Leaving Me Behind

by Sigal Ehrlich

  By dessert, the fizz over my news progressively subsides and our usual conversation turns full gear. Stephy pops a raspberry into her mouth; an ornament of the delicious Crema Catalana, Vivian’s signature dessert. She chews on it in a pensive air.

  “I had one of those mid-shower eureka moments earlier today.” With such a preface, we all turn her way. “I came to the conclusion that women are such hypocrites.”

  “Excusez-moi?” Dominique’s nosy tenor question verbalizes what I believe is our combined thoughts.

  “Okay, let me ask you something before I tell you all about my revelation,” Stephy says. I shrug and turn to crack the burned sugar crust of my creamy dessert. “Appearance wise, what attracts you most to a man?”

  “Easy, height,” Alma says, bringing a spoon to her mouth, which ends with a tiny moan.

  “I agree, height. Love the feeling of having someone wrap me in his arms completely,” Stephy adds.

  “Eyes,” Vivian says.

  “Height,” Dominique contributes to the discussion.

  “For me,” I linger on the thought. “I think the strength they exude.”

  “Doesn’t count, it should be an actual physical feature,” Stephy chides.

  “So I guess, me too, height.”

  “Uh!” Stephy says with vigor. “Would any of you disqualify someone just because he was short?” She pauses, letting us process her question. Not waiting for our replies, Stephy goes on. “I was on a date with this nice guy yesterday, Enrique. I thought we sort of hit it off. And just before we were about to say good night, where I thought he might kiss me, he thanked me instead and told me he probably wouldn’t call me.”

  Everyone’s brows crease in stereo.

  “He said that though he thought I was sweet, he couldn’t date me because he dated only skinny women. Ladies, let me tell you. I was flabbergasted.”

  “Asshole,” Alma grunts.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Stephy corrects in a knowing voice. “At first, I thought he was. I was actually so riled up before going to sleep, I was about to boycott the entire male species. But after a long night’s sleep, the eureka moment came. He was just being honest.” She shrugs. “And I realized just how much of a hypocrite most of us are. If a guy says something like that we scream sexism and are ready to take to the streets carrying signs and pitchforks. However, it’s more than okay for us to only date tall guys, right?” Seeing there aren’t any counter arguments coming from our side, Stephy just smiles at us, really saying “you see, I’m right.”

  Dominique and I stay after everyone leaves, including the last patrons, to help Vivian close up. Swiping a cloth over the last table, I turn to Vivian, who labors on reassembling the clean parts of the coffee machine. “Are you feeling well, Vivian?”

  Dominique braces her elbows to the counter and eyes us both.

  “I’m just a bit tired and stressed. The café is doing great, and I shouldn’t complain, but it is a lot of hassle running it.”

  “Can we help somehow?” Dominique asks, beating me to it.

  “Thank you, queridas, but it’s just a phase. Nothing to worry about, it’ll pass. Don’t you worry about me.”

  We continue with the last tasks to close for the night when Vivian breaks the comfortable silence. “Liv, have you thought about what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask as both Dominique and I turn her way.

  “I know you still have a few months till the year is over but have you thought what you’ll do next? Will you extend your stay? Are you planning to go back? Now that you have something, excuse me, someone else, to consider.”

  Her questions catch me off guard. My friends gaze at me in silence, waiting.

  “I have no idea,” floats out of my lips on a breath, a product of a momentary haze. An answer that carries along a multitude of questions I’ve tried not to entertain lately because I’m afraid of where the answers may lead me. Places I’m not sure I’m ready to go.

  Chapter 22

  “Sin Miedo a Nada”

  Alex Ubago and Amaia Montero

  “You have such beautiful eyes,” says the man sitting on the bar stool next to me, twirling the dark drink in his sturdy tumbler in circular motions. The guy is in a full-on flirtatious mode, pulling all possible shticks men believe will get a woman to go home with them. I have to give it to him for trying, though, he definitely falls into the category of a charmer, and what’s more, he is far from being an unpleasant sight to feast your eyes upon. Although, even with said merits under his belt, he has nothing on the man I’m actually waiting for.

