by A. Constanza
“Really?” she whispered, swirling her fingers around my chest.
“Really,” I said. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Skip.”
“No.” I chuckled. “Consider it my birthday gift.”
“Fine,” she mumbled. “I’m not entirely sure. You were just different from the other guys I’ve interacted with in the past. You weren’t looking at me like I was someone to conquer; you looked at me like you just wanted to genuinely connect with me. And we did. Once I touched your hand, everything felt balanced. It still feels like that when I’m with you.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself. When we were together, even in the beginning when things were tense, my world started to shift for the better. We were two magnets and when we got together, there was no easy way to separate us. I never wanted to separate myself from Estella; she had fascinated me from the beginning and was the woman that I wanted. I just knew.
“Being with you is as easy as breathing,” I said, breathing her in.
Estella squeezed me slightly and then over time, her composure relaxed. Within minutes, she had fallen into a deep slumber. I continued to stroke her hair with my free arm, enjoying the weight of her love, even in her sleep.
***
Estella’s angelic and slumbering face had created a frenzy in my stomach. She slept with her mouth slightly agape, breathing deeply, and her hair perfectly framed her delicate cheeks. I pushed a wavy strand behind her ear and danced my fingers down to her neck.
“Stella mia,” I softly called.
She hummed and nuzzled her face deeper into the comforter.
I pulled her hand to my lips and placed a tender kiss on top. “Friday, 6 p.m.”
“What about it?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Okay.” She smiled and then it vanished. “We need to get as much done before then. I have a lot to do today. Will you go with me to the Latin Market? I promise Mama I’d go before visiting the hospital. She wants me to take pictures, take notes of the missing inventory, clean up, and make phone calls. I’d feel safer if you went with me.”
“Absolutely.”
Estella jumped out of bed and slipped into a pair of light-washed skinny jeans and a thick cardigan before pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll be ready.”
Walking in the city, even for one block, was vastly different from walking in the country. Both sides of the street in the city reflected the other—just red-bricked townhouses, small trees planted every fifteen feet, and one trash can that overflowed with junk.
Sure, the air smelled like manhole steam, but the trees were a paint palette of earthy tones, the birds were chirping, and the sun shone brightly on us. A nice walk in the early autumn morning was the perfect start to the day.
The Latin market was on the corner of the street, and Estella stood in front of it for a brief second. Her shoulders rose with uncertainty, and then they sank back down. She pulled the keys out of her purse and unlocked the main door.
The good news was that there was no exterior damage to the store, but I couldn’t say the same for the interior. It seemed like the intruders used a bat or something similar to destroy their inventory. The metal chip racks were bent out of shape; cans and bags of food were busted open; colored drinks were spilled on the floors, creating tar-like puddles in some areas; the cash register had been broken into; and coins were scattered across the checkout section.
Estella placed her hand over her mouth, and her eyes grew fiercely upset. Her head snapped to the front corner of the market. “Low-lives.”
She noticed that the intruders had smashed their security camera.
Estella pulled out her phone from her back pocket and walked around the entire store, halting at times to take pictures of each aisle. She circled back to the front of the Latin market and walked behind the checkout counter. There was hesitancy in her walk, and I leaned in to look at what was causing it. Estella leaned down and picked up a picture frame. She stared at the photo for a moment before her hand quivered.
It was a picture of her family, sitting on a picnic blanket under a cherry blossom tree. The frame had been broken, and she gently tucked it underneath the counter and turned her back to me as she raised her hand toward her face. I wasn’t sure if she was wiping away her tears or in a deep state of thought.
“If I find out who did this, I’m going to sucker-punch them straight in the face,” she said, turning back around without showing any signs of crying. She was too livid to cry; she wanted to get some sort of revenge.
“The police will find out who did this.”
“I hope so.” She sighed.
Estella and I divided the rest of the tasks evenly to lessen the amount of time spent at the Latin market. The destruction of her family’s business and her father’s health was a running thought, and it was apparent from the grim frown on her face that she couldn’t stay all day here.
We worked fast, efficiently, and in silence. Estella stood in front of the market, her hands on her hips, but the more she scanned the room, the lower her arms fell. I waited for her frown to perk up, even for a second. Nothing.
The dainty bell above the door jingled, and Estella swiftly turned, her face contorted into confusion.
The young man at the door looked around Estella’s age with dark brown, comb-over hair, and he wore a black, flannel jacket with black, slim jeans. Estella didn’t look angry at him which made me believe it wasn’t her ex, but she certainly looked disappointed.
Estella grabbed one of the two clipboards from the counter and handed it to me. “Do you think you can double-check the inventory for the cold drinks?”
“Sure,” I said, staring at her a little too long, in hopes she’d let me know she was okay. Estella gave the boy a cautious look, and he slowly walked toward the counter, his eyes meeting mine. Estella looked over her shoulder and nodded in assurance that I could go.
She believed by sending me to the other end of the store that I wouldn’t be able to hear her conversation with the young man. My auditory system had been trained far more frequently than the average person. Nothing could get past me. I understood that she needed privacy, and I wasn’t proud of myself for eavesdropping, but she had a spark of fear throughout her conversation. I needed to know what was going on.
