Hector nodded and immediately started to clean up the gym. Samuel tilted a curious eyebrow at me.
“I, for sure, thought he would have locked you up in this mansion, allowing you no outside contact.”
I frowned. “That’s not who he is.”
Samuel grunted and smiled at my real meaning. That’s not who he was, at least not with me. “That’s not who I am either. I would have burned this place down a long time ago.”
A sound emitted from Hector and if I hadn’t heard it thousands of times within the last three months, I would have never taken it for what it actually was: an amused laugh. “But to answer your question, yes, I do work. I have two jobs.”
“For what reason?” he asked, bewildered.
“Because I love them,” I told him honestly.
Samuel walked over to me, grabbed my arm and escorted me from the room. “I can’t believe you work for Matt.”
I laughed. “Yes. You know, you might be his doppelganger.”
He visibly shuddered. “Yeah. No. Has he never hit on you?”
I scrunched my nose up at him and he took that as answer enough.
A laugh boomed out of him, his shoulders shaking. “I could see you giving him a run for his money. Is that where you have to go today? I wouldn’t mind pestering him.”
I only nodded, grabbing my shoes and slipping my feet in them.
“Dad, I’ll take Annie. You can stay here and be broody.”
Hector walked into the room, heading straight toward us. He grabbed his keys from the dish and smacked Samuel on the back of the head. “Keep dreaming, mijo. You can barely lift five hundred pounds without wheezing. I don’t trust you to take care of Annie.”
He was calling me Annie. I remember the first time he called me beautiful in his mother tongue, how it raised my hackles and now here I was dying to hear it just one last time. I ignored the searing pain in my chest.
“I can take care of myself,” I said, meaning to sound strong and sure but my voice came out strained and soft.
Samuel walked away when Hector turned around to look at me. I wasn’t expecting him to look at me the way he was looking at me. Like nothing changed, like I was still the best part of his day.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.
Then he, too, walked away from me.
The next couple of days followed in suit. Samuel kept his promise to me. While all three of us were in the house, Samuel ate up Hector’s time. The only time Hector and I were even in the same room was when we were eating dinner or the two of them drove me to work and picked me up. On the days that I didn’t have to work all of my jobs, I’m cooped up in Hector’s study, alternating between crying and writing. Turns out, I was exceptional at both. I skipped dinner the past two nights, unable to fake it. Unable to fake that I was happy. Unable to fake that my heart wasn’t being stepped on when Hector and Samuel made plans. I had no plans with Hector, and I never would. I wondered if Samuel would keep in contact. Or Nolan. Would it be like I never existed in Hector’s life? Was he okay with that? Would he be happy with that?
Hector came up into the room for his shower, not uttering a word to me as he passed my sprawled-out body on the bed. As soon as the water turned on, I clutched the only thing, other than my heart, that I was leaving behind. I had written him an entire notebook of poems. Within the hundred or so pages, I poured my heart out to him. I wasn’t sure if he would ever read them or if he would just toss them into the fire watching the pages turn to smoke. I just knew I needed him to know that he changed my life. He saved my life and I wouldn’t be able to thank him enough for these past three months.
The bed dipped and through blurry eyes, I saw Samuel. He reached out, brushing my tears away. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He was leaving tomorrow. I was leaving tomorrow.
I sat up, wiping the rest of my tears away and slapping my cheeks to snap me out of it. I pulled open the closet and I grabbed one suitcase and Samuel grabbed the other. We walked downstairs and placed both in his room with the rest of his luggage.
“I don’t want to do this, but I’m not the one with the choice here,” I whispered to Samuel before we entered Hector’s study. I set the book on top of his desk. On the front cover was the only picture of us I had, from the night he took me out for the first time. I forced him into a picture once I promised him it would be for my eyes only. Underneath read the title: YOU, ME, & HER.
“If I’m being honest, I don’t know if this is the right thing or not. He changed my life, Samuel. He saved me, but he won’t let me save him. He wanted me to figure out who I was going to be after I killed him, and I did. I want to help women like my mother stand on their own two feet. I want to help children who had to witness the stuff I had to witness as a kid.”
I let my fingers trail over the book of my heart once more before shutting the light off and hugging Samuel. “I want to love your father,” I whispered into his neck. “But I can’t do that if he doesn’t want me to. So, I’m going to help women and maybe, that’ll be enough to not focus on the fact that I let the love of my fucking life go without a fight.”
His arms tightened around me in a way that I wished his father’s would, instead of me being sand in his hands, falling effortlessly away from him.
