Page 91 of No Greater Oblivion

“Alex—”

He kisses me quickly. “I’ll turn it off.”

He reaches for the phone on the nightstand and almost declines the call but hesitates. He glances between me and the screen, torn between the woman in front of him and whomever is trying to reach him.

“It’s Diego.” Finally, he answers on the last ring. “What is it?”

Suddenly, I feel naked and exposed, as if he’s just allowed a stranger into the room to witness our vulnerability. I adjust the straps on my dress and wrap my arms around myself, wishing I could shrink away into nothingness.

“Diego, I can’t—” His voice is quiet and he eventually sighs. “All right, all right…”

He turns to look at me but I move away. I feel his hand caress my cheek and he says quickly, “Five minutes, I promise.”

Alejandro leaves, his whispers turning urgent and impassioned. And I sit there, silent and foolish, unable to defend myself. To be interrupted during such an intimate moment is one thing but for him to allow the interruption is a violation that stings.

Yesterday, I wasn’t able to answer his question about our happiness but now I can. I may love him but I am not happy with him.

And with terrifying clarity I realize my options are quickly diminishing to none.

22

THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE

Dahlia

The Past

Alejandro doesn’t come to bed until before dawn and barely sleeps more than a few hours before he’s up again. I tiptoe down the hall toward the study and only catch bits and pieces of what he’s saying. Whispers about shipments and names I don’t recognize, different secrets dancing across his tongue in a language I don’t understand. I want to burst through the door and scream at him to tell me.

What’s more important than us?

What’s so important that it’s worth pushing me away?

When Alejandro asked about my father last night, it hurt more than it should’ve. I tossed and turned all night, reliving the night my father left, trying to imagine different scenarios, a different world in which I mattered enough to make him stay. I wasn’t enough for my mother; I wasn’t enough for my father. I’m not enough for Alejandro.

I am not enough for anyone.

Am I here because he loves me or because he feels alone and he needs someone to fill a void in his life? Why won’t he speak to me, why won’t he share his life with me? I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Doesn’t he see how much it’s hurting me, doesn’t he care?

What do I have to do to get him to see me again?

I’m packing my overnight bag when Alejandro enters the bedroom.

“I was thinking.”

My back is to him when I answer, “What were you thinking?”

“We should take a drive.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over me. A little over a year ago I was in this exact same room, only as a captive and not an equal when he asked me the same question. Unfortunately for him, I’m in less of a forgiving mood.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t been able to eat all day and Alejandro’s been locked up in the study for hours. We’re supposed to be here until tomorrow but what’s the point? May as well start packing now and leave in another hour or two. I’m sure he’s eager to get back to work and I need to get my affairs in order.

It still feels so surreal. Am I really going to leave or will I try to make a go of it again? If I stay, it can’t be under these same conditions and if I leave, I don’t know what I’ll be going back to. There’s my apartment whose rent has been paid out for the year, Alejandro’s way of making me feel “secure” but now I can’t help but think of it as a safety net. Something he knew I’d need to fall back on when all of this eventually blew up in our faces.

I can’t think or sort through my feelings. Maybe it’s because I’m too numb to feel anything other than disappointment.

I hear his footsteps and he sits on the arm of the love seat behind me. I’m seated on the rug in front of the coffee table and refolding our clothes so I can pack them. His fingers dance across the skin of my bare shoulder as he pushes my hair aside and kisses the back of my neck.