  Sebastian and I had planned to meet in this charming tapas bar. A little gem hidden in one of the side alleys in the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona. I check my watch and my heart semi-teeters; Sebastian’s flight should have landed almost over an hour ago, which means he should be here any minute.

  “How long are you in town for?” asks my courter, inching closer.

  “For the weekend.” Nonchalantly, I take a taste of my light Sangria.

  “I’d love to show you around.” To which follows a suggestive grin.

  “Perdón Miss, is this seat taken?” A voice that evokes all kinds of whirls in my belly asks. We both regard the orator, me and the guy next to me. In an attire composed of dark jeans, a blue gingham shirt, and a camel blazer, casual-style personified, Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

  “Um, no. Please, go ahead.” I send him a coquettish beam.

  He leans his hip onto the high chair, gazing at me. “Una caña, por favor,” Sebastian orders from the bartender, eyes never leaving mine. I return his stare with a hint of a smile, waiting to see where he is going with his “strangers” play. He reaches for my hand and takes it in his. From the corner of my eye, I notice the clasp of my suitor’s brows.

  “Nice to meet you, my name is Sebastian Noé Balle,” he says and brings my hand to his mouth, lingering the press of his lips on my skin till the guy next to me coughs in evident disapproval. “What’s your name?” He looks up at me from under his lashes.

  “Is that even your real name or did you just make it up?” I say with a cheeky air, pulling my hand back.

  Sebastian tilts his head back with a chuckle. “No, beautiful, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it’s the name my parents gave me.”

  “Well, if this is your real name,” I enunciate real name. “Then my name would be Miss Lust.”

  Sebastian’s smile tips higher.

  “Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something here,” the guy next to me says with an annoyed bite.

  Sebastian’s eyes bore into mine. “Why don’t we let Miss Lust decide who she’d like to talk to?”

  I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms over my chest.

  “I bet if you see what I have in my pants, then you’d want to have your drink with me,” Sebastian adds.

  The guy to my left clenches his jaw, eyeing Sebastian with utter hostility.

  “Is that so?” I cock an eyebrow, biting on my smile.

  “Yeah, and I’m sure you’d want it in your mouth.” Sebastian’s tongue grazes his front teeth.

  “Miss, would you like me to have him thrown out of here?” the gentleman at my side growls.

  “No, thank you.” I lift my hand, in an it’s okay gesture. “I think I can handle this one by myself,” I say, not tearing my stare from Sebastian’s, loving the little mischievous grin he has playing on his lips. “I’d want it in my mouth, you say?” I slowly lick my lips.

  “Yeah.” Sebastian’s hand moves to rest on my thigh as he leans in closer as though he is about to tell me a secret. “And once you have it, you’ll be begging for more.”

  Overtly, I drop my eyes to Sebastian’s crotch. “Um, will it fit in my mouth?”

  “You’ll have to open wide for me.”

  The guy at my side downs his drink and asks for another, watching our little play in sheer astonishment.

  “So, can you close your eyes now and open wide for me? As wide as you can.�
��

  I lean forward, prop my arms on Sebastian’s knees for support, close my eyes, tip my head back, and open my mouth. After a beat in which I sense Sebastian reach inside his pocket, I hear a soft crackling of a wrapper and soon after a sweet square is placed on my waiting tongue. I suck on the sweet goodness with exaggerated pleasure noises and slowly open my eyes to Sebastian, who greets me with a wink.

  “So? Will you be joining me on my boat?”

  “I’d join you anywhere you ask as long as there’s more chocolate,” I say and wrap my arms around his neck.

  Sebastian tips his head to the side, looking at the guy next to me. “Never underestimate the power of chocolate, hombre.”

  “I missed you.” He plants a kiss on my smile next and our unhappy spectator grunts with a headshake.

  . . .