* * *
“Where is it that you’re taking me?” I asked Samuel as he drove right past the hotel I told him to drop me off at.
He looked over at me, a rare frown on his face. “You’re not living at a hotel, Annie.”
“No,” I said slowly. “I’m staying at a hotel until I can put a security deposit down on an apartment.”
We were already outside of New Hazle and deep into the city. “Why, when I have an apartment that you can have?”
“And it has the Rivera name attached to it,” I questioned.
He shrugged from the driver’s side. “Yeah. So?”
So, I’m not a Rivera and I never will be, I thought but didn’t say. “Will you accept rent?”
“Nope,” he said, pulling over and parking his car.
“Then I can’t accept,” I insisted. He ignored me, getting out of the car and collecting my bags from the trunk.
“Samuel,” I hissed when he walked past me and headed toward a white building and retrieved a key from his pocket. “I can’t accept this,” I tried again.
After he set my suitcases inside of the door, he grabbed my hands and then pulled me inside, too, before closing the door.
“You have three months left in your agreement with him. Honor the rest of the time and stay here.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if my dad doesn’t come for you before your time is up, he’s not the man that I thought he was and frankly, he’s not the man you’ve spent the previous months with either.”
“I’m not holding out hope,” I lied, and based on the look Samuel shot me, he knew it, too.
“It’s just a studio apartment, but it’s one of the bigger ones you’ll ever see.” I looked around at the empty space because that’s literally all it was. It had white walls and a hardwood finish on the floors and countertops. The only thing in the entire room was a king-size bed, sheets bunched up in the middle. Samuel scratched his head and looked at me almost bashfully. “You might want to get rid of the bed and maybe bleach the countertops and the walls.”
I stared at him for a long moment until I realized his meaning. “This is your sexcapade apartment?”
He grinned, no longer shy, and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t bring anyone to the house for safety reasons and the girls I tend to bring here are good girls. They tend to not want their parents to hear them screaming my name.”
I laughed. “Bleach the entire apartment. Got it.”
“Well, I don’t want to miss my flight but call me if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded.
“He will come for you, Annie,” he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on my fore
head. “And when he does, make him work for it.”
He turned to go, but I reached out for him. “I’m not going to wait for him forever, Samuel. I deserve more from life, he’s the one who taught me that. Three months and I’m gone.”
He nodded tightly, squeezed my hand and I was all alone. I was well attuned to the feeling but for the first time in my life, it felt different. I wasn’t just passing time, waiting for the right moment to go in for the kill. There was no revenge and there were no plans. It was just me, finally letting go of one of the longest chapters of my life. It was me being brave enough to flip the page and see what the next chapter would bring.
Before even thinking about unpacking my suitcases, I looked up different furniture stores in the city in search of a new, sterile bed. The first store I went into had the softest bed and I was sold immediately when they said they would get rid of my current bed and deliver my new one in no less than four hours. I took the city bus down to the grocery store and bought enough food to last a few days, i.e. different flavors of cereal and ice cream so I could eat my feelings, and the cleaning products I needed. And maybe I happened to pick up a few poetry books from the limited selection they had.
When the sun set and dusk turned into darkness, I could no longer avoid the bed I had been excited about buying hours ago. Because I would be sleeping alone. There was no my side or his side. It was just one. All mine. Only mine.
I climbed in under the white comforter I purchased from a boutique down the street accompanied by a pint of caramel chocolate ice cream. Only then did I stop and think about him.
I wondered how he felt when he realized I was gone. I wondered if he searched every crevice of that mansion of his, hoping to find me. I wondered if he found the book of poems I left for him. I wondered what he would do with them when he did.
It hurt to not be with him.
It hurt to think about him.
It hurt to love him.
But regardless of the hurt, I wouldn’t change a moment between us. He showed me a world I was blind to. He forced me to take a deep look at myself, of who I could be if I let go of my past. I wasn’t really sure if I believed in God or even fate, but it felt like Hector was a godsend, a gift personalized for me to change the course of my life. And he did, he hijacked the hell out of my life.
I gave up on sleep before midnight struck. No matter which way I laid or whether the blankets covered my body, my eyes wouldn’t close.
I tossed the blankets off of me and switched on the lights. It had been only a few months since I lived in the heart of the city, but I could barely remember what it felt like.
The horns of cars. The loud drunkenness of pedestrians. The city lights. It was beautiful in its own chaotic way. But Hector spoiled me. He made me love a soft Latin beat and strong and gentle hands holding me in a way I knew I was both cherished and safe.
