Page 61 of After the Fire
“No, not easy for me to say at all, actually.” She was serious, her brows furrowed. “Don’t you think I question my actions all the time? I have a tough job, the hardest job, really. And there’s nothing wrong with asking for guidance. But Victoria, our actions have consequences. Every. Single. Time. No matter if it’s the correct one or not. We just can’t all make decisions because they please others.”
I looked up at her with tears in my eyes. My brother looked at me, some confusion in his face, probably because Cata hadn’t filled him in on the Santiago shenanigans.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she replied and turned to look at her daughter, who was silently sleeping in her arms.
30
THE FIRE
I saton the bed in my childhood bedroom for what seemed like hours, completely numb. Susana wasn’t home yet, so I snuck into my bedroom to gather my thoughts. It looked just like it did the day I fled. My dress was still hanging from the door to the ensuite bathroom, the garment bag half open and only the lace bodice peeking out. My shoes were lined up neatly to the side, exactly the way I’d left them.
There was a soft knock on the door, and it took all of my energy to stand up and open it. Half of me hoped it would be Santiago, either ready for round two or ready to grovel and apologize. The other half was being a realist and knew that the ball was in my court and there wasn’t a chance that he would have come find me. Not this time.
“Pedro? What are you doing here?” I said, dumbfounded. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes more prominent now. He had gotten a haircut the week before the wedding, but his hair was looking untamed, and his whole appearance was disheveled. One of the buttons of his shirt was in the wrong buttonhole, making his collar askew around his neck.
“I wanted to check on you.” He smiled. “Agustín told me you had seen the baby earlier today, so I assumed you would be here,” he said matter-of-factly.
“She’s cute,” I said, smiling as I remembered the tiny baby I had just met. “I think she’s the perfect combination of both of them.”
He smiled and walked inside, his movements slow and uneven. So much had changed in four weeks. He looked much older, much more tired.
“Can we talk?”
“You made it pretty clear that you had nothing to say to me, that I should talk to Susana instead, so I’m here to do just that.”
He looked resigned. He also looked like he wanted to say more but something was stopping him.
“Did you like that town?” he asked. My eyes widened in surprise at his question.
“How did you know where I was?” I asked. I’d spoken to him weeks ago at this point. Everything was a blur, but that conversation had happened pretty early on.I never mentioned where I was because of the risk of someone coming to find me and dragging me back to the city.
“Carlos,” he said softly. “I knew immediately where you were as soon as you started asking questions, honey. Carlos confirmed it for me.”
He sat down on the other side of the bed, his legs at an angle and his torso facing me.
“Why are you on her side?” I blurted out. It was definitely not my intention, but my temper was flaring. The whole conversation with Susana, the fight with Santiago, everything had my blood at its boiling point, ready to burst. I closed my eyes, waiting for his words.
“It’s not about sides, honey,” Pedro replied. His eyes fixed on whatever was happening outside my window. It was already dark out. There were few stars to be seen, covered by wispy evening clouds.
“You know what I mean.” I sighed. “It feels like you’ve protected her and covered for her all this time. Did you ever stop to think what that could cause?”
He froze for a moment and slowly turned to look at me. “Because I love her.”
“Yeah, but love isn’t enough.” My mind immediately went back to Santiago.Does he really love me like he said? Does love mean that you let people walk away?
“Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s the thing that moves us forward, keeps us going.”
“What really happened to him?”
He was still looking at me, but at the question, he darted his face around the room, examining its contents. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“Pedro,por favor. I’ve had enough lies. Just tell me.” I closed my eyes and stayed silent. After a few seconds, I heard him sigh. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if words were hard to come by.
“Were you able to speak to Carlos?” he asked. The question was genuine, like he was prepared to tell me everything.
“Yes, I talked to him,” I replied, annoyed at his stalling. “You can fill in the blanks.”