“Seb, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him that I’m in town.”
“He already knows you’re in Brooklyn.”
Estella gave him a pleading look, one that came too easily for her. The young man lowered his head and shrugged. “I’ll do the best that I can do.”
Estella nodded, appreciatively, and her demeanor had shifted slightly. “So, um, how’s your mom doing?”
“She passed away two weeks ago. It’s been hard for us, especially Cesar. He’s been in a dark mood since then. He’s been drinking too much.”
Estella visibly shuddered at his words and then shook her head. “That’s exactly why I don’t want him around me; it’ll be a living hell for the next six days. You should keep your distance, too. You’re a good guy, but having you around me will only make him swim faster.”
As he scanned the Latin market, he saw that I was watching them. I wasn’t going to divert my eyes or look guilty for being caught because it wouldn’t be true. Estella was my top priority and if someone was going to complicate her life, I wanted to be fully aware.
“Who’s the gringo?”
“My boyfriend,” she declared.
Seb glared at her cautiously. “Cesar is going to explode.”
“Cesar needs to leave me alone. I left him because he had no respect for me and was extremely toxic. You, out of everyone, knows that, but I’m not scared of him. I just want to live in peace.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It was nice seeing you, Seb, but it won’t be nice to see him. I don’t want him around me or my family.”
She was no longer facing him and looked
down at her clipboard, running her pencil down the whole sheet to appear busy. The young man seemed to have finally accepted her words and swiftly turned around and walked out of the market.
Estella lifted her head and gazed at the door with a thousand-yard stare.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Estella
I knew that I had to confront Cesar at some point, but I didn’t like the idea of seeing him anytime soon. I didn’t come back to complicate my life; I came for my family, for my father who remained motionless on a bed.
Cesar had to wait, and better yet, not come around me at all. I moved beyond him in the last two months of being in Italy. Cesar and his drama seemed ancient. I couldn’t succumb to him and his disastrous ways after coming so far.
Ignacio knew that there was tension between Seb and me—the way he looked at me expectantly. There was so much I wanted to tell him about my past and about Cesar, but I didn’t have the energy to do it right now. We had been in the honeymoon phase for only a night before I received news about my papa; I didn’t want another major issue in the mix.
Ignacio’s car stopped in front of the hospital, and we both stepped out of the car to have a little more privacy.
“What time should we come for you?” Ignacio asked.
“In three hours.”
“Okay.”
“Can you stay the night with me again?”
Ignacio’s face softened. “I’ll stay every night if you’d like.”
“I would like that,” I agreed.
Ignacio cupped my chin and gazed into my eyes. “I’m here for you, however you need. I hope you know you can talk to me.”
I nodded, reminding myself that I loved one of the most understanding men in the world. I patted his chest and looked up at his cognac-colored eyes that swirled with concern.
“I would like to explain what happened at the market, but later in the evening,” I said.
“I’ll be all ears,” he said, his lips pressing against my forehead.
Pulling away from him made me feel like a fish out of water. My chest tightened up, and my head started to fog up. The thought of Cesar running around Brooklyn with his eyes on us was unsettling and maybe even dangerous.
I turned on my heels and hoped to meet Ignacio’s warm eyes, and I did. Ignacio watched me enter through the hospital doors and gave me a slight nod. I made my way to Papa’s room with a little more assurance. I wanted Ignacio with me at all times—I felt safer—with him, but I couldn’t ask him to follow me around like a puppy when I knew he had other people in New York.
“Hey,” I replied, entering the hospital room.
Mama placed her finger over her lip and then tilted her head toward Papa. “He’s sleeping.”
Maya warned me that there were moments where Mama would believe that Papa was sleeping. We all knew that he wasn’t just sleeping, but no one would say otherwise. If that was her only method of being able to process everything, then so be it. Who was I to take that away from her?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered and pulled a seat next to her. “Have you eaten?”
“A salad from the cafeteria. Did you bring my toiletries?”
“Yes.” I reached for her floral travel bag from my backpack. “Will you be staying at the hospital tonight?”
“Yes, your father never liked sleeping alone.”
I nodded.
“Will Ignacio be staying over the night again?” she asked casually.
I made my best attempt at a poker face, but I could feel the blood washing over me. “What?”
“Maria saw him go in at night, and then saw you two walking out in the morning.” It took a lot from me to not roll my eyes.
Maria was the self-appointed watchdog of the block. She would sit by the bay window, knitting through all hours of the day until it hit dinner, which she had on the table near the window, and turned the lights off by 9 p.m. Growing up, I hated knowing that I was watched every time I stepped out of my house, but then I learned she did it because she hoped to see her husband as he patrolled around the area. Even after retirement, it seemed that she refused to do anything else.
“What was the sleeping arrangement?”
She already knew the truth, but she didn’t need to know the whole truth. After all, she was still an overprotective mom, even if I was twenty-four years old.
