355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Karina Halle » Love, in English » Текст книги (страница 18)
Love, in English
  • Текст добавлен: 16 октября 2016, 22:57

Текст книги "Love, in English"


Автор книги: Karina Halle



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-One

Exactly seven weeks after Mateo and I parted on that tear-soaked street in Madrid, I got a phone call that would change my life.

It was 3:30 a.m. when my phone rang, jolting me out of a dreamless sleep. I grabbed my phone and peered at the screen. It was Mateo.

My heart lurched, my thoughts immediately thinking that something had to be terribly wrong for him to call me in the middle of the night. I had no idea what time it was in Spain, but he had to have known I’d be sleeping.

“Hello, Mateo?” I whispered frantically into the phone, not wanting to wake the house.

“Vera,” he said thickly. My skin prickled with the familiar sound of his voice. Because of one thing or another, I hadn’t spoken to him on the phone for a few days, with only a few texts passing between us.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I…I think so.”

I sat up and swallowed hard. “You don’t sound okay.”

“It’s just that…” he trailed off. The silence felt miles wide.

“What?”

“I filed for divorce today.”

I put my hand to my chest, to make sure my heart was still there. “What?” I cried softly. I was floored, stunned, my brain was short-circuiting. “I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t working. We all knew that. She knew that.”

“Holy shit,” I swore. “Sorry. I’m just…I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say. Was she…upset?”

“Of course,” he said simply. “She doesn’t want a divorce at all, but I cannot force myself to love her. I think deep down, she does not love me either. That this has been this way for years because of Chloe Ann.”

Shit. This was so real.

“When will you…when will it be final?” I asked softly.

“That, I do not know. It all depends. She agreed to it. However, I did not agree to the judge’s ruling about joint custody.”

“They see you as an unfit parent?” If I knew anything it was how much Mateo loved his daughter.

“Not at all. But in Spain, the mother always gets custody. You have to appeal for joint. I would let her have full, but I don’t particularly trust her when it comes to visitation rights. She could take my daughter away from me and I’d never see her. I’ve seen that happen to a few friends of mine and I couldn’t bear that.”

This was so heavy. I was too young to know anyone who had gotten divorced, and I had no idea how any of it worked. For a second there, my age started to weigh on me. But there were bigger things to worry about. This was Mateo’s burden and I had to be there for him, as much as I feared I had something to do with it.

“Do you have to pay alimony to Isabel?”

“No,” he said. “Because she had money coming into the marriage. The judge only forces alimony payments if the other party is clearly disadvantaged economically. I am sure it pains Isabel to not get a dime from me, but her parents and lineage will take care of her, perhaps better than I can. But for Chloe Ann, I will pay more than I should. I will give her as much as I possibly can.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, feeling pained for him. “I can only imagine how hard this is going to be.”

“Do not be sorry,” he said. “Yes, it will be hard. But I will fight. I have faith this will work out. I want this, Vera. And I want you.”

The blood in my veins slowed to a whoosh.

“You didn’t do this for me,” I croaked, a statement, not a question. “Please tell me you didn’t do this for me.”

“My Estrella,” he said. “I did this for me. Even if you don’t agree to what I’m about to ask of you, I know it had to be done. Eight years is a long time to be unhappy.”

Now my breaths were slowing, catching in my throat on the way out. “What are you going to ask me?”

“Come live with me.”

There was an undercurrent of desperation in his voice that reached down into my heart, opened the steel gates, and let loose the butterflies. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the feeling, that this man loved me, wanted me so much.

But one by one, the butterflies fell. And my heart closed up again.

“I can’t,” I managed to say. “You know I can’t.”

“I’ll fly you out here. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

“My school,” I said. “My degree. I can’t just quit school now. I have one more year.”

Silence made the room a wasteland.

“Maybe in a year,” I went on, grasping for something.

“No,” he said adamantly. “I cannot wait a year. In a year you could become someone else’s star. I can’t let that happen. You belong to me and only to me.”

“I’ll wait for you,” I said feebly, feeling like I was living a World War II film.

“You’re twenty-three years old,” he said gruffly. “I would never ask you to wait for me. Vera, I need you. I love you. I want you here, now, tonight if I could have you.”

My fingers curled into fists above my chest, feeling the squeeze. God, I wanted him so much, just to be in his arms, to feel his heart against mine, to kiss his beautiful face. Oh fuck, this was killing me fucking slowly. All this time, every day since we parted, I was slowly being drained of life.