  “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day, not that I’d mind staying here just like this for the rest of the weekend.” I flutter my lips over Sebastian’s bare chest, where my head is resting as we both indulge in the after bliss of our lovemaking. A long session that started at the boat’s threshold then moved on to the small dining table, continued in the shower, and ended on the bedroom’s queen size bed.

  “Do you know La Orja De Van Gogh?” he asks.

  “Of course. Love them. They are my favorite Spanish band.”

  “I got us tickets for their concert tonight.”

  “Are you serious? How? Aren’t they usually sold out within the first week?”

  “Let’s just say I know a guy who knows a guy.” A naughty smile twists his lips.

  I snicker, putting on a whole show of rolling my eyes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I find myself with my hands pinned above my head under Sebastian.

  “What?” I ask through a giggle. “You’re so lame. I know a guy.” I imitate his voice.

  “Lame, eh?” His thigh spreads my legs apart. My giggles gradually dissolve into his mouth.

  . . .

  “You’re so beautiful,” Sebastian says, the tender undertone in his eyes backing his words.

  “Stop doing that,” I tease.

  “Doing what?” He takes a step toward me, where we meet on the deck, ready to go to the concert. Well rested and changed into casual jeans, we stand facing each other.

  “Stop putting me on a pedestal. For the life of me, I’m not sure why you think I belong there. I’m afraid it’s so high up that I’ll eventually fall down flat on my medium-size ass.”

  His eyes lit in subtle danger. “I can’t believe you sometimes. It’s not a pedestal, Liv, it’s exactly how I see you. Smart, and beautiful, and funny, and incredibly sexy. Maybe it’s time you paid a visit to a mirror and took a careful look; see all the things I see, the ones you seem to be missing.”

  And that’s the first time he makes my heart severely twinge tonight. I doubt I would survive a second one; the feeling is so intense.

  Thoughts entwining with thoughts make me freeze in my spot as we are about to enter the concert hall. I’m pushed, almost losing my balance, by people streaming in on either side of us, jostling their way in. Fragments from when Sebastian told me about Lola and him, snippets of the way he looks at me, Vivian’s questions the other night, and my impending return home all mesh in my head at once. Sebastian, who’s a step ahead, turns to search for me.

  “Liv?” He hurries my way.

  For an expanse of two beats, I just look at him, and all of a sudden, it dawns on me. I’ve developed such strong feelings for him. The revelation leaves me startled, maybe even frightened.

  Abruptly, another group passing us to get in flings me forward to crash on his chest. Sebastian catches me, pulling me closer against him.

  “Are you okay?” He tilts his head back to look at me.

  I nod.

  “Don’t worry.” He smiles. “It’s just a concert, nothing too special. You won’t fall in love with me tonight. I won’t let you.” His smile turns sinful. “I promise.”

  I know it’s his way of trying to lighten my mood, but I can’t help but allow his words to seep in with a resilient effect. I inwardly shake off my muddle.

  “You promise?” I return his smile.

  “Promise,” he says and kisses my forehead.

  The tunes beat all the way inside of me. It’s a magnificent duet of the band singing together with more than a thousand people as their choir. Multicolor clusters of light spot the crowd and return to the band. Sebastian’s arms hold my waist and slide to hug me as I lean my back against his chest. We move to the rhythm amid people singing and dancing to the music. The lead singer tilts her mic toward the crowd and a chorus of voices fills the enormous concert hall. Songs soften into one another, coloring the hall in easier tones. Sebastian moves his hand under my shirt, stroking my belly, making my features mellow into contentment. I lift his free hand and bring it to my lips, pressing light, supple kisses on his skin. He dips his face to kiss the base of my neck. I close my eyes, resting the back of my head on his chest, indulging in the feel of him wrapping me in his arms, and the music playing in the background.

  I open my eyes when the music winds down and the lead singer thanks everyone for being here this evening. “We have a surprise for you,” she announces.

  The mass of people roar and she sends an airy kiss our way. “We have a special guest with us tonight,” she says and a new wave of cheers and whistles erupts. Next, the heavy lights weaken into a subtle halo on the stage and easy tunes funnel the dimmed space. When a guy carrying a silver mic makes his way from the back to the center of the stage, the crowd goes wild. The new addition to the group kisses the lead singer on the cheek and nods at the rest of the band.

