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I’m stewing in my anger. Drowning in a heady concoction of regret and hurt that makes it nearly impossible to breathe, but I do. One inhale at a time while one of my best friends sits across from me at an airport bar inside of Miami International.
My flight leaves in three hours, but I’ve avoided being found thus far and I’m praying they heed my request to stay away. I don’t want to see anything of them. Ever again.
A sardonic laugh slips from me, and I down what’s left of my second sex on the beach. “Maybe that’s what I need.”
“What do you need?” Nat asks, picking at her order of chips and salsa. The girl is obsessed with them and never fails to order some whenever they’re on the menu. “You’ve been muttering a lot, and I have no clue if I missed something.”
“A good hard fuck with a stranger on the beach.”
“Okay,” she says, dragging the words out. “Not at all what I expected you to say.”
“Couldn’t hurt to give it a try now.” I shrug, but even that is listless. It’s as if all the air inside my words has been sucked out and I’ve been left to gape and choke until it’s my time to die. “Casual sex could be beneficial.”
All this time, for years, I trusted him. Blindly. Like a puppet.
Not once have I looked at another man, and not for lack of attention. Men have always flirted—threw out a cheesy line or two—but I never entertained the idea of being with anyone but Ivan.
How can I when he’s been scaring away anyone who tries to get close since high school.
But there have been plenty of women who’ve tried and failed to date him. At least, I thought so until the chick inside the De Leons’ home. His parents didn’t rebuke her or try to defend me; I was the outcast.
Always have been. Always will be to them.
She’s nothing but an obligation.
Well, screw them.
They can figure out the dead body’s meaning, and the threat I want no part of. As of today, right this second, I don’t care.
For years, I’ve silently fought my doubts over my importance in his life. My place.
I’ll never be that ignorant girl again Can’t afford to be.
“No mas. This is it for me.”
“No more what, chica? Be more specific.”
I haven’t seen or heard from Ivan since he left my place. Since I once again proved my weakness and let him take me in the shower. I begged for his touch. I instigated everything. Moreover, for years I’ve accepted the scraps of attention without shame—to just feel him next to me was enough—and all of that is my fault.
How can a man take you seriously like that?
No reproach. No demands for an explanation.
Instead, I’ve always been there with my legs spread. Literally.
“I’m an idiot, Nat. A total fucking pendeja for continuing to put myself in this position.” A flight announcement comes through the speakers, but it’s not mine and I wave my now-empty glass at a waiter. The bar and grill we’re inside of isn’t far from my terminal, yet it seems empty suddenly, and I scan the surrounding areas just in case. Nothing. He’s not here. And I let out a huge sigh of relief at that. Now more than ever I need to get away from my responsibility. From life. Him. “Why can’t I just send him to hell and be done with everything? He doesn’t deserve me.”
The truth tastes bitter on my tongue because the pedestal I’ve always put Ivan on has crumbled and the rubble lies at my proverbial feet. It’s left me shaking. Unable to breathe without feeling his absence.
“Maybe there’s a good explanation?” By Nat’s expression, even she doesn’t believe it. Her response irks me, but before I can respond, my cell phone rings again.
At this point, I’m ready to break the device.
But it’s not a De Leon this time. No. It’s Jaime Uriel, and in the mental state I’m in, I have no patience for the man. It’s why I answer while baring my teeth, welcoming the anger I hold for all males at the moment.
“What?”
“Amberlyn?”
