Page 66 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

“It was a disaster,” she murmurs, though her lips are already starting to curve into a smile.

“No,” I say, laughing harder. “You were on the verge of an anxiety attack and needed to control every detail, as always.”

Her expression changes. It softens little by little, as if my words were melting something inside her.

“I’ve always been like that,” she admits with a light, almost resigned sigh.

“I know,” I reply, and my voice comes out almost sickly sweet. “But even so… it was one of the most beautiful days of my life.”

I look her straight in the eyes. I don’t regret saying it because it’s true. Because, even with everything that happened afterward, that doesn’t change the fact that my moments with her still shine in my memory as something pure, untouched.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and for a second I see worry in them. A shadow that hides the loving glow they held just a few days ago.

I want to ask her about it, but her phone rings again, and when she looks at the screen, Ingrid’s name flashes on it once more.

“Your coworker is persistent, isn’t she?” I remark, letting out a sigh. “And you’re on vacation…”

I say it without malice, without thinking too much about it. Just as a lighthearted observation. But Barbara’s reaction isn’t normal. She suddenly turns pale, as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. The color drains from her cheeks in an instant, and she stands up too quickly, awkwardly.

“I’ll go see what she wants… I’ll be right back,” she says in a tense voice, without looking me in the eye.

I don’t have time to answer. I don’t have time to ask anything. Barbara hurries toward the door, and I’m left alone in the middle of the boutique. I’d like to believe that everything is fine, but as the minutes pass, the constant feeling that something isn’t right grows and expands until it creates a knot in my stomach.

I get up from my seat and start walking around the store, running my fingers along the dresses hanging on either side. Every so often, I glance toward the door. I’m afraid—afraid that after opening my heart again, I’ll end up heartbroken once more. It’s not that I don’t trust Barbara; I do. But we’ve been through something like this before, and things didn’t turn out well.

“What’s going on this time, Barbara…?”

Her reflection in the window, her gestures; Barbara is upset, and what was once just a silly hunch, a vague feeling, isn’t anymore. It’s something that’s starting to take shape, taking on clear contours, and for the first time in many days, it threatens to burst the bubble we’ve been living in. That bubble I thought was enough for both of us. But maybe… it never was.

I stand there, my heart racing as the cool air from the boutique brushes against my skin. I think of all the times I’ve caught her lost in her thoughts, of all those moments when her smile didn’t shine as brightly as it has these past few days. I wonder how long I’ve been ignoring the signs, how long I believed this magic would last. It was obvious that things weren’t going to be easy just because we wanted them to be, just because we kissed and let ourselves be swept away by our emotions and desires.

Without meaning to, the memory of the stormy night surfaces in my mind and steals my breath away. It should never have happened; I shouldn’t have thrown myself at her mouth with such desperation… But it was impossible for me to stop it—to stop that fire from awakening inside me and burning everything around it. It was like asking the sea to stop moving.

I feel a lump in my throat and tears stinging my eyes. I want to go to her, ask her directly what’s going on, hug her, and tell her I’m here—that whatever it is, we’ll face it together. But something holds me back. Fear, perhaps. The fear that the answer won’t be the one I want to hear. The fear that this trust I’ve worked so hard to rebuild will shatter, and we’ll both go back to being what we were before: two strangers.

I sit back down in the armchair, cross my legs, and look toward the dressing rooms where Miriam and my father are still trying on outfits. I hear their laughter, and a pang of healthy envy pierces me. They do seem sure of themselves. They do seem to be in the same place, at the same time. Why aren’t we?

Barbara is taking longer than expected. The boutique’s clock ticks away the minutes so slowly it makes my nerves fray. I try to distract myself by flipping through some fashion magazines, imagining situations that will never happen again, no matter how much I wish they would.

When she finally returns, her expression has changed. She tries to smile, but I already know that smile. It’s the one she used whenever she was hiding something serious. She sits next to me again, a little farther away than before, and the space between us feels bigger than it actually is.

“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to make my voice sound casual, even though inside I’m holding my breath.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies too quickly. “Work stuff. You know.”

I nod, but I don’t quite believe her. Her eyes avoid mine, and in that moment, I feel the unease that’s been growing all day settle a little deeper inside me. I don’t say anything else. I don’t want to push. Not here, not now. But I know something is changing. I know that our little bubble has cracks I didn’t see before, and I wonder if I’ll be able to fix them… or if I’ll have to learn to live with them.

The air in the boutique is still cool, but I feel an uncomfortable heat. The heat of doubt. The heat of waiting. As Miriam and my father come out of the dressing rooms laughing and happy, I glance sideways at Barbara and promise myself that I won’t let this slip away just like that. Because what we have, even if it seems fragile now, is still the most important thing I have. And I’m willing to fight to understand it, to keep it, to piece it back together again.

CHAPTER 34

TOO LATE TO STOP IT

Barbara

Outside the boutique

The air outside the boutique feels thicker than I remember, or maybe it’s just me who perceives it that way. It’s as if my own body is warning me that what’s about to happen isn’t going to be easy. My phone keeps vibrating in my hand, insistent, relentless, as if it weren’t willing to give me even a second’s respite until I answer. I press my lips together tightly and glance inside for a second, through the glass. Lidia is still there, standing, her gaze fixed in my direction. For a moment, I want to run out to the beach, ignore the call, and pretend nothing is happening, to keep living in this bubble I’ve built with her as if the real world didn’t exist. But I can’t. Not this time. Not after everything that’s happened these past few days.