“Maybe you could come here?” I said, willing the tears to stay away. “You could open up a new restaurant…”

“You know I would in a heartbeat,” he assured me. “But I will not leave my daughter, and I would not be able to take her with me. I have to stay in Spain. In Madrid.” I heard him swallow over the phone. “You’d love Madrid, Vera,” he said quietly. “You could find a job if you wanted to or I would take care of you. We could create that universe. It would be so beautiful. Please. Please, just think about it.”

I had no choice but to think about it. The love of my life just asked me to move to Spain to be with him. It was all I would be able to think about until the day I died.

“Mateo, I love you,” I told him. “Please know that.”

“I know that,” he said. “And I don’t want you to love me from afar. I want you to love me, right here, in my arms.”

The butterflies stirred again, their wings brushing my ribs, leaving a trail of champagne bubbles in their wake. This damn man. This lovely, beautiful, passionate man. He was instilling me with hope all over again, that dangerous, ruthless thing.

“Don’t give up on us,” he whispered, fueling the flames. “I haven’t.”

“I’ll call you soon,” I said when I found my voice. “Adios.”

The line clicked dead. My room was as silent as a tomb. I was all alone again, but this time I had that burden of hope, a box of butterflies and chaos in the corner.

Waiting to be opened.

* * *

The next morning I got up early and went down the hall to talk to Josh. I wanted to catch him before he went to work. The truth was, I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep after Mateo’s call, and I spent the rest of the night going over pros and cons lists in my mind. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering it.

“Josh?” I said, knocking gently with one hand on the knob. “Are you awake?”

I heard him grumble through the door. My mom was in her room, getting ready for her day, and I wanted this to remain completely private. I took a chance and opened it a crack, peeking my head in. To my surprise it didn’t reek like weed as it normally did.

He opened the door, squinting at me with one eye open, his hair a mess on his head.

“It’s called sleeping in, Vera,” he groused.

“Are you decent?”

“I have clothes on if that’s what you mean.”

“I need to talk to you,” I said. He took one look at my face and gave me a grave nod.

“Okay,” he said, letting me in.

I closed the door behind him and cleared off his desk chair that had a stack of porn on it. I frowned, picking a magazine up and waving it at him. “People still buy these? I mean, the internet is full of porn. Free porn.”

He sat down on his bed and shrugged. “I’m old-fashioned, what can I say?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ew.”

“So what is it? I’m guessing you didn’t come here to discuss Hustler with your brother.”

I grimaced. “No, I certainly did not, you fucking weirdo.” I sighed, realizing I was stalling. “So…Mateo is getting a divorce.”

His eyes bugged out. “No shit.”

“No shit at all,” I said. “He called me last night to tell me.”

“Damn. Well…I suppose that’s good, right? I think so. He called it off, did the right thing. No more lies.”

“Yeah, but how is his daughter going to handle it? Look at how I turned out.”

“I think a divorce when you’re a kid is a lot easier to handle than a divorce when you’re a teenager. You were thirteen. I think you handled it way worse than I did, and I was eleven.”

“It’s my fault.”

He frowned and gave me a wry smile. “Vera, you’re not quite off the hook, but I wouldn’t go around calling you a homewrecker either. It just happened this way. Obviously he was unhappy. Fuck, isn’t it better to be happy than not?”

“But at what cost?”

“Look, Vera, I know you want to victimize yourself here and all that, but honestly, this is for the best. You know it, and knowing it does not make you a bad person. Shit, there are worse people out there in the world, doing hurtful, spiteful things. You just fell in love with each other at a very messy time. It’s life. It happens. Mateo never set out to fall in love, to hurt his wife, to get a divorce. You never intended any of that to happen either. You aren’t some femme fatale from one of your noir films, prowling on married men. Give yourself a bit of a break here. This is a good thing.”

I cleared my throat. “He asked me to live with him.”

Now he was stunned. “Sorry, what?”

“He asked me to come live with him in Madrid. Now.”

He laughed dryly. “Well, you can’t.”

“I know.”

“You have school.”

“I know.”

“You have no way of getting there.”

“He would fly me out.”

He bit his lip and nodded. “I see.”

“Yeah.”

We lapsed into thick silence, both of us wrestling with the same question.

“So,” he said, “are you going to tell him no?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Vera…”

“I’m not telling him yes either. I just…I need to talk about it. I need to work through it.”

“Well, I can help you work through it. The main reason you can’t go is because you have school. Why not wait until you’ve graduated?”

“I don’t want to wait,” I said. “Waiting drowns me.”

“So dramatic.”

