Page 27 of After the Fire
“Did you talk to Manuel?” she asked like she was reading my mind. I needed closure. Maybe this was the first step I needed to take to start to understand what was happening. “What are you going to say to him?”
“No, but I think I might call him right now actually.”
“Okay, I’m going to go back to sleep. Call me later.Beso.”
In my resolve, I dialed Manuel’s phone number. And to my surprise, he answered on the first ring.
“Hey,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep. “I miss you.”
Confusion went through my brain.Why is this man missing you? He practically called off your wedding!
“Where are you? What time is it?” he continued, and I could hear sheets ruffling in the background and strong and even footsteps, followed by a door closing.
“We need to talk,” I said, clearing my throat so that I sounded strong and brave, although I was anything but. There was silence on the other end of the line, so I assumed that was my cue to continue talking. “What the fuck, Manuel?”
Anger. It was just coming out. I was confused and angry. I wasn’t hurt at all, because I had been slowly realizing that maybe this had been a good thing.
“I’m angry, but also, I don’t understand it,” I continued.
He let out a long breath, almost relieved. Manuel was transparent. He wore his emotions on his face and had many tells, and this was one thing he did when he was nervous. He would hold in his breath, not realizing he was doing it until someone spoke or delivered news or whatever it was that was plaguing him.
“I think that we both know by now that we wouldn’t have survived a marriage. That’s pretty obvious to me now. You would have been miserable, I would have been miserable, and I don’t see us ever getting a divorce because that would have been an outright disaster and Susana would have made our lives a living hell if we had even attempted that.What I don’t get is why you never talked to me. I didn’t think it was that bad, was it?”
In hindsight, maybe itwasbad. Maybe we were both stuck to this idea that marriage was the next step, and it made logical sense, since we had been together for a long time. I mean, Susana seemed to think so, so it made sense to me. But was I really in love with this man? Or was I in love with the idea of this man, and a wedding and a family and a house in the suburbs, just like what my grandmother had?
“Victoria, of course it was bad. The only thing you did for the past two years was go to work and then get home and curl up with a book. You’ve been disconnected fromus.”
“Iwas disconnected? The moments we shared together were always with others around. When I dared suggest we go on a trip together, you invited your cousin and his wife! It’s like everything was more exciting than me.” Early on in our relationship, I suggested we go on vacation together. I guess I was still in the honeymoon period or whatever that was called, and I booked a week-long vacation at a fancy estate upstate, with a spa and some outdoor activities we could do together. Manuel suggested to his cousin and his wife they join us, and our “romantic” vacation turned into a group trip that involved zero spa time and too much hanging out with others. “And I get it, maybe I wastoodomestic for your taste? You have so many friends, and I’m more of a loner, and I’m not embarrassed by that at all.”
I could feel myself getting agitated and needed to rein it in. Calm and collected all the way. I was happy being with myself. Happy to sit by a fire and sit in companionable silence with whoever. But with Manuel, it always felt like we had to be doing something, anything. Attending events or visiting with friends and family or watching a movie. Together.
“Victoria.” A sigh. “You wouldn’t have listened either way. You are so obsessed with what Susana thinks of you that you would have gone through with the wedd—”
“Stop.” Was he suggesting I didn’t see the signs? “Do you love me? Or you know what, better yet, did you ever love me?”
Silence.
More silence.
Even more silence.
Too much silence.
It felt like five or six minutes went by in total silence. I could hear the noises coming from outside. The town was coming back to life now that everyone was heading home from work. From his end, I could hear the bathroom fan running, his foot tapping on the floor. Another one of his nervous tells.
“Okay, well, that says it all. I don’t know who you’re with now on the trip that was supposed to be our fucking honeymoon, but I hope she makes you happy. I’m moving on from you, just so you know. Might not be tomorrow or even the day after, but I will move on, and I will be happy.”
“Victoria, can you ple—”
“No, Manuel, I’m over this. You were a shitty boyfriend. I was a shitty girlfriend. We were not meant to be, and I get it.” Did he ever stop to think that he could have been leading me on? Letting me believe he wanted me, he loved me? “But cheating on me? That’s way below your standards. We could have walked away from all of this, been spared the humiliation. Instead, you turned me into the villain. And I don’t fucking deserve it. Call Susana and your parents and tell them we’re over and why, or I will.”
“Or you will what? God, you are just like your grandmother, you know that?”
“You fucking cheated on me with who even knows and then played coy with everyone, suggesting I left you at the altar. Really? I’m like my grandmother?”
“Victoria, you need to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal. So what? Our relationship ended. You’ll move on, you just said it. It’s not the end of the world, and maybe you need to start looking at life that way.”
“¿Me estás jodiendo?Are you fucking kidding me right now? I wasted so much time on you, on nurturing something that you knew wouldn’t go anywhere. And you fucking led me on, Manuel, you led me to believe you loved me and you wanted the same thing.” I took a deep breath. “You know what? I was angry before, but now I’m fucking fuming, and I hope you get what you deserve.” He could rot in hell for all I cared. “Goodbye.”
