by Karina Halle
Usually I got annoyed when people told me “good luck” because it sounded like I needed luck, needed help with something when I didn’t. But this time, I really did need it. I wanted to get back home and see Mateo and fall into his arms and have him bury that bad thought far, far away. I wanted him to take the burden away, to take everything away, and make me believe we had a way to get through this mess.
I decided not to tell him I was coming home early. In fact, I thought perhaps I could get home before him and make it a surprise, lay out some coffee and cookies and prepare for some soul-searching.
I took the Metro for a bit, trying to hurry, and walked quickly from the metro station to the apartment. I was about a block away, doing my best to ignore the little kicks of hurt that still swirled in my gut, that terrible feeling of dread I was convinced I could overcome.
And that’s when I saw Mateo.
He was across the street, getting out of a shiny red Audi. It wasn’t his car at all. Then I noticed the blond head of Isabel in the driver’s seat, and I realized that Mateo had driven Isabel home in her car last night.
I immediately retreated backward into the doorway of a shop, hoping the shadows would hide me, and watched the scene unfold. There was no way I wanted her to see me again; she’d probably leap out of the car and finish what she started.
Mateo walked around to her side of the car, with the same clothes on as last night, and she rolled down the window.
She said something to him. I couldn’t read her expression because she had sunglasses on.
Mateo put his right hand at her jaw, holding her intimately, like a husband would with a wife, nodding at whatever she was saying.
Then he kissed her.
Right on the lips.
A soft, sensual kiss.
And she kissed him back.
My lungs dropped to the floor, the fractures in my heart all blowing up at once, shattering every piece of me, shards slicing me from head to toe. All while my eyes stayed wide open, glued to the scene.
Finally he pulled away and smiled. But there was no time left in this universe to decipher what that smile meant, if it even meant anything.
Because I realized what that thought had meant, what it was trying to tell me, trying to get me to pay attention to.
I was watching Mateo and his wife, or soon-to-be-ex-wife, act affectionate with each other. I was watching them act like they’d been married for years, because of course they had been. I was watching this and I was dying inside, my heart stomped on and crushed, my veins full of black liquid jealousy, choking me from the inside out. I was feeling like I was never going to survive this.
And that was wrong.
Because they had a daughter together.
And me and my feelings, I was standing in the way.
I never wanted my father to leave my mother, not deep down. If there ever had been a way to spare me of all the pain I went through, I would have wanted it. Right now, I was the obstacle between Mateo and Isabel’s marriage. If there was ever a chance, even the smallest chance, that the two of them could ever get back together, I couldn’t be the one to get in the way of that.
They had a family together.
I needed to do the right thing, for everyone.
Fuck my own heart.
I had to leave Spain.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I managed to make it back to the apartment, hurrying along so that Mateo didn’t see me. I wasn’t sure how long he was spending at the car with Isabel, and I didn’t want to know. I felt as if I was going to die with each step, barely holding myself together as I got into our building. Once in the elevator, I started to keel over, holding onto the railing for dear life, trying to keep myself upright. The pain was so overwhelming I was seeing stars again.
As I fumbled with my keys and tried to stick them in the door, I kept dropping them. And then the tears started coming, streaming down my face, making me see through a watery filter. I tried to keep my sobs inside, tried to bury them deep in my chest, so determined not to lose it in the hallway. If I lost it, I would collapse right on the floor and I’d never make it inside.
Somehow the key went into the lock and the door handle turned. I burst through and immediately collapsed to my knees on the hardwood floors, not even feeling the pain that was shooting up through me. Physical pain was preferable; it could be handled. What I was feeling was being ripped apart right down the middle until there was nothing inside me but agony.
I leaned back against the door, shutting it with my back and letting the sobs tear through me. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t breathe.
I was dying.
There was nothing.
My chest was being crushed and I was dying.
Breathe, I tried to tell myself. Please breathe.
But I couldn’t. I gasped for air and only cried out instead, overcome by the pain and the sorrow and the utter destruction of my new life.
I had to say goodbye to everything. I had to go back home. I had to leave Mateo. I had to do this to us to save us.
It was over.
I screamed, loud, shrill, bloody murder. My body shook, my hands and arms shaking, my chest still twisting and turning as I tried to breathe and cry and scream at the same time. I couldn’t take this, I couldn’t go on. This was the annihilation of every soft part of me; it was brutal and swift and gory, and I was being eaten alive, made to feel it all, every cut and slice and stab, and the wound in my chest was growing bigger and bigger.
Feeling swept away by the rage and the madness, I tore my purse off my shoulder and flung it across the room.
I screamed again and collapsed onto the ground, my fingers trying to dig into the floor, to give me something to hold on to.
“Please,” I cried out loud to no one. “Please make this stop, please make this stop.” I sobbed, my cries getting caught in my mouth, in my throat, in my lungs.
I barely heard the door opening behind me, barely felt it push against my backside.
“Vera?” Mateo asked from above me, his voice breaking. “Vera, my god. Are you okay?”