I waved my arms in the air. “What is the point of me staying here? I’d go to school and I’d hate every minute of it. Yeah, I want to finish my degree, but Madrid has programs too. I’m just…I feel like if I don’t act now, what we had is going to totally disappear and I can’t lose that.”

“I guess if you can’t be reckless and adventurous at twenty-three, when can you?” he mused.

I nodded. “I’m not worried about school. What’s an extra year? I know myself. I know I’ll get my degree somehow. That’s not the issue.”

“What is the issue then?”

“I’d be giving up a lot on uncertainty. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then you come back home.”

“But…” I could barely think about it. “I don’t think I’d survive it.” I caught a look in his eyes. “And don’t tell me I’m dramatic. I have no idea if our relationship is strong enough to handle me going all the way over there and trying to start a new life with him. I’d have nobody except him.”

“What about your friend Claudia?”

I breathed out through my nose. “Yes. Thank god. But even so, it wouldn’t be the same thing. What if the relationships I made at Las Palabras were only meant to survive right there in that bubble? What if they don’t stand a chance outside of that world?”

He ran a hand through his hair, making his bedhead worse. “Look, Vera. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you. Obviously your relationship is strong enough to get this far. And long distance, that’s the fucking worst. I will be here for you no matter what you choose. I just want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?” I looked at him curiously.

“If you do decide to stay here, please stop crying and moping around about him.”

“But if I stay here, that’s all I’ll do.”

“Then you have your answer.”

Shit. Fucking Josh, when did he get so damn smart? He was right. As frightened as I was about taking a chance on uncertainty, a risk on love, shit, moving to another fucking country for a guy, I knew this was the best solution to the life I was living. If I told Mateo no, I would break my own heart and I would break his. I would be miserable for a very long time and I would spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake.

I did not want to live a life with regrets. You only regretted the shit you didn’t do. That’s what I told myself when I signed up for Las Palabras in the first place. I didn’t want to be thirty, married to some dude and thinking back to how different my life could have been if I had just followed my heart.

Because my heart, as abused as it had been lately, was beating to the pulse of Spain.

I took a deep breath and got up. “Well, I guess I’m going to Spain.”

Josh smiled. “And I guess I’m going to lose my fucking sister again.”

I pouted, despite the butterflies that were taking flight and filling me with excitement. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m just joking,” he said. “Maybe I’ll come visit someday.”

“He does have a sister who’s twenty-five.”

“Oh, older women, my favorite,” he said wryly.

I picked up a porno and threw it at him.

He laughed and picked it up. He stared at it blankly for a moment before he put it aside and looked back up at me. “When are you going to tell Mom?”

Oh, god.

Why the hell did I think I could just jet off to Madrid and not tell my mother about it?

Oh, fuck. She was going to kill me.

I couldn’t move. Josh got up and put his hand on my shoulder. “Hey. Let me know when you tell her and I’ll back you up, okay? Now get out of here so I can go back to sleep.”

I nodded weakly and left his room. I could hear my mother in her room down the hall. This was not going to be easy, and it was not going to be fun. I decided I better tell Mateo and get the plane ticket all squared away before I had that conversation with her. She had paid for my tuition already, so it was going to be extra tricky to reason with her when she had so much at stake.

In the end, I had more at stake. I just had to get her to see that.

* * *

Things moved fast. As soon as I had made up my mind, I told Mateo. The joy I heard in his voice only added to the joy in my heart. I was so excited and nervous but so fucking happy. It felt good. It felt real. It felt like the right thing to do. He bought me a ticket on Iberia Airlines, flying from Vancouver to New York to Madrid on August 25th.

Naturally I had to tell Claudia. She was totally excited, pretty much as excited as I was. That felt good, to be missed, to be wanted. I started feeling like maybe I was going to be able to build a new life there after all.

A new universe.

I called Jocelyn too, to let her know. I wasn’t sure how she was going to react, maybe call me crazy. I had been writing her all about Mateo, and when she came to visit Vancouver after I had just returned from Spain, she got a teary earful about how doomed our relationship was. She’d never seen me that way and I think I scared her all the way back to Saskatchewan. But she took the news of me moving to Spain surprisingly well, with no judging on her behalf.

“Do what makes you happy,” she said lightly.

“Doing Mateo made me happy,” I joked.

She sighed. “Such a romantic name. Mateo Casalles. Vera Casalles sounds good too. You sound like a Spanish queen.”

I flinched at the mention of Spanish royalty. “Well, no one is getting married here.”

