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“I’m not fucking letting it go until you tell me.When?” he yells, making me stumble back a step. Miguel has never,everyelled at me, not like this.
“Three years ago,” I whisper softly, my eyes falling shut.
The silence that settles over us is almost deafening. My heart is beating violently in my chest as I wait for his reaction. I expect more yelling, but instead, his words are so soft it’s somehow worse.
“Where is our baby, Rebecca?”
I squeeze my eyes, feeling the burn of the tears gathering behind my eyelids.
Fuck.
All this time, and the mention of one of the darkest days of my life still hurts just the same as it did the day I lost everything.
The day my heart shattered when I lost the boy I’d loved all my life, only to lose the last part of him I had in the very same breath.
Three years ago
It takes me hours and a big chunk of cash, but I somehow get a seat on the next flight back to Austin, which is early the next morning. So, instead of being with my boyfriend, I spend the night at the airport, my arms curled around my knees as I reject every single call and message he sends me.
Miguel:
Where are you, Rebecca?
You just ran away?
Like wtf?
You didn’t even give me a chance to explain what happened!
Just come back so we can talk.
Red, please, it’s not what it looks like.
Not what it looks like, my ass. Could he be any more cliché? I sawthem! I saw them with my very own eyes. God knows what I would have walked into if I had come a few minutes earlier.
Although I wanted nothing more than to turn off my phone, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t risk not answering the call from Mrs. Santiago or Matthew, so I sat there and tortured myself every time my phone buzzed, the images of Miguel and that girl flashing in my mind like snapshots every time the screen would light up until I was forced to turn the phone off.
The whole flight home isn’t any different. It was like my mind was on a loop, and the only thing I could think about was Miguel. His hands on that girl. Him looking into her eyes. Him kissing her.
How did this happen?
Whydid this happen?
Was he that unhappy?
Why didn’t he just say something instead of hooking up with somebody behind my back? And not just with anybody, the girl looked like a freaking model. She was everything I was not, and I couldn’t stop comparing us. Thinking of what I did, considering what I could have done differently to prevent this.
There are so many questions swirling inside my head, but no answers.
By the time we land, my head is pounding, and my stomach is rolling with unease. Although I tried to keep quiet, there was no hiding my tears. I think my seatmates were grateful to be able to get away from me as soon as we landed.
I make my way out of the plane and find my truck.
Only then do I turn my phone on, and my heart twists inside my chest as I wait for the messages to come through, and they do.
Dozens of them.
I bite into my lip as I watch them pop on my screen.