He shut the door behind him and put his arms under mine, pulling me up to my feet.
I gasped and stumbled away from him, holding on to the edge of the kitchen counter to keep me up.
“Stay away from me!” I screamed.
His eyes widened in fear as he looked me up and down. “Vera, please, Estrella, please, what happened?”
“It’s over!” I yelled at him, scared at the ferocity of my voice, at the way it was coming out. I had underestimated my emotions.
“What are you talking about?” he asked with a shake of his head, coming closer.
I put my hands out to keep him back. I pinched my eyes shut, trying to stick to what I knew was right. But he didn’t stop, he came and put his arms around me, holding me tight to him. I froze, rigid, unable to touch him back.
“Please, what is over?” he asked softly. “Please talk to me.”
“Us,” I sobbed into his chest. “We’re over. I’m leaving Spain. I’m going back home.”
He tensed, standing still. I could almost hear his heart stop. “No,” he whispered. “You do not mean this.”
“I do,” I said. “I do. I have to leave you.”
“Why?” he growled. He pulled away and grabbed a hard hold of my shoulders. “Why do you have to leave me? Because of Isabel?”
“You didn’t defend me last night!” I yelled and pushed him back from me. I walked backward into the kitchen, one hand on the counter for balance. “She fucking spat on me, she hit me, and you didn’t defend me!”
“I couldn’t,” he whispered, seeming to be in shock. “Vera, please, I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could have!” I screamed, my heart shuddering violently. “You could have defended me!”
“You have no idea what I am going through!” he yelled right back, loud, his eyes burning up. “You have no idea at all. You don’t know what I have to
do to keep my chances of having Chloe Ann alive! Don’t make me choose between you two.”
I felt like I was turning to glass only to be shattered right away.
“I am not asking you anything!” I roared. “I am not that type of woman! You may all call me a whore and a homewrecker, but I would never ask the impossible of you. And you’ve already made the right choice.”
He put his hands in a steeple over his nose and mouth, trying to breathe in and out, his eyes locked on mine. So much anger, pain, and frustration in them. Finally he lifted them away and said, “You are not a whore. Isabel was upset, like we all knew she would be. I could not defend you and her at the same time.”
“I know,” I shot back. “It would explain why I just saw you kissing her.”
His face fell.
I crossed my arms. “I saw you. Just now.”
“Vera,” he said gently. “No, that isn’t what it looks like.”
I swallowed painfully. “Maybe not.”
“I am trying to keep the peace.”
“Are you leading her on?”
“No,” he said quickly, adamantly. “She knows about us, she knows the marriage is over. She agrees. But I have to play nice. Because of—”
“I know!” I yelled. “I know, I know, I know. Because of your daughter. And I fucking agree with you. I just wish I knew how fucking difficult this was going to be before I came out here, before I gave up my school and my family’s respect and my future. I gave up everything for you only to finish last!”
“You are not last,” he cried out. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. This isn’t fair or easy for me and you know it!”
“Shit?” I repeated lividly, my voice raw. “What shit am I fucking pulling? I am getting the fuck out of here and going back to a future I left behind, back to nothing.”
“You are not the only one to give everything up!” he roared at me, his voice shaking me to the bone. He stepped toward me and I backed up until I was leaning against the counter. “You can go back to school! You can go back to your country! I can never get my family back! I have lost everything!”
His face was red, the vein in his neck pulsing hard. I was speechless, trying to remember how to breathe again. His anger, his pain, had stolen my breath away.
I blinked and eked out, “I am sorry. Then perhaps you won’t notice the loss of me.” I tried to move around him but he grabbed my arm.
“No!” he seethed. “You don’t get to do this. It’s hard, it hurts, but you don’t get to leave.”
“I get to leave,” I told him, looking him in the eye, staring him down. “I get to leave because it is my choice to make. I will not be the other woman who breaks up a family anymore. The damage is done, but if I can prevent any further damage, I will. You and Chloe Ann and Isabel are a family. You should be together.”
“But you’re my family,” he cried out softly, pulling me closer to him. “Please, Vera, don’t do this to me. This can work. We just have to push through it.”
“It can’t work!” I sobbed. “You know it. Chloe Ann has to come first and she will. I don’t want to be the one to ruin her life any further.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes closed. His grip on my arm never lessened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Vera. You don’t. Just trust me that it will all work out—just hang on, please hang on. You promised you wouldn’t give up on us.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, part of me wanting to collapse into his arms and believe him, to believe that everything was going to be all right. But it would never be all right. I had to do the right thing. My own pain, my own heart, my own future and my sacrifices, they couldn’t matter. I’d always been the villain, the black sheep, the black hole. But now I finally had a chance to be the bigger person, to put someone else first.
I had to take it.
This was my karma for my entire life.
“I’m sorry, Mateo,” I whispered.
“Do you still love me?”
I shook my head. “No,” I lied. To tell him the truth would make everything that much harder.