“No, I suppose not,” she said. “You’re only twenty-three and have your whole life ahead of you, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to get married ever again, or even have kids.”

Ouch, that hurt. Did I mention that Jocelyn could be really blunt?

“I meant that more as in we don’t really know each other that well and should probably live together for a while first before that happens. Or, you know, what you just said.”

“Oh. Sorry, Vera. But, I mean, you should probably keep that in mind when you get there. I totally support the move to Spain for your true love kind of notion, even though I won’t see you as often, but try and keep your heart protected, too.”

Didn’t she know it was way too late for that?

After I told her, I knew it was only a matter of time before it would pop up on my Facebook or it would slip out somehow. It was time to tell my mother.

Unfortunately, I picked a day that Mercy was over. She and my mom were in the kitchen, baking dinner together. Josh had picked up extra shifts that week and happened to be home, so if I wanted his support, I was going to have to jump on it.

My chest felt like it was filled with cement. Ugh. This was going to suck so badly.

I went to Josh’s room and gave him a look. “It’s time.”

He nodded and came out to join me, and we walked down the hall. You’d think I was going to war.

We went into the kitchen. Mom was sipping her wine and peering at Mercy over her glasses. Mercy was wearing a stylish apron that she must have brought from her apartment, her hair pulled back in one of those effortless topknots that makes me look like I have an animal on my head when I try to do it. She was grating a block of parmesan into a bowl, gluten-free lasagna being assembled in a pan beside it.

I stopped on the other side of the island and cleared my throat until they looked at me and Josh.

“What is it, sweetie?” My mother asked.

Oh, she wasn’t going to be calling me sweetie in a minute.

I looked up at Josh. He nodded at me encouragingly.

I felt so sick, like I’d eaten a pile of nerves and they were sitting at the bottom of my stomach, wriggling around.

“I have something I need to tell you,” I said, my voice no louder than a whisper.

Mercy put the cheese down and cocked her head quizzically.

I was afraid to look them in the eyes, so I looked at the island instead. I cleared my throat. “I’ve decided to move to Spain.”

There was silence. I risked it and looked up.

My mother cocked a brow. “Okay. Well, I guess we can discuss this.”

Mercy looked at her, appraising her expression. She sucked on her teeth and said, “Sure, Vera. I could see you were really happy there.”

“You’re going to have to start working more,” my mother said. “And you can’t let it interfere with your studies.”

“I saved up a lot of money in a year,” Mercy said. “It’s hard, but it’s doable.”

“When did you want to go?” my mother asked. “Next fall? I don’t think you could make next summer work. You’ve got Mercy’s wedding and everything.”

“Yeah, my wedding.”

Ooh, boy.

I felt Josh nudge me.

I gulped. “I’m going next week.”

Mercy dropped the cheese grater. It landed with a clatter that echoed through the kitchen.

“What?” my mother hissed.

“You’re joking,” said Mercy, shaking her head. She looked at Josh. “What’s wrong with her? Is this a joke?”

“No,” Josh said. “I had nothing to do with it, but I’m here for support.”

Thanks, Josh, I thought angrily. Well, it was too late now. They were already freaking out. I wondered how long I could keep Mateo a secret, my whole reason for going.

“You aren’t going,” my mother said, putting down the wine glass. “You have school. Jesus, Vera. Use your brain. Sometimes I wonder about you and your flights of fancy.”

“I’m not going to school this year.”

“Like hell you aren’t,” she growled, really starting to get mad.

“I’m taking a year off. Or maybe two. Maybe I’ll go to university in Madrid. I’m sure—”

“Are you on drugs again?” Mercy asked, folding her arms together in a huff, her lip curled up like somehow this was affecting her life in some way.

I glared at her. “No. I’m not on drugs. I’m just going to Spain.”

“Well, you can’t and you aren’t,” my mother said with finality. “Wait till your father hears about this.”

“Right. Why is it that you always call dad when something wrong has happened, but never with something right?”

“Because things never go right with you,” my mother sniped.

Ouch. Okay, don’t cry, don’t cry, I told myself. She had a wicked tongue and I knew this going in.

“Mom,” Josh warned her.

“I’m disappointed in you, Joshua,” she said, her voice taking on that icy competitive realtor tone that she was really, really good at. “You’re actually supporting her decision?”

He gulped but nodded. “Yes. She’s an adult, she can do whatever she wants.”

“No,” Mercy interjected. “She can’t. She’s in school that’s paid for by mom and dad. She barely makes any money at her shit job. She can’t get to Spain even if she started turning tricks.” At that she gave me a pointed look, as if that was a possibility.

