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Gemma shifts in her seat to continue waving to the toddler, a maniacal grin plastered on her face. It’s a clear case of baby fever. Which is odd to me, because she’s twenty, but she’s also crazy in love with her husband.
Based on the selection of photos in her file, it was difficult to tell. But every break she checks her phone, and the moment he’s down the mountain, she rushes to be with him. My friend Lauren is like that with her fiancé. My stepmom, Ava, calls it the starry-eyed phase, but I’m not sure why she of all people calls it a phase. She and my dad are still like that, and they’ve been together for over ten years now.
It’s not until the toddler disappears inside that Gemma lets out a sigh and shifts to face me once again. “What?” she asks.
“You’ve got it bad.” I say it with a teasing grin.
“Yeah, I do.” She settles back in her chair and gazes over the mountain, the smile erased.
“It’s only a matter of time,” I reassure her.
She shakes her head, disagreeing with my assessment. “No. We talked about it last night. He’s committed to the no kids thing. He refuses to reverse the surgery.”
Ugh. I can feel the disappointment and sadness rolling off her in waves, and I reach out to cover her hand and give it a supportive squeeze. “He could change his mind. You’re young. You’ve got so much time.”
“No. He’s not going to change his mind.”
“What’s his reasoning?” I don’t want children. It’s so rare to come across someone else who doesn’t want children, that I am genuinely curious to hear his rationale. Children don’t define us. They’re not a requirement for a fulfilled life.
“It’s…” She inhales deeply and unzips her winter coat a few inches. “Back home, it’s… I don’t know how much you know about Colombia.” She shifts her gaze from the mountain to me, and I can’t see her eyes, but I feel the heavy weight of her inquisitive examination.
“Never been there.”
“Rafael’s father is a politician. In the public eye. When people want to threaten his father, they do so by threatening those he loves. His mother was killed in a car bomb ages ago. His first wife, shot in a drive by shooting.”
“Oh, my god.” This information somehow isn’t in the CIA files. But, depending on when his mother died, Rafael’s father might not have been on our watch list. Our records show his first three wives disappeared, but now I wonder…
“He’s insistent. Says any children will be targets.”
“But he’s not in politics, right?”
“I thought he would change his mind. He told me before we got married. I am to blame.” She lifts her sunglasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, securing tears that welled up and leaked out. She holds the glasses up on her brow and shows me her face, “Did I smear my mascara?”
“No.” My heart hurts for her.
“Eyeliner okay?”
“It’s a little lighter near the corners but it’s not smeared.”
She sniffs. “Rafael can tell if I’ve been crying.”
“The make-up’s good. Really.”
Her phone rings. She picks it up. A second passes. Her posture stiffens and one hand clutches her coat’s zipper. I lean forward in my seat as uneasy nerves fire off.
“Which infirmary?” she asks in rapid-fire Spanish. “Imbecile.Sí. We’ll be there.”
She disconnects, and I dig out my wallet to throw cash on the table. She reaches for my wrist and squeezes. It’s the same comforting squeeze I gave her minutes ago. I search her face as my pulse quickens and the pit of my stomach free falls.
“He’s okay. But injured. He’s refusing to go to a doctor.” She shakes her head and bites out, “Men. Let’s go. We’re to meet them in the lobby.”
“Rafael?” She can’t mean it’s Fisher. He’s indestructible.
“Honey, it’s Damian. But he’s okay.”
We trudge over icy, packed snow, slipping and sliding on the way. We’re both wearing snow boots designed for these conditions, but as the temperature falls, more ice forms, creating a precarious path. I pepper her with questions until she stops so suddenly the person walking behind her slams into her back.
“Sophie.” She grips my arm and jiggles my coat. “Listen. He’s okay. Some sort of idiot injury. Rafael would insist on a doctor if he was seriously injured. My Rafe is a good man. He takes care of his own. If he’s letting him be an imbecile and return to the lobby, he is mostly okay. Understand?”
