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Cristina is crying with tears streaming down her eyes.
“Where am I?” My voice a mere whisper that I don’t even recognize it.
“We’re in the back. You fainted and then Diego got carried out and we had to call an ambulance for Alberto,” she says it in one mouthful as if she’s giving me a summary of the events and then blinking her eyes as if she’s trying to make sense of it.
“What happened to Diego?”
“Belén!”
I try to sit up, and she helps me with one arm.
“Diego left ranting that Alberto’s been fucking his wife. He has the pictures, and then I saw Belén with a smile on her face. It doesn’t take much to know what was going on.”
I shake my head, because today I need to do something that I should have done a long time ago.
“Call my sister.”
“What?”
“Call her in.”
She shakes her head. “We need to get the service going, this is a funeral not a wedding. The pastor is already complaining about the time this has taken …”
I’m looking her dead in the eye, as I’m no longer lying down. I’m standing up with all the strength I have in me, to do the one thing I should have done a long time ago.
“Okay. I’ll go and find her and then we need to get this service underway.”
I don’t care about the pastor’s inconvenience for the day. I have one thing on my mind and that’s Belén. I head to the side, where there’s a bottle of water and a glass. I assume it’s for me, but I know I am thirsty so I don’t even bother with the glass and start drinking out of the bottle.
A memory flashes in my mind about Abuela catching me in this exact same position as I quickly take a carton of orange juice from the fridge and make sure no one’s around before I place it near my lips and drink it.
“That’s not very ladylike,” she scolds as she takes the orange juice out of my hand.
“That’s because she’s not a lady,” Belén says with her hands on her hips and with a smile on her face. She knew what I was up to and went and told on me.
This is what it’s been like since forever. Belén finding out that I’m doing something wrong and going out of her way to make sure I suffer the consequences for my actions.
“¿Qué?” she asks as she comes to the door, and Cristina pushes her through it.
My sister.
My twin.
The one I should want in my life forever has become the thorn that I need to take out to heal from losing Abuela.
“Where do you get off on telling my husband that I’m cheating on him? Why do you always go out of your way to hurt me?”
“Me?”
I shake my head, thinking is she delusional. Yes, her.
“Si!”
“I told you that I couldn’t have kids. Any normal person would have emphasized with me.”
I can’t believe my ears.
“You’re joking. The same person that said we had to be brought up by our grandparents because our parents had to work. And used to say when we were kids that she would never have kids if she can't have time for them. I should have shown some empathy for the one thing that you said you never wanted?”