“I already have a plane ticket,” I said, and I knew once I said it that the can of worms was going to turn into a bucket of snakes. There were all coming out, unstoppable.

“How the hell did you get a plane ticket?” my mother asked. She shot Mercy a nervous look, as if Mercy had been right.

“It was bought for me.”

“By whom?” she demanded.

“By the man I’m in love with.”

Silence. I could hear the fridge motor kick on. Somewhere outside a dog barked. The blood inside me was pulsing loudly.

My mother looked truly confused. “What man?”

Suddenly Mercy shrieked, “Oh my god!” and put her hands over her mouth.

She figured it out.

“What?” my mom asked again. “What am I missing here?”

“The soccer player!” Mercy yelled. She pointed at me, jabbing her finger in the air. “You’re in love with the soccer player!”

I could see my mother mouth, “Soccer player?” out of the corner of my eye but all my focus was on Mercy as the disgusted look came into her eyes.

“Vera, he’s married!” she yelled. “Oh my god, you were with a married man?”

“What?!” my mother screeched loudly.

“He’s getting a divorce,” I said feebly, as if that would help. It wouldn’t. The damage was done.

“Oh my god, Vera,” my mother said, putting her hand to her head like she was going to faint. Her face had gone pale. “Vera, you stupid idiot. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m not an idiot,” I retorted helplessly.

“You had an affair with a married man!” Mercy was beside herself. She kept shaking her head, flapping her hands. “I can’t even…I can’t.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, sure it’s not. We all know what you’re like. Can’t shut your legs for one moment, can you?”

“Shut up, Mercy,” Josh sneered.

“Vera,” my mother whispered, holding on to the edge of the island. “Please tell me this is all a joke.”

I shook my head. “It’s not. He’s flying me to Spain. I’m going to live with him. I love him.” She gasped. I continued. “It’s not a joke, it’s just life and it’s happening.”

“You’re such a slut,” Mercy said, practically spitting at me. “After what Dad did to Mom? After the mess you both became? What about me? I’m getting married next year, married, and you’re such a selfish whorish brat that you go and take up with a fucking married man, some Spanish scum, and you think you’re so cool about it?”

I couldn’t breathe. My face turned red, hot, tight. I felt a panic attack coming on, anchoring me in a terrible state of paralysis. I was afraid if I did move, I was going to punch my sister right in her self-righteous face.

“Hey, why don’t we all calm down here,” Josh said commandingly, raising his hands.

“Oh fuck off, Josh,” Mercy said. “You’re getting in the way and this has nothing to do with you.”

I didn’t care anymore if Josh did go. I couldn’t get any more hurt than I already was. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but damn, I didn’t think their words would be so vicious, so hateful.

“Vera Elizabeth Miles,” my mother said, her tone suddenly hard. I eyed her wearily, suddenly afraid again. I did not like that tone, the dead tone of indifference and disappointment.

She breathed in sharply through her nose. “If you leave this house, if you forgo your studies, you will never get a dime from me for tuition. And you will never be allowed back in this house.”

“Mom!” Josh yelled at her. “Are you crazy?”

“Oh shut up, Joshua,” she snapped, eyes flashing. “I expected more from you. Instead, you’re supporting your sister during her most idiotic move ever.”

Okay. Apparently I could get more hurt. My insides twisted around, the pain physical, as if my whole body was under fire. But she couldn’t be serious, could she? She was just overheated, overreacting because of what happened with her and Dad and Jude, right?

I swallowed painfully and stared at her. She stared right back at me. There was no love in her eyes.

“Do you hear me?” she went on, her expression made of ice. “If you walk out that door next week, you aren’t allowed back here. You’ll get no help with school. You’ll be totally on your own. And don’t even think your dad will help you either, because he won’t. You understand? If you’re going to be a damn homewrecker, throwing away your future for a man who can’t keep it in his pants, then you are going to suffer the consequences. These kinds of things do not go unpunished in life. Hope you learn from this, sweetie.”

The sweetie part was a killer. Tears came to my eyes, the front of my face feeling hot and tight. I nodded, able to keep them at bay, and turned around, walking quickly back to my room, my heart in my throat, my lungs deprived of air.

I shut the door behind me and stood there for a few minutes, trying to absorb what had just happened, trying to hold my body together. It felt as if it would come falling apart at any moment.

I was risking the chance at a new life on uncertainty, and the only thing that was certain was that if I ever returned, I’d come back to no life at all.

I collapsed to the floor.

I had made my choice.


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю