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Her parents.
Her sister.
Her uncle.
Abuelo.
The names and faces of people that she used to talk about when I was a kid, now they were faded, like I fear she will be one day. I hate grief. I need to go out for a walk and not think about what is to happen later on tonight.
“Where are you going, flamingo?” Alberto asks as I step off the stool. I didn’t realize he was watching me or was still in the house. All I heard was silence, the voices, the cries I’d managed to block out. I was no stranger to grief, I’d been here more than once before.
“Out,” I snap, because I’m enjoying my silence. The idea of someone breaking it sends me on edge.
My phone chimes, and I take it out of my pocket to see it’s a message from Diego.
Three hours and I’ll be there.
¡Mierda!
I forgot that he’s on his way. I can’t deal with it. So I put my phone down and then head out of the door.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Why, Alberto? Why do you want to be with me?”
He shakes his head. “You’re not the only one hurting. We all loved her too.”
I turn around, not wanting to talk to him, but I can hear his footsteps following me. I head down the fields, the trail I’d taken with her as a child, and I want to feel her beside me walking and talking to me about everything that happened that day. How Mamá should try and relax more, and Papá should be a man. Her best friend as a child, who is Diego’s abuela.
Wait.
Does she even know?
Maybe this is why Diego is telling me that he’s on his way now—no, he said it to me last night. But did that really happen? I don’t even know what is real and didn’t happen anymore. Ican’t deal with anyone right now. It’s selfish of me, something I’ve never really done in my life.
“You’re always thinking of everyone else. Sometimes you need to think about yourself,” she would say to me. I did when I decided that I would go to NY to work for Diego.
Diego.
It’s as if the more I try and push him out of my mind, the more he just floats into it.
“I remember a few months ago walking with her on this trail. She said it was one of your favorites. This was when I knew she started to forget. She would talk as if we were both together,” Alberto says.
A tear escapes my eye as I remember that the only two people in our family that knew we were together was her and Belén. Belén caught Alberto and I kissing one day. But I told Abuela. She said to me that I was supposed to marry Diego, but seeing as there had been a change of plans there was no harm in me dating Alberto. As long as that was all I was doing. I remember her telling me that family values had been lost, and no one did what they were supposed to do anymore.
No one except Belén.
“Why did you fuck my sister?” I ask as I spin around to face Alberto. This is a conversation we should have had a long time ago, and I don’t know why, but for some reason I feel as if I want answers.
“Honestly, I never knew it wasn’t you.”
I think back to my wedding to Diego. he knew from the moment he took my hand that I wasn’t Belén, yet the guy I had been dating for months couldn’t figure out the lips that were on his weren’t mine.
“This is the part that worried me. This is the reason I left. You couldn’t even tell us apart.”
“I can now.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late.”
