by Ewing, A. B.
The next words were never meant to escape her thoughts, but she was emotionally raw and the desire to hurt him was too deep to ignore. “I would think that you would want to be with Jasmine Jordan or have you tired of her already too?”
It had the desired effect. Guilt together with pain flashed across his face and when next he spoke it was with the familiar note of urgency he had used just five months ago when she had come here with his mother. “Amor, I am sorry that I did that, but I promise you it is not what you think. There is nothing between me and Jasmine.” Somehow his explanation sounded feeble…again.
“Raphael, it doesn’t matter anymore. Whether you are having an affair with Jasmine or not, I think our marriage has run its course.”
“No!” He shouted desperately. “That cannot be true! You cannot say that! We love each other. I know there is a lot we have to work through but we can do it.” He said vehemently.
Shaking her head she stopped him. “Some things cannot be fixed, Raphael.”
“Is it because of what I said about the baby? Is it because I blamed you? I didn’t mean any of that, Amor. I only said those things because I was hurting….” Desperation crowded his voice as he pleaded with his wife.
She broke then, her body shaking, tears flowing freely. “I was hurting too, Raphael and I needed you. I needed you to hold me when I cried; to tell me that you still loved me, that is was not my fault our baby died…” With every word she pounded her chest as if beating the broken words out of her body.
Raphael stood close lipped at the side of the bed wanting to go to her, to gather her up in his arms, to take away all the pain. “Dahlia, please tell me what I have to make this right? To have you forgive me? Whatever it takes, Amor. I will do. I promise you.”
“That’s just it, Raphael. I don’t know if there is anything you can do.” Without allowing him a chance to defend himself she carried on. “I know you think I tried to kill myself but I didn’t. I just had a horrible headache that refused to go. Seeing you with your lady friend in the papers only made it worse, so I took some pills to get rid of it. Yes, I know I over did it, but I just wanted it to stop.” Drawing some much needed breaths she allowed him to comment. He apparently had nothing to say. “As soon as I am strong enough, Raphael, I am going home.” That drew a response.
“No, you cannot! Dahlia, we can work through this…” He moved to the bed, but she stopped him with a turned out palm.
Deflated, she begged. “Raphael, please! I’m tired. Can you please go now?” For a moment she honestly thought he was going to argue some more because he had that persistent look on his face he got when he wanted something really bad.
“Fine, Dahlia, if that’s what you need I will give it to you but I will not let you leave until you are well enough.” To say she expected him to give in so easy would be a lie. She had expected him to do the Cavos thing and demand she stay. Dahlia watched as her husband left and as the broad expanse of his back exited the door she wondered if she had made the right decision.
****
Okay, so he had done what his father suggested and swallowed his pride—for now! He had told her what she wanted to hear. Right now he just needed her to get better. As far as she believed she was going home, but if Dahlia Cavos thought that he would just let her walk out of his life without a fight she had a another thing coming. He would move heaven and hell before he let her go. Dahlia was his wife and she was going to remain his wife if he had anything to say about it. As far as he knew he had plenty to say. Despite the trials of the day, Raphael Cavos left the hospital a happier man. With a smile on his face he began to formulate a plan.
****
Chapter 15
It was a constant battle of the mind and heart. A fight to forgive, forget and love. Desire to put the last few months behind her raged like an erupting volcano inside her. Dahlia honestly didn’t know what to do. Raphael Cavos was on a path of redemption. His determination to prove his regret and his love was a permanent weakness to Dahlia.
It started with one single white rose on her first day home from the hospital. A simple note attached to the stem read ‘I love you.’ Forgetting the wrongs of a man was so easy when he was being as attentive as Raphael. To be wooed and placed on a pedestal by a man that could have almost any woman he wanted, was enough to shift the chips of ice that surrounded her fragile heart. Raphael was in seduction mode. He maintained his stay at the hotel and for the first week Dahlia was truly happy with the arrangement. When the second week began to crawl by, loneliness slowly snuck in. The place seemed so empty without him during the day, but it was the nights that brought her the most grief. The huge bed sometimes felt as if it would swallow her but she couldn’t leave it. It was the one intimate link she still had with the man she loved.
