Page 56 of After the Fire
I took a deep breath. “Yes, I went to visit my frie—”
“Bullshit!¡No me mientas más!” he yelled. “What did you expect was going to happen, Susana, huh?”
“Pedro, please do not cause a scene.” He needed to leave immediately. I ran the risk that one of my daughters, or god forbid, one of the staff, would hear what he was spewing about. “Sit down.”
He obeyed, taking a seat where Cristina had been minutes earlier. He looked around, focusing his gaze on the large pile of cloth samples on the floor. “You’re not canceling the wedding?”
“Why would I?” I cocked my head. “He’s not coming back.”
He scoffed, then crossed his arms across his chest and took a deep breath. “Is that really how you feel?” he asked. “How are you so certain he won’t be returning?”
Pedro leaned back on the loveseat, uncrossing his arms and placing his hands on his lap. He arched one of his brows in question, waiting patiently for my answer. I blinked and swallowed a few times, my mouth immediately dry at his charged question.
“I just know.”
“You just know,” he said a little mockingly. He tilted his head and stretched his fingers on his lap. “Hmm.”
“Listen, he made a mistake, and this is how he is going to repay me,” I said. I had no expectation of him ever returning, despite his children, despite the family we had created together. “I think I was very clear, and it’s the least he could do.”
Pedro swallowed and turned his face to the door. For a split second, I thought someone was just outside the doorway, listening in on this conversation.
“So you just went there and had a conversation, and then that’s it?” he asked. “The conclusion was that he would stay there and leave you and your children alone?”
“Why are you asking me this?” I replied, taking a deep breath to calm myself. The image of the kitchen on fire was burned into my eyes. “I asked him to back off. Period.”
“I can assume, then, that you haven’t heard?”
“What did he say to you?” I asked, starting to panic at his tone. “Do you think he’s coming back?”
“Susana, what did you do?”
A beat.
“Nothing.” Except it came out as a question.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! I did nothing!” My hands were shaking at the double meaning of what I had just uttered. It was an accident, a slip in my control, and the tablecloth caught fire. And then I didn’t react, the flames engulfing every single space around us both. But I also did nothing to stop it or to help him, although he never needed much helping. And I didn’t react. “Nothing.” I sighed.
“He’s dead.”
My world stopped. Ended.
Pedro looked at me, unfazed. “What did you do?” he whispered.
“I don’t know. Nothing. I…” How could he be dead if I saw him moving around, gathering his work documents? He was fast, his briefcase in one hand. I was paralyzed, but he was moving around, alive. “How?”
“There was a fire.”
“No.” No, no. No, this had to be another one of his ploys, a decoy to make me believe he wouldn’t come back, and then when I least expected it, he would return, triumphant and like a hero. And then everyone would know for a fact that I was a liar. That I manipulated everyone around me. That I was unreliable and shouldn’t be trusted.
“Susana, do you really think that?” he asked. I must have said something out loud. “They found his body outside of the house. Smoke inhalation. Ruled accidental.”
“¿Mamá?” I heard my daughter call from the top of the stairs. “Can you come here for a second, please?”
“Ya va.”I turned to look at him. He wasn’t angry, he just looked like he was about to give up. “This can’t be happening.”
“I don’t know what you mean by that, but it’s already been happening. For months now.”
