by M. O. Kenyan
“Are you feeling okay? Your leg I mean.”
“It hurts sometimes.” She smiled despite the hurt that was slowly suffocating her. “Anyway, I have work—”
“It can wait.” Yvan sat next to her, his fingers twisting into each other. “Rae—” He was cut off by his ringing cellphone.
“Apparently your work can’t wait.” Rae got up, ignoring the hand Yvan offered to help her. “I just wanted to ask if you have the number of a cab I can call.”
“A driver will drop you. But—”
“I’ll wait for him outside.”
“Rae, I am really trying here.”
Rae walked away, his calls to her fading with each step she took.
* * * *
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Yvan’s words echoed in Rae’s mind all through the morning. She sat at the picnic table in the orphanage playground, watching the children as they enjoyed the ignorance of their youth. She wondered if she would ever have a baby of her own. Before she was married to Yvan she didn’t think she could find a man who could stand her stump long enough to get her pregnant. Now she knew that having a child might be close to impossible. Yvan didn’t want to be intimate with her because he couldn’t stop thinking of Rubi. Plus, he had spent their wedding night with Rubi.
Home. It was the only marital home she knew. Her home was a house without any warmth and fabricated love. It was just as fake as her marriage. Then it shouldn’t bother her, right? She didn’t know Yvan—they were more like acquaintances than anything else—so what was this shattering pain, the constant ache that plagued her heart?
It was the realization that she wasn’t going to have a happily-ever-after.
When Rae went home at the end of the day, she found Yvan waiting for her in their bedroom. “We need to talk,” he said the second her foot stepped in.
“What about?”
“There is this business trip—”
“To Madrid. Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to take me with you.” Rae looked past him, concentrating on the painting behind his head.
“I need you to know that I want us to work.”
“Kiss me.” Rae regretted the words as soon as they left her unruly mouth. However, after a second of thinking over her new rush decision, she decided it was a good idea. This was the only way to know if he was attracted to her. She didn’t know what she was doing or talking about, but all the movies and books said so. It’s in His Kiss was a song that explained it all. Cher surely knows what she’s talking about. “Kiss me,” she repeated.
Yvan cupped her cheek in his palm, and Rae felt like she would melt. Her chest heaved with anticipation. When his head lowered to hers she closed her eyes in expectation, her heart beating out of her chest. And when he kissed her, it was with an urgency that only left pain in its wake. Rae felt her heart swell with a tender ache then break like delicate glass shattered against a hard and harsh reality. Her heart broke in the desperation of his touch. She felt his need, but something stopped her from feeling his passion, something that told her that kiss wasn’t meant for her or for anyone.
Rae stepped out of his arms and away from his kiss. “I don’t see Rubi in your eyes, not anymore. You don’t want her, but that doesn’t mean you want me. Your lips are searching for something I can’t give you. Your body is looking for a familiarity that I don’t have. And your hands, your fingers…when they caress me they feel like strangers.”
“That’s because they are. I have never touched you intimately, never made love to you. And our first kiss was from a demand to prove something.” A frown of irritation pleated the skin between his soft brown eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
“You want me because I’m sweet and kind, and inside I’m everything Rubi is not. But on the outside you may still want her. Her curves, her boldness, the way she makes you feel sexually. I’m not her, Yvan, and I never will be.”
“But I don’t want you to be her. I’m just having a hard time because you look like her. You look like the person I am fighting so hard to get away from.” Yvan held her head between his hot palms. He pressed a kiss on her lips. “But I am trying. I want what only you can give me…a home, a family, and security. I know I can love you, Rae.”
“Why? Is it because you love my twin sister?”
“I don’t love Rubi. Why do you keep bringing her up?” He made no effort to close the distance between them, yet there was something in the close matching of the pace of his breathing to hers that set off alarm bells in her. “I want you. I’m a red-blooded man. How could I not want you? What I want most is to love you.”
“You can never convince your heart to love someone. It just loves,” Rae said.
“I’m just confused.”
“Then maybe you should take some time. You should go to Madrid.”
“Maybe I should.”
Rae forced herself to stay rooted at the spot. She kept staring at the painting, trying to ignore what was going on around her. But it was hard not to react as Yvan pulled out one suitcase after the other and filled them with clothes. There was a moment when she heard herself sob. Yvan heard it too and he froze for a second. Rae didn’t know how long she had been standing there, her hands at her side, a fistful of cloth in them, her teeth biting down on her lower lip, and a sob trapped in her chest.
Rae didn’t dare look up at him when he stood in front of her. A shiver of reaction moved over her and there was an aching constriction in her throat.
He kissed her cheek then said, “I will miss you.”
A whiff of his scent—a brisk, clean, soapy smell with an underlying note of maleness—crowded her senses. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she was alone in the room. Yvan was gone.
Rae’s hand rubbed her chest as a sensation she had never experienced before ripped through her heart with such force it sent her to her knee as her insides screamed Yvan’s name over and over again.
He was gone.
Chapter 5
Yvan never claimed any sensitive emotion. He wasn’t brought up in a house where people were open about how they felt inside. But leaving a seemingly stoic Rae in the middle of his bedroom crushed not only his heart but his soul as well. He wanted to go back for her, but Rae was right. He had just jumped out of a lust-controlled relationship, if he could even call it that, to wanting—no, needing—to fall in love with the best woman he had ever met. He needed a break and some time to clear his mind.
Months passed before Yvan got up the courage to contact Rae. He already knew that she had moved out of the house. How could he blame her? But he wondered where she lived now and that wasn’t information the house-help could give him. In the warmth of his Madrid office he sat down at his desk and wrote his wife an email. It didn’t scream out romantic but…baby steps.
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Hi
March 3, 2016
Hi,
Pretty lame, huh?
I know it’s been three months. I didn’t know what to say to you. I called the orphanage and asked for your email address. They wouldn’t give it to me at first, but after I offered a diamond ring in exchange for the info, they were forthcoming.
I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I am sorry for what I did. I’m a lousy husband and a rotten human being. I should have been with you that night, our wedding night. Making love to you, just as a husband and wife should. I hope you can forgive me. You probably want a divorce, but I can’t give you that. I am holding on to your light, my angel. If I let go, I will be lost. It’s selfish I know.
I hope you can find it in your sweet heart to forgive me.
P.S. I understand why you wanted me to leave.
* * * *
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Hi
March 7, 2016
Hi,
I guess you didn’t get my email, or y
ou got it and completely ignored it because you can’t forgive me. I understand.
I hope you don’t mind me filling up your inbox. You are kind of the only outlet I have.
The office here is a mess. The staff call me an ogre behind my back. I guess I have been intolerable for the past three months. I guess I’m punishing them because I can’t punish myself.
Spain is great. I’m happy to be back home. Did I tell you the last time I was here was when I was eight years old? I guess we didn’t even talk about that kind of stuff. I feel like I’m learning the language all over again. It’s incredibly intimidating not being the smartest guy in the room anymore. Sometimes I don’t know if what I’m saying is right but my staff won’t tell me. They’re too busy trying to not get their heads bitten off.
I hope to bring you here one day, maybe as our proper honeymoon, lol! The ancestral home is a castle. I stay in an apartment though. Too many old ghosts in that stone home.
Please answer my email, then maybe we could get to know each other better.
Friends?
* * * *
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Friends?
March 10, 2016
Hi,
It’s me again, your husband. I’m starting to think that maybe you aren’t getting my emails because you don’t have a computer. I have taken the liberty of ordering one for you and having it sent to the orphanage.
By the way, where are you living now? I don’t want to step on your toes, but I could get you an apartment and a car, with a chauffeur of course. Not that you can’t drive yourself.
I thought that maybe I could kick off this ‘getting to know each other thing’ in the interest of our friendship and eventually our marriage. I was born in Spain, and my father moved us to the United States when I was eight. He wanted to break into the American market and move away from his father’s dictatorial rule. I’m such an idiot, you probably don’t know what your husband does for a living. I’m the president of a group of companies—manufacturing, real estate, construction, import and export, and banking. The D’Alessandro’s are jacks of all trades.
In Spain, I am at one of our manufacturing companies. We are transitioning to machines and not human labor. People aren’t taking it too well, but it increases productivity and there is a reduction of injuries. So I’m trying to find the nonessential workers other places to work. It’s taken me three months but I think I’m making headway.
My hobbies... I like sports, soccer especially. I love Spanish music, I think it’s romantic. Women used to be my hobby, I love sex, but that’s changed now that I’m a married man. I hope you don’t think I’m being unfaithful. Right now I’m just trying to make sense of this mess that I have created.
I have to go back to work now. Email me back. Tell me something about yourself.
Your friend.
P.S. I am learning my Spanish. Te estrańo mucho.
* * * *
Rae stared at Yvan’s email just as she had done the others. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to email him back, just that she didn’t know what to say. They had left things at a strange place, and when he hadn’t contacted her for so long, she thought he might have forgotten about her. Obviously he hadn’t, and it was now she who kept him waiting. Now she knew what to say to him. They needed to get to know each other. That’s where they should have started all those months ago.
From: R. Santos
To: Y.R. D’Alessandro
Subject: Friends
March 14, 2016
Hi,
Thank you for the computer. I didn’t know what to say to you, that’s why I didn’t respond. Thank you for ‘donating’ the ring. It’s helping a lot here at the orphanage.
I’m glad you are doing well.
I speak Spanish. My father was Cuban. I guess you probably already knew that.
My middle name is Angelina. I’m twenty-six years old. I was born in Los Angeles.
I hope work isn’t stressing you too much. I’m staying at the orphanage. I don’t need a car, because I never leave the orphanage. I also don’t know how to drive.
I’m happy.
Bye.
P.S. I think being friends would be great.
* * * *
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Friends
March 14, 2016
Hi,
I can’t believe you answered. I keep reading your email over and over again. It’s put a smile on my face. I can’t believe I didn’t know how old you were or your middle name.
I’m glad you’re doing well. Work is all right. My assistant left a book on my desk: Eat, Love, Pray. I haven’t read it, but I went on the internet and read up on it. I get the message my assistant is trying to pass my way. She’s sixty, by the way, so there is nothing going on there. I know you’re going to think that I don’t owe you an explanation, but I do. You are my wife. The day I married you I stopped being accountable just to myself. I realize that now.
I’m going to do it—the Eat, Love, Pray thing. I hope that I’ll become a better man. I’ll just visit the sites and leave all and any sexual activities out. Maybe at the end of it, we’ll be better friends and I can come home.
I want us to work our marriage out. You’re probably wondering why I’m insisting. I can’t tell you why because I’m not sure myself. It’s not the family rule that’s holding me back. If you wanted a divorce, I would give it to you, free and clear, but something in my heart tells me that I can’t live without you.
I’ll let you know when I leave.
* * * *
From: R. Santos
To: Y.R. D’Alessandro
Subject: Friends
March 16, 2016
Hi,
I read that book. I think it’s important that you do the journey for yourself. Don’t think about anyone else but yourself. It’s good to be selfish once in a while.
I’m not asking for a divorce, because I sort of need you in my life too.
I wanted to tell you about my day, if that’s okay.
It was raining like crazy. One of the kids ran outside, he wanted to taste the rain. I followed behind him. I ended up falling in a mud puddle. It was so funny. The other kids came out and we started playing in the mud. Now half of them have the sniffles, including me. I hope none of them get a fever or anything.
* * * *
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Friends
Marc 16, 2016
Mi Angelita,
That’s so funny. I wish I was there to see it. Did you get any pictures?
I’m leaving for Tibet this weekend. I’ll email you every day, even if it’s just to say good morning and sweet dreams. I don’t know where I’m going next but it’s exciting not having plans.
I’m happy to know that you need me too.
* * * *
From: R. Santos
To: Y.R. D’Alessandro
Subject: Friends
March 18, 2016
Hi,
Tibet! How exciting. I’ve always wanted to go there. I hope you have a good time.
I will be awaiting your emails with bated breath. Dramatic I know. Stay safe, and when you are done with your journey of self-discovery, you can come home.
PS. I miss you.
* * * *
From: Y.R. D’Alessandro
To: R. Santos
Subject: Mrs. D’Alessandro
March 18, 2016
Mi Angelita,
I’m your best friend now? That’s great, because you are also my best friend, but I hope we will soon get to the husband and wife part of our relationship.
I’ll be leaving for the airport shortly. I’m excited and terrified at the same time. I wish you were here with me. Don’t worry, we’ll take a tour of the world soon, just you and me.
Wish me luck.
Love,
Your bestie
* * * *
To: Y.R. D’Alessandro
From: R. Santos
Subject: Mrs. D’Alessandro
March 19, 2016
Good luck!
* * * *
Eight months later
Yvan sat at his desk. He had just come back from his trip sporting a new beard and a new attitude. However, that didn’t stop him from being absolutely terrified about going back home, back to Rae. They had established a relationship, sure, but it was a cyber one. But people had been known to fall in love with their pen-pals, and Yvan hoped that was the case for Rae. Although that would be unfair. Yvan couldn’t say that he was in love with Rae, not yet. But he loved her. In his mind and his heart there was a huge difference. The only similarity was that he was definitely going to spend the rest of his life with Rae. On his trip to India he had learned about building love. And now that he and Rae had a clean slate, he knew they could definitely fall in love with each other.
“My friend!”
Yvan looked up and saw Gabriel leaning against his office door with an easy smile on his face. The man always looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. A complete irony to how hectic his life actually was. But Gabriel believed in no stress, and in taking things easy. You only have one life to live, he’d said repeatedly to Yvan.
“You are the only man I know who has a frown on their face before going to see a woman he has been messaging for months.”
“I didn’t sleep well.” Yvan had been trying to shake off his nightmare about Rubi and not see it as a bad omen.
“The diabla in the red dress.” Gabriel nodded as if he understood.