the situation is only going to get worse.

The morning unfolds with a cruel calm, as if the world were mocking me, forcing me to face my problems with no possible escape. The sky is clear, painted a deep blue that seems unreal; the air is light and smells of salt and wildflowers; the entire island looks like something out of a postcard, the kind that invites you to believe that life can be simple and beautiful. We walk together along one of the paths that run along the coast. On one side, the sea shimmers with that unreal turquoise hue, and small waves break gently against the shore. On the other, the palm trees sway softly in the breeze, letting the sunlight filter through their leaves in golden beams that dance across the path.

Between us… there is silence. It isn’t awkward, nor is it tense, but it is different. While we were showering, Lidia already noticed that something was going on with me, and it’s not like I’m very good at hiding my emotions. She’s always had a special radar for my moods, and even though I still don’t know how I’m going to tell her, I know it can’t wait any longer.

“You’re still so quiet,” she finally says, turning toward me with that natural ease of hers that I love so much and that now terrifies me.

Her voice doesn’t sound accusatory. It’s soft, affectionate, but direct. Her reddish hair flows in strands of fire that brush against her forehead and cheeks. Lidia looks like a goddess pulled straight from the ocean itself, beautiful and unique.

I pause, take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes because maybe this is the moment I’ve been waiting for, the moment that’s going to change everything forever.

“I was just remembering the past…” I begin, and my voice comes out in a whisper. “I was thinking about my arrival in London, about how hard it was for me to realize that you were a thousand times more important than anything else in my life.”

Her expression softens instantly, filled with tenderness, and I feel my heart tighten.

“Well, the best part is that…” she replies, wrapping her arms around my neck in a slow, loving gesture. “You still have time to fix everything, don’t you think?”

Her smile… My God. Her smile is everything I don’t deserve right now. It’s radiant, sincere—the kind that lights up her whole face and makes little wrinkles form around her eyes. I feel my stomach clench, the words crowding in my throat, struggling to come out, and the magic taking shape around us, suspended, waiting for me to dare break it.

“Lidia… I…” I begin, my voice trembling slightly. “I want to tell you something…”

But I’m unable to finish the sentence because, at that moment, my phone rings and the repetitive sound of the ringtone shatters everything. As I pull it out of my pants pocket, Ingrid’s name flashes on the screen next to the video call icon.

“Your coworker again?” Lidia asks, leaning slightly toward me, curious as she tries to see the screen.

I feel a cold sweat run down my back from top to bottom. My pulse races so fast I can feel it in my temples, and my mind, for a second, goes completely blank.

“Yeah… uh… I’ll call her back later,” I reply quickly, awkwardly, so obviously that Lidia raises an eyebrow as she watches me press the reject button.

I quickly tuck my phone back into my pocket, as if hiding it could make the whole problem it represents disappear too. But all I manage to do is turn it into a noose around my neck, one that starts tightening and choking me.

“You could’ve answered, you know?” Lidia says casually, shrugging slightly. “It might be important.”

I look her straight in the eyes and see her trust, her calm; she doesn’t doubt me for a second, and that—precisely that—is what tears me apart inside. I don’t deserve any of it.

“It wasn’t important, I’m sure,” I lie, and the words taste bitter in my mouth.

Again. When are you going to stop lying? I ask myself, and she nods without questioning it, without suspecting a thing.

We resume our walk, but now everything feels heavier. The air seems thicker, the silence more oppressive, every step heavier, every glance another small betrayal added to all the others. I’m aware that as soon as I look Lidia in the eyes again, everything I’m hiding will spill out uncontrollably, overflowing like a river breaking through a dam.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she insists, this time her voice tinged with gentle but genuine concern.

I stop again on the path. And this time I can’t look away. I don’t want to, but I also don’t know exactly how to face her without breaking down.

“Yes,” I reply, and I hate how my voice sounds—so fake, so hollow.

It’s not true. I’m not okay. I’m about to break something that I shouldn’t even have let happen in the first place.

“It’s just…” I add, desperately searching for something to hold on to so I don’t sink. “I guess everything that’s happening is stirring things up inside me. Coming back here, reliving memories… I don’t know, it’s making me a little emotional.”