  He turns to the audience. “Buenas noches, Barcelona!”

  Roars, claps, and whistles come as a response. He smiles at the blond singer, takes her hand in his, and with his other brings the mic to his mouth. He sways for a few more piano tunes and starts.

  I crane my neck to look up at Sebastian over my shoulder. He dips his head for my mouth to reach his ear. “I love this song,” I say.

  He nods, his eyes beaming at me.

  His hand on my stomach moves to my waist, and he turns me to face him. I wrap my arms around his waist and smile at him. His liquid brown eyes blaze at me as he brings his hands to hold my face. Shielding my sight to see just him, he leans in, his lips close to mine, our faces framed by his large hands, and he softly presses a kiss to my lips.

  “I’m dying to hear you say the things that you never say,” he translates the song for me. The lyrics trickle down to the very depth of me. Another soft kiss covers my lips, and he continues. “How long are we going to wait?” Our next kiss is longer; our lips wrap around each other and retrieve for a softer touch. “I’m dying to know you, to know what’s on your mind.” The weight of the words, the timbre of his voice together with the tender air in his eyes makes my chest squeeze tight, in sweet aching. I slide my hands under his shirt, caressing the warm skin of his back with the tips of my fingers and inch on the heels of my feet to reach his lips once more. The whirlwind of emotions playing inside of me is guiding my tongue as I taste him. We ease off, staring into each other’s eyes.

  You know that moment, that tiny moment that when it happens, it becomes so clear? The moment your heart expands to an impossible size and embraces the person in front of you to its very core. Wraps him in so tight it hurts. My heart just did that.

  “I’m dying to explain to you what goes on in my mind.” Sebastian continues to translate the song for me. The tune wrapping us escalates gradually, intensifying the heat of the music. Both singers on stage reach the chorus in magnificent harmony, stretching their voices to a larger-than-life climax. And we find ourselves lost in our own bubble, embracing each other closer, our mouths uniting into a heated fusion.

  In his embrace, in a cloud of his scent, with the taste of his lips, everything around us drowns. I sense nothing but him. And it’s pow
erful, and it’s taking over every part of me. I’m dissolving into him and he into me.

  Songs begin and end, the show around us carries on while we are in our own world of two. We don’t let go of each other till the second encore winds down and the last keys are played.

  My chest feels heavier. It feels like my heart is lodging in my throat when I look into Sebastian’s eyes as we make our way out to the night. Something has changed, something that causes mayhem inside of me. Inwardly, I whisper, “Liar, you promised I wouldn’t fall for you tonight . . .”

  . . .

  The next day, Sebastian plays the part of a tour guide to a T. However, over coffee and fruits on the sunbathed deck, he tells me there won’t be any banal touristic monuments included in our tour. “Except for a few of Gaudi’s more known works, which are a must, as they make the Barcelonian landscape what it is. Besides that, you’ll see the city and its real beauty as we, the locals, do.”

  And he holds on to his promise and so much more. Making this day one of the best days I’ve ever had. Sebastian takes us to unique, hidden places that just make me fall deeper for the city . . . and him. A small tapas bar with delicious food that caters to less than ten people and even then is not very spacious, yet feels homey. A couple of Gaudi’s hidden treasures located on random streets. A tiny café with the best churros I’ve tasted thus far (sorry, Vivian). And we end the day with the spectacular – Magic Fountain of Montjuïc, a beautiful display of color, light, motion, music, and water acrobatics. Only we don’t admire it with the crowds assembled at its feet. I get to watch its magnificence enveloped in Sebastian’s embrace as we lie on a wooly blanket in one of the close by play gardens.

  Chapter 23

  “You Could Be Happy”

  Snow Patrol

  “I feel different,” I told Dr. Schmurtaz. “And it’s not about how he makes me feel; it’s about how I finally let myself feel.”