“Ignacio stayed in my room. I stayed in Maya’s room because she didn’t want a man in her room, and she slept in your room,” I answered.
“Ah okay.” She nodded. “Well, I’m glad he stayed with you two. I was worried about my girls the whole night.” That was not what I expected. She must have trusted Ignacio because she wouldn’t even let Cesar go upstairs when we were dating.
I leaned my head against her shoulder. “We’re fine, you just worry about Papa. I’ll look after the house and Maya.”
Mama rubbed my head and sighed. “Thank you and tell Ignacio I said thank you, as well.”
“I will.”
“He seems like a good man, better than that Cesar,” she said his name with disgust.
“Oh, Mama, I know you never liked him. I’m sure everyone in Brooklyn knows.” She had once cursed Cesar on live TV. Granted, she didn’t know that she was being filmed, and Cesar had provoked her before she was recorded. She looked like a mad woman, flailing her hands and telling him to drop dead.
“Be quiet,” she hissed, trying to conceal her laughter. It was funny now, but having my mom and Cesar in the same room was painful. At night, I would cry about the thought of someday having to choose between Cesar and my parents. Looking back at it, I wondered why I lasted as long as I did with him. He was the biggest mistake of my life.
Everything was easy with Ignacio; even breathing was easier around him. He was a reserved man, a man who didn’t show much emotion at first glance, but that reserve melted away within seconds. Ignacio had mastered keeping his emotions at bay with strangers, but in reality, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and I loved that about him.
“I love him.” The words danced out of my mouth. It was the first time that I admitted it to myself. I had spent so much time suppressing my feelings for him ever since we’d met, but now, it was just a fresh breath of air.
Mama released me and grabbed my arm, her brown eyes drilling into mine. “Did you say you love him?”
“Yes,” I answered, a little more cautiously.
“Ah, our daughter is in love,” she cheered, nudging Papa’s leg.
The relationships I’d had before couldn’t even compare to what I had with Ignacio. If I was experiencing love now, then I never knew what love was before.
“And he’s rich,” she whispered to Papa.
“Mama!” I scolded.
“Que!”
“It’s not always about money.”
“Money helps, hija. Money gives you that big, sparkly engagement ring,” she said, fanning her hand out and cocking her head to the side.
I lowered my head back on her shoulder and started to giggle as I imagined a ring. It wasn’t quite the conversation I was expecting to have with my mama today, but I was glad we had it. It lightened the mood. We both needed that laugh. Things didn’t feel as complicated anymore.
***
“Goodnight, Nacho!” Maya hollered before I closed the bedroom door.
“Nacho?” I asked.
“Her nickname for me,” Ignacio huffed.
“Maybe I should call you—”
“No,” he said and proceeded to place a kiss on my lips. “How are your parents doing?” He held me in his arms.
I simply stared at him, in awe of his question. Cesar had never asked me how my parents were doing; he didn’t care for them. He would fight with them about my curfew or about when I could see him next. Everything was an argument waiting to happen with him, and when my parents did attempt to stop me from seeing him, I never fought back. It was a blessing in disguise.
Ugh! I hated compa
ring them; it wasn’t fair to Ignacio.
“Estella?” Ignacio cooed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry,” I said. “Mama is doing okay, and Papa is as stable as he can get. Sorry, just have a lot on my mind still.”
“I can tell.” He tenderly grazed my cheek with his thumb. “Do you want to talk?”
My mind and heart were racing at a million miles an hour, and I couldn’t process anything. My hand flew up to my forehead, and I pressed on it, sighing when there was a brief moment of relief. It felt like there was a tight band around my head.
“Sit,” Ignacio said, easing me down onto the bed.
I pulled my knees into my face when a sudden onset of chills ran across my body. Ignacio placed my Brooklyn College fleece blanket over me and ran his finger over the bulldog patch on it.
“My mascot was a polar bear,” he shared.
“Did you enjoy college?” I asked.
Ignacio laughed dryly and shook his head. “You don’t enjoy college when you’re in a music school. All we do is breathe, eat, and live music. Alongside classes, we also had to devote hours to the art.”
“No parties, no girls, no nightlife?”
“I recall going to two nightclubs, and I did date a few girls. They were time-consuming, and when I had a bit of time for myself, I realized it wasn’t worth it.” It brought a smile to my face that he decided to make time for me. Heck, he traveled across the ocean to be with me.
“How about you? Is that where you met Cesar?”
I glared at him, and he raised his eyebrow. It was clear we were going to have this conversation, and I pulled the blanket tighter against myself, feeling the cold surrounding me again.
There was no point in avoiding this much-needed conversation, I conceded.
“That’s where I met his brother, Sebastian. We were good friends, but after college, we didn’t speak much. On New Year’s, I was waitressing at the Russo’s restaurant, and Sebastian, Cesar, and a couple of his friends dined in. It was a busy night, but we managed to catch up, and Cesar made his advances. After that night, Cesar would come around Papa’s market on the days that I worked and would chat with me. He asked me out on a date, and eventually, we made it official on Valentine’s Day.”
