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"Just open it before you say anything," he urges with a grin. "I guarantee you'll like it."
So I do as he asks, and he turns out to be right...since what's inside is nothing but a beautiful pen with my name engraved on it...and a contract that just happens to require my signature.
This is actually what tonight's dinner is all about, with Greg having pointed out in our last Zoom meeting that celebrating my inheritance is also one way of honoring Pilar's memory.
I sign my name on each page of the contract, and Greg hands me my copy before we leave.
"Thank you," I say simply.
"It's what you're paying me for," he reminds me as we walk out of the restaurant...and nearly bump straight into Cesare, whose hand was resting on another girl's back.
No. No. No.
I rub my eyes, but the vision in front of me doesn't go away, and Cesare's lip even curls as if he finds my shock pathetic.
"H-How—-" How long has he been out? How did he get out? How?!
"I've been out for almost a month."
His voice is cold and dismissive, and every word feels like a knife to my heart. The girl next to him looks like she's dying to speak, but one look from Cesare has her biting her lip, and when our gazes meet, the look in her eyes has my favorite hobby calling.
Cesare's new girl feels BAD...for me.
My fingers dig desperately into my palms, but as soon as Cesare and his date walk past us, and the familiar scent of his aftershave hits me—-
No. No. No.
I throw up on Rufino's footsteps—-
And I know Cesare's heard me.
But he just doesn't give a fuck.
Is it today, God?
Is it today...that everything finally makespainfulsense?
****
GREG DRIVES ME BACKto my new place, and the whole ride is spent in silence. I wish I could just say'thank you',but I'm still terrified that the moment I open my mouth, the tears I've been desperately holding in check will never stop falling.
He pulls up by the sidewalk across my apartment building, and I get out of his car on my own. It just feels weird if I were to wait for him to open my door; that would make this seem like a date, which it's not.
"Sure you'll be okay?"
Relief breaks over me when I hear the concern threading through his voice. It's more than enough that he doesn't pity me the waythatgirl did.
"I'm fine."
"Want me to walk you up to the door?"
His phone rings before I can say no, and I know it's an important call when I see frustration flash in his eyes.
'Good night,'I mouth at him.
He makes a face as I wave at him, but he also mouths back 'good night' in the end.
I feel like it's only polite for me to remain in the lobby while he walks back to his car, and so I stay there...watching him.
