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“Are you really asking me that question, Amaury?” Sol crosses her arms over her chest and steps back from me.
“Muñeca, te amo. I know we need to talk,pero eso no cambiamy feelings for you.” I stretch my arm out to her, but she puts more distance between us. My heart aches because she’s erecting a barricade after I worked so hard to tear it down. I know she loves me, I felt it when she kissed me, in her touch.
I push my hands through my hair. “Sol, please. Tell me how to fix this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Soledad
Fix this? “I’m not sure we can, Amaury.” My heart tightens at the words.
Amaury’s eyes widen. “¿Cómo?” He holds my stare, searching for answers.
The thumping in my heart increases. Is he for real right now? Acting surprised as if he has no idea what I’m talking about? “You lied to me. You’re married. If we hadn’t gone to the party, I would’ve never known you have a wife.”
“Yanelis is no my wife,” he says, his tone flat.
“Why would she say she is then? What does she have to gain from it?”
“En Cuba, we were together many years before I left. We always talked about marriage,perowe never got married.”
“So, she lied?” I purse my lips, remembering my conversation with Dayi yesterday.
He nods. “We always call each otheresposoandesposa, but everyone does that, married or no.” He’s telling me exactly what Dayi explained.
“Why wouldn’t you have told me? I asked and you ignored me!” A tear escapes from me and I swipe it away.
“Shock.Estaba enshock. I no understand what was happening in the moment.Me dejó sin palabras.” Without words is right, he literally said nothing to me that night—couldn’t even look at me.
I swallow, not prepared to hear the answer to the question I’m about to ask. “Do you love her?”
“No.” His head is shaking. “I loved her a long time ago. I was a different personviviendo otra vida.” His shoulders slump and the blood-spattered shirt momentarily distracts me from his words.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Because when I left Cuba, I left her. It was the end of our relationship.No sabía queI had a daughter.” His eyes meet mine and they’re solemn.
“You had no idea?”
Again, he’s shaking his head. “You remember when I told you how I left Cuba? I told no one, not my parents. No one, especially not Yanelis. We no tell anyone because it was dangerous and we no want to get arrested again. Less people know it’s better.” I remember our conversation from our first date, and it makes sense. I don’t understand it, but it makes sense.
I nod, let him know I’m listening.
“Yanelis’ father was an important man in the government. When I talked aboutLa Yumaand coming here, she always said no. Her family lived good in Cuba. When I saw her again last week, she told me about Analia. She was pregnant when I left,pero yo no sabía nada.” He drags his hands down his face. “I have a daughter and I’m a stranger to her.”
When I think about what I learned, it seemed impossible he’d be able to explain away what happened and that I’d forgive him. But if he was never married, is there anything to forgive? He left her not knowing she was pregnant. Left with the idea of it being the end of their relationship. What exactly should I have expected him to tell me, if in his mind it had ended all those years ago?
“Perdóname, Sol. I no mean to hurt you.Créeme.” I want to believe him, but right now I’m exhausted from what happened with Carmine. Honestly, I didn’t think we’d have this conversation right now.
“I’m tired, Amaury. I want to lie down and rest. Can we finish this conversation later?”
He nods. “You can sleep in my room, I no bother you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll sleep in one of the spare bedrooms.”
A ringing phone wakes me and when I look around, I don’t recognize where I am. I rub the sleep from my eyes and my face is still throbbing from Carmine’s slap. To my right, the window has dark gray curtains hanging from the black curtain rod. Light is peeking in through the part between the panels of fabric. The walls in this room are white, a picture of a palm tree lined street on one wall, and Havana’sMalecónon another. I stretch my arms behind my neck and roll my ankles. As I awake, I recall how my day started, the incident with Carmine, and how Amaury showed up at just the right time.
The clock on the dresser reads 18:54. I don’t know how to read military time. What time is it? How long have I been asleep for? I pull the covers back, rise, and make a quick bathroom stop. When I see my reflection in the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself. The left side of my face is red and swollen, red marks appear on my neck, imprints from Carmine’s hands. Tears leak from my eyes as I stare at the aftermath of everything I allowed Carmine to do to me over the years.I could’ve been dead, I whisper to myself.
