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Idecide to go for something simple this time. Diego didn’t say where we were going, but tonight I feel like going out as me.
One phone call. One click, and the black shirt and jeans I said I wanted to wear tonight arrived as the elevator doors opened and his contact gave it to me. We didn’t exchange words, he bowed and I did the same once it was in my hands.
Diego was still on the phone at the time, but I’m ready as I tie my hair back and he has a smile on his face.
“It looks like we both wanted a casual night tonight,” he smiles, as he tilts his head to the side.
Even in jeans and a dark shirt, he still looks hot, and I flirt—or attempt to—as I twirl and nearly faint in the process.
“Maybe going out isn’t a good idea,” he says as he tries to help me gain my balance.
“Yeah, I don’t want the memories of being here to be all bad.”
He doesn’t say what I’m hoping he will say, if anything he just nods his head in agreement.
I want him to say ‘you’re wrong, Leticia, we can come visit another time,’ or ‘this doesn’t have to be the end.’ Instead, he puts his hand at the curve of my back to lead me to the elevator, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Where are we going?” I ask, thinking like last time he’ll be keeping it a surprise. His hand doesn’t move, it’s as if it’s superglued to that space. There’s no more pinching my butt or even being a bit affectionate.
As soon as the elevator opens, he motions for me to get inside.
“We’re going to the Nezu Museum. I know you have a passion for art.”
I have a passion for you too, but that seems to have been lost somewhere along the way. Don’t tell me it’s happening all over again?
Fear creeps into me, like a thief at night, and my hands start to tremble at the idea of it.
How could such a beautiful moment which happened between us all of a sudden disappear because of one night.
“Estás bien?”
I nod. He doesn’t look convinced as his brow furrows.
“You’re acting as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
You, you’re the ghost. A former shade of the man that you used to be.
“No. I just …”
I’m trying to search for the words to describe how I’m feeling, but they’re lost and it doesn’t help that as soon as we get out of the elevator, he’s back on the phone again.
“Is no one staying here?” I pause as I stop at the reception.
I see the car parked out front and I assume as before that it’s ours. But I notice something that I didn’t notice ever before. This time as we walk through the lobby, it’s empty. It’s almost as if no one is staying at this hotel apart from us. Even the reception guys seemed to have disappeared.
He nods. “I couldn’t risk anyone being here. Not until I knew it was one hundred percent safe for you. Come on, the car’s waiting for us.”
He hangs up and motions for us to keep moving.
“Who was on the phone?”
Earlier he was speaking Spanish, so I think that he must have been speaking to his brother or abuela.
“Belén. She wants to make sure everything is ready for me when I get back. I’ve been clearing it up with her.”
A lump forms in my throat as I think about us going back to New York. Back to my sister. Back to my reality.
It plays around in my mind if I should tell him about Belén and the past. But then something stops me. As we settle into the back of the Jeep. I think about the past, and Diego may think I’m jealous of Belén and this is why I’m coming up with these things.