He began to shudder, his eyes welling with tears. “You’re lying,” he managed to say, his voice cracking. “You’re lying. You love me.”
“I don’t,” I said. “And I can’t stay. I can’t stay here and do this to you and your family.”
“But you’re killing me,” he whispered in agony. He tried to pull me closer to him, but I remained as still as stone, rigid as a tree. Unyielding. I would not yield to this, I would not let my selfish heart and emotions win.
“Vera,” he went on, now a tear rolling down his cheek. I looked away, unable to handle the sight of Mateo crying. “Vera, you are my star. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I know this isn’t easy, I know you’re hurting and that I am doing things that hurt or don’t make sense to you. But you must believe me that together we can get through this. It is just a bump in the road, if we just hang on we can make it out alive with each other’s hearts intact. We will be stronger.” He wiped angrily at his eyes and swallowed hard. “Please, don’t leave. Please don’t let this be the end of us. Please just give us, give me, another chance. You are my universe and I have nothing if I don’t have you in my life. Please, Vera. I love you like I love the stars, like I love the sky, like I love the earth. I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”
His voice cracked over the last word and I could barely hold my resolve in check. He searched my eyes with his tear-filled ones and I felt like the whole idea of love was being obliterated into space, leaving a black hole behind. I never wanted to leave him, never wanted to hurt him.
But this wasn’t about what I wanted.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I am sorry, Mateo. I never wanted it to be this way. But I am not strong enough for you. This is just too fucking hard.”
I wrestled out of his grasp, steeling whatever was left of my heart, and headed down the hall to the bedroom, ready to pack.
“You don’t get to leave just because it’s hard,” he cried out angrily after me. “You don’t get to pretend you don’t love me because you think that will make it easier on us.”
But I didn’t stop to answer because there was nothing left to say. My choice was made. I locked the door behind me in case he came after me. I pulled my suitcase and backpack out of my closet and began to pack up my life once again.
My heart burned beneath the icy glaze, but it couldn’t melt it now, couldn’t break through. I wouldn’t let it.
Love, our love, had been a shooting star, burning in the darkness, unseen until it got too close, too bright and too quick to capture. It burned out, lost to the deep cold and darkness, to the brutality of space, the infinity above us and in the new emptiness inside of me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The rest of that day passed by in a blur. In some ways it went too slow—every second I spent packing was a second that terrified me, scared that I would relent, that I would go back into the living room and put my arms around Mateo and tell him I loved him, that I would fight for us, that I wouldn’t leave him.
In other ways, it went too fast. I wanted to hold on to each second that slipped through my fingers. I loved our apartment, I loved our home, I loved our city. I didn’t want to leave this life behind, even with all the hardships; I wanted to hang on to it and pray for the circumstances to change.
I wanted time to wind backward, to go back to Barcelona where we wouldn’t leave the apartment, where I would make him tell Isabel right then, or even back further, when he asked me to move to Spain. I would have told him I’d come when the divorce was final. I would have found a way to stay in Vancouver until then, I would have put up with the wrath of my mother. Anything to avoid the pain of having something so beautiful, so fragile, only to be the one to crush it with your own foot.
Eventually though, I had packed everything in the room and bathroom. The only things I needed in the living room were my laptop, my
jacket, and my purse.
Unfortunately, Mateo was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, right by them.
I stood there, the suitcase beside me, the backpack hanging off of one shoulder, stuck in quicksand.
“I need to get my computer,” I whispered.
He didn’t look up at me. “Then take it.”
Shit. He was mad. Of course he was mad, I just broke his heart at the same time I broke mine.
I put my backpack down and leaned over him, quickly snapping up my computer and my purse. I tried not to look at him but I couldn’t help it. My eyes were drawn to him as they always had been. I took in the thickness of his black hair, knowing how soft and smooth it was, how it felt to tug at it with my fingers. His striking eyebrows that were the perfect frame for his teak brown eyes.
Eyes that were now meeting mine. He had looked up in time to catch my gaze. His eyes were still dark as ever, but bloodshot and full of pain. I stared at him, lost, afraid, and yet certain that this was the last time I’d ever see him.
“I love Chloe Ann,” he said hoarsely. “And I love you. In very different yet very equal ways. Can’t you trust me? Can’t you trust that I know what is best?”
I swallowed shards of glass.
I was too afraid to trust him.
I straightened up, and finding the smallest pocket of courage, managed to give him a smile. “You are a good man, Mateo. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
He stared at me, dumbfounded now. “You are actually leaving me. I can’t believe this is happening. Did none of this mean anything to you?” he whispered harshly.
A tear rolled down my cheek. “It meant everything to me.”
I turned around and walked to the door, taking my jacket off the coat hook. It took every parcel of strength I had left in my ravaged soul to keep going, even when I heard him say, “I love you, my Estrella. Please don’t go.”
But I opened the door. And I went.
At first I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Just up and leaving Mateo and my Madrid life wasn’t as straightforward as I had assumed. If I even did assume. All I knew to do was panic and run, and I had no idea where I was running to.