Grief, pain and anger had consumed her so completely the last months that it blinded the hollowness of her surroundings in his absence. Now it was pure agony. Three weeks, four days and six hours without him and she was already feeling lost. How was she going to survive a lifetime without this man? She would miss Lauralyn. There was no doubt about that. The woman had brought her here and not once had she left her alone. Lauralyn Cavos had been at her side in the darkest of hours. Even now with her intentions to leave in two weeks, Lauralyn never once tried to pressure her to stay. That wise woman had generously said, “If I were you, I’d probably leave too.” A mother who didn’t defend her son’s wrong was one in a million and Lauralyn Cavos was that one.
Sitting on the window’s ledge, knees drawn up to her chest, palms wrapped around a cup of tea, Dahlia’s eyes travelled across the large living room. Scattered across the chairs and floor were the gifts her husband had been showering her with for the last couple of weeks. The six feet, white, teddy bear that ate up the love seat smiled back at her, a huge purple bow tie around its neck. Nearby, on a single couch there was another, this one smaller, its fur as brown as the chocolate bars in the basket on the coffee table. None of the presents were expensive, but each one carried its own measure of wealth.
The light aroma of roses, orchids and roses drifted up and around the room, and Dahlia couldn’t help but to slowly inhale. The soothing scent of nature’s finest calming her troubled soul. Sparing a glance at the wall clock, hanging over the fireplace, she noted the time. Seven fifty-eight p.m. Two more minutes and the phone would ring just as it did every night. It bothered her that she was actually anticipating his call. That was not supposed to happen.
At the first ring of the cordless phone at her side, her heartbeat accelerated. Across the screen his named flashed. Tampering down her anxiety, she let it ring three more times before she picked it up with trembling hands.
“Hello Raphael.”
“Buenas noches, mi corazón.” His voice vibrated through her ear, slivering down her spine to the tip of her toes, reawakening her body in that old familiar way. It reminded her so much of the first time he had spoken in the hotel room.
Intent on not falling for his charm, she responded in an even tone. “Good night.”
“Are you are well, mi amor?”
“Yes, I am fine, Raphael.”
“Bueno, is there anything you need?”
“No, Raphael, I am fine.” What
“¿Amor?”
“What, Raphael?” Dahlia knew she was being cold, but she wanted to keep her guard up—to keep her heart safe. She anticipated what he was going to say, but it shook her nevertheless when it came.
“I miss you.” What was she supposed to do with a statement like that? Yes, she missed him too, but what good would it do to say it? Missing him did not change the past. She didn’t answer.
“Can I come home, Amor? I promise I will not rush you. I will stay in the spare room.” The desperation in his voice brought tears to her eyes. She swiped at them with the sleeve of her sweater, but she still couldn’t answer.
“Princesa, por favor. I am only a man and there is only so much I can take. I miss you every day, mi amor.”
His accent was wreaking havoc with her senses.
Moistening her dry lips, she tried to put an end to his pleading, “Raphael, please don’t do this.”
“Do not do what, Pequeña? Do not beg for your forgiveness? Do not beg for your love? I am sorry, Corazón, I am afraid I cannot do that. I am a man on the edge of desperation willing to do anything to keep you with me.”
“This will not work, too much has happened, Raphael. And you know it.”
“Why, Amor? Give me one reason why this…why we cannot work!” Rafe demanded.
“Because I can’t trust you!” she shouted through the phone. “You were not there for me when I needed you the most. How I can ever trust you to be there in the future?” She sniffed, the tears rolling freely.
“Amor, please do not cry. You do not know what you do to my heart when you cry.” When he said things like this it was so hard to stay angry at him.
