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“¡Eres un cabron!3” She narrows her eyes at me and then folds her arms.
Now, I realize what’s on her dress, the brown thing in the middle isn’t a stain or even part of the design, but it’s shit.
“How?”
“Some kid next to me was sick, but oh he didn’t vomit. He …”
She covers her mouth and then shakes her head. I don’t even want to know how it happened, but my stomach twists in knots at the thought of her having to go through this.
“I went to the bathroom and used as much soap to try and get off the smell. It won’t go. Anyone that comes near me does what you do with your nose—holds it, or just walks away quickly.”
I hope it just happened on her last flight. I motion for her to keep walking. People are looking, and luckily, we’re in Japan, where they are a little more polite than they would be in Spain.
“I’ve been smelling like this for two flights. The last lady asked to change seats. I couldn’t believe that after ten hours, I still smelled like—”
“Mierda.4” I fill the gap in for her. She narrows her eyes at me, and I know this isn’t the time for games.
“Stay here,” I say as we’re just outside a boutique.
She crosses her arms and waits outside. I hop in and hurry around, trying to find something for her to change into. As soon as I come out of the boutique, I hand her the bag. She grabs it.
“I thought Raúl gave you money.”
She starts to sob as I hand her the bag. “He did, and I think I left it in the taxi. The first one I took in New York. Because when I touched down in London, I couldn’t find it. Silly me. I hope you’re having a good laugh.”
I shake my head, feeling sorry for her. Yes, I wanted to teach her a lesson, but not to make her feel like this.
Then again, what did I expect her to do? Come through the airport with loving arms after I put her through three flights over twenty-four hours to get here, when she could have sat in the jet with me?
No.
I bite back the cringe that wants to work its way to my face as I think about how I’ve punished her just for my ego.
“They have showers here. You can freshen up before the ride.”
I could take her in the car, but I’d want to change seats too. She smells bad. Real bad.
I recall an old Chinese proverb that says if you go for revenge, then you better be prepared to dig two graves. Now I can understand the meaning behind that proverb.
I wait for her to come out of the bathroom like an expectant father waiting for news about their unborn child. So many emotions run through my head as I put my hand through myhair. And then she rushes out with wet hair, and I wonder what else on her is wet.
“I didn’t want to take long in case you leave me again.”
I shake my head. “No. I wouldn’t do that.” She raises an eyebrow. “Again.”
“I don’t know. Why can’t I be more like Belén? She wouldn’t have been trying to calm the mother, let alone the baby. She would have asked theazfata5 to move her.”
“The air stewardess,” I correct her. She throws a look at me. The memory of me saying that she can barely speak English is clearly still fresh in her mind.
“Anyway, they say nothing good ever happens to nice people. I should know. People like Belén get to marry billionaires and get degrees and have a fantastic life.”
“Well, in this case, you did get to marry me. Not her.”
I don’t even want her to ask if she has spoken to her sister. I haven’t. The last time I did was at our wedding. Belén gave me her sister as if she was doing me a favor, and it annoyed me so much that the last thing I wanted to do was stay in contact with her. Belén’s explanation has no merit. The idea of her not wanting to marry me makes me feel something that I can’t quite comprehend, but I know one thing for sure. I don’t like it.
“Yes, by accident. And if your brother was around, I would have married you and Belén him. Anyway, what really happened to him?”
“He had a skiing accident.”