“You didn’t care about my tears weeks ago, but now you care?” Dahlia was being unfair, but she had been hurt.
“Amor…” He spoke softly.
She couldn’t do this. Talking to him was only making it harder. She had to end this. “Raphael I have to go,” she said before cutting the call. He was chipping away at her defenses and she couldn’t allow it. She needed to go.
****
So much for his plan! That had gone straight into the bin after the second week. Raphael thought he was stubborn but one thing he had learnt throughout this whole ordeal was that Trinidadian women were as stubborn as mules. Dahlia refused to budge. Almost five weeks and she was still angry with him. Nothing seemed to be working. He should have known better. His wife was not the type to swoon over presents and flowers. She hated jewelry, so buying her that would have only been a waste of time.
Then of course he tried the conversation thing. His father advised him that women loved to talk, so he called Dahlia every night attempting to keep a whole, meaningful conversation with—so much good that did. That plan had also gone south. Her responses were always brief and distant and in the end he had given up on that idea.
Finally, he had swallowed his pride and he had begged. Pleaded that she forgives him and allow him to come home. When she had broken down and began to cry he wanted nothing more than to kick himself. More pain was something he wanted to spare her at all cost. She had every right to say that he did not care about her tears weeks ago because he had been acting like a real bastard and not paid any attention to her or her feelings.
Now, with only two days left before she was gone, Raphael was on edge. His mother had none to gently inform him that Dahlia’s bags were already packed and her ticket was booked; one way. In one last desperate attempted he had asked her out to dinner. He has almost fallen off his seat when she said yes. A million questions zinged through his head when he hung up. Did she change her mind? Is that why she said yes? Was she going to stay?
However, tonight he was as nervous as he was on his first day of school. Walking around the balcony of his hotel room, he double checked everything. Tonight had to be perfect. If Dahlia knew how much he had spent putting together this dinner on short notice, she would have a fit. Raphael smiled at the thought. A woman who didn’t care about money! His wife was truly spectacular.
Outside the city was quiet, except for the few cars zipping by down below. Above, the moon lent its light to the dark night, the stars scattered across the expanse of the sky. Somewhere in the distant the quiet “hoot” of an owl could be heard. Dahlia loved owls. They scared the crap out of Rafe, but he would not admit that in a million years. Closing his eyes, he raised his head to the heavens. Por favor Dios, do not let me lose her, he whispered into the open air. Everything else had failed, so he resorted to faith. Maybe God could help him.
When the chimes of the doorbell filtered through, to the balcony, he froze. It was her. She was finally here! Casting one last glance over the beautifully decorated table and its surrounding he hurried to the door. Pausing at the entrance, he inhaled a few deeps breaths in an attempt to steady his nerves and heart. When he was sure his pulse was moving at normal speed and the saliva was actively flowing in his dry mouth, he opened the door and immediately felt as if he had been sucker punched.
A memory of the night they made love for the first time flooded through his mind. Much like this, she stood outside his hotel room door as beautiful as ever. He prayed that this night would end similar to that one. Anything else would be heartbreaking. He could not lose his wife.
“Amor…please, come in.” He whispered in a steady breath while he opened the door for her. As she filtered past him, her scent burned through his nostrils, scorching his senses. Closing his eyes, he savored it. Dahlia, his heart whispered. How could he possibly survive without her?
Dahlia was her own special woman. She didn’t follow trends. Tonight she wore a simple green spaghetti strap dress. The material that ended by her knee clung to her luscious body. There was nothing sexual about the way she was dressed, but Raphael knew better than any man the pleasures that were hidden behind that piece of cloth, pleasures that he had denied himself because of his stupid pride. Her mane of curls was piled on top of her head exposing the length of her neck. Her face was bare of make-up except for the usual hint of cherry gloss she always used to moisten those seductive lips. She looked every bit the silent seductress she was. Sex should be the last thing on his mind but he was only human.
“Come!” He commanded, ushering her out to the balcony.
Stopping short of the table she looked at him finally. In those beautiful brown eyes Raphael saw what he didn’t want to see. Rejection!
The gut wrenching words pounded at his brain. “This was a mistake. I should not have come here.”
“Please, do not say that! Let us have dinner and we can talk.” He tried to intervene, not wanting to have to listen to words she was uttering.
“No—no. There is nothing to talk about.” Wringing her hands nervously she cautiously presented her next words. “Raphael, I came here to say goodbye.”
“No! I will not accept that!” He huffed, pride making his voice harsher than he intended. “This is not the end of us, Dahlia. It cannot be the end,” his determined words floated through the open air.
“Please, Raphael; do not make this harder than it already is.” Dahlia pleaded, her troubled eyes beseeching him.
“What do you expect me to do, Dahlia? Just stand by and let you walk out of my life? I cannot allow you to do that. You are my wife.”
“I expect you to realize that this marriage was a mistake. You were not ready…we were not ready for this. We got caught up in our emotions and mistook lust for love.”
“Do not tell me what I feel, Dahlia. I am a man of thirty-one years. I know what lust is. What I feel for you is no lust. I am in love with you. Have been since the first day you fainted at my feet. So please, do not try to convince me otherwise.” He lashed out in anger. Her words were shredding his heart to pieces. He just wanted her to stop.
“Fine, well let me say it this way then. I do not love you, Raphael. I see that now.”
Her words felt like a stake penetrating his heart. That couldn’t be true. “Do not lie to me, Dahlia. You love me as much as I love you. It was there from the moment our eyes met on that beach. You may be angry at me now but do not lie. You are not a person that finds pleasure in hurting others. Please, do not start now.” Where are you now, God? Can you not see I am losing her? Why will you not help me?
She didn’t retaliate. At least not in the way he expected. When her sorrowful eyes collided with his the anger that was beginning to mount inside quickly ebbed away.
“Then if you love me as you say you do, Raphael, let me go.” Those were the words that crumbled his entire resistance. Dios, this was it. He could see it in the way she stood, in the reflection of her eyes. He had lost her. She was right. If he loved her he would let her go. He couldn’t do this to her anymore. To stand by and see this constant sadness in her was too much.
In a tortured voice he asked. “Is this what you really wish, Amor, to go away from me?”
Nodding at him, she whispered, “Yes.”
Amidst the pain of his heart shattering Raphael answered, “Then, it shall be.”
****
Today he was bidding farewell to his wife. He watched in silent torment as she completed the ritual of checking in her flight. The male attendant behind the counter saying something to her, a ridiculous grin plastered across his freckled face. Raphael wanted to break every bone in his body. She may not want him anymore but that did not change the fact that she was his wife, that he loved her.
Accepting that this was their end was so hard. Rafe had honestly believed they would last forever. Dahlia was going back home and she would be taking his heart with her. He was a man with great wealth and power. He could force her to stay. So many times since that failed dinner attempt he had thought about it. But he couldn’t do that to her. He had already caused her too much anguish.
Once he had proclaimed proudly that he would deny her nothing and to that he would stick. If this is what it took to make her happy then he would give it to her, even if it was at his expense. She came toward him, sadness clouding her beautiful features, weighing down his heart. What he would do, what he would give to see her smile again. Fearful of what he might do, he kept his hands buried in the pocket of his jeans. He wanted to beg her to stay but suppressed the urge to do so.
Looking up at him, she smiled that smile. The one that made his legs turn to jelly, the smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. The smile that made him love her more. Tears burned at the back of his eyes when her tiny palm brushed across his unshaven jaw. When she made to pull away, his hands grabbed hers and pressed it against his mouth. Kissing the soft palm, he swallowed the lump in his throat, one wayward tear escaping his moist eyes.
“Please, do not go, Amor…please.” He begged. Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip, but her tears still flowed.