I turned on my phone, tapping on the music app, and let Latin R&B fill the small space of the new apartment. Sitting in the middle of the floor, I started to unpack my bags. Since the space was a studio, I didn’t have a closet. Most of my clothes had to sit folded on the counter space until the mobile hanging rack I ordered was delivered.
I went about folding each piece of clothing as the soft Spanish sounds eased some of the tension in my body. I had no idea what they were talking about, my skills too rusty to follow along completely. If I had to guess, every word was about heartbreak because it was the only thing right now I could connect to.
My hands gripped around a card. I frowned, retrieving it from the bag. It was an ID card. The one I had made months ago. The one that belonged to Olive James.
I clutched the ID to my chest and fell back against the wooden floor, not even flinching when the coolness hit my bare skin.
I should have been Olive James. I should have been her for four months. Annie Miller should be dead.
A breath of air escaped me. I didn’t want Annie to die. The thought of the last few months not happening sounded nothing short of a nightmare.
I was realizing that just like anything else, knowing who you are took effort. You weren’t just born and knew exactly who you were going to be. Like anything else, you had to open yourself up like a book, study the pages, commit them to your memory for a chance at knowing yourself. It took my twenty-two years, having my world blown to pieces, almost making the biggest mistake of my life, and falling in love for me to realize that.
It had been just a week since I left Hector’s and Samuel brought me here. In those few days, I had started to fill up the studio until I felt like if someone who knew me (the list was very limited) were to walk in the front door they would know that this was my home.
My bed rested on the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space by a few stairs. Directly across from the bed, in between two tall windows overlooking the city, I had one of the workers from the appliance store mount the TV so I could watch it while I was in bed. In front of each window sat identical reading nooks. I set up two small rugs on each side of my bed that I was embarrassed to admit I might have fallen asleep on a time or two. On one of the two empty walls, I placed my matching white desk and bookshelf. On the opposite wall, I broke down and bought a small dresser and a clothing rack.
Even if a part of me didn’t feel complete and even though I was sad more hours of the day than not, I was happy with my little apartment.
A double soft tap came sounded at the door and I whipped my head in its direction, my heart picking up like I was in the midst of running a marathon.
“It’s not him,” I whispered to myself, knowing exactly who was at the door.
I took a deep breath before opening the door. I was greeted by two pairs of beaming smiles. Rachel and Jessica stood outside, Rachel offering me a small smile and Jessica’s attention already focused on the space behind me. She all but shoved the housewarming basket she brought into my hands before pushing me aside and taking in the sight of my very own first apartment.
Rachel simply shrugged as if that explained Jessica’s behavior and it kind of did.
“Oh. My. God. It’s so pretty,” Jess said, her eyes taking in every inch of the small space.
Rachel laughed beside me. “It’s definitely you,” she murmured, stepping past me but not before squeezing my shoulder.
I averted my eyes and tried my best to swallow the lump in my throat. Four months ago, I didn’t even know who I was past what to put on some government forms and now I could make an entire apartment, albeit a small one, match who I was.
“You have Eliza’s new book,” Jessica screeched, said book in her hands.
“Yes,” I said, walking toward her and taking it from her tight grip.
Did she not know that books must be held with infinite gentleness? After all, it was a work of art. You wouldn’t just clutch a painting that way, now would you? I smoothed my hand over Eliza’s portrait on the front cover. It was the same image I was first struck by, before even realizing who she was. Now that I knew her story and not just what she shared in her poems, the picture of her was even more breathtaking as was the title. I Am a Woman.
I found a copy of it in my locker at the shelter last week and that night when I got home, I snuggled up in my bed with my eyes glued to her words. I read it in two hours. I cried for two hours. The woman was talented and I absolutely ate up everything she had to offer. Over the past couple of days, we would leave notes for each other since she worked the night shift and I was usually gone before she came in. Usually, it was just me gushing over her and her being bashful about how great she really was.
“Is it autographed?” Jessica asked.
I shook my head. “No. I’m just happy that I got it before it even releases. It’s so good.”
“Do you want her to sign it? I’m sure she will if you ask her,” Jessica said.
“I’m scared to talk to her. She is literally a superhero.”
Rachel bumped my shoulder, a question in her eyes. I knew, from years ago whe
n I first met them, that neither of them had dealt with domestic violence or sexual assault or had to witness someone close to them go through it.
“We all speak our own language and only those who walk a similar path can pick up on the linguistics. I haven’t been through what she had to experience, but my mom did and I was a shadow that couldn’t get the image out of my head. I still can’t. Her sharing her story so openly and so beautifully, let me see my mom in a different light, like a fogged window becoming clear for the first time. So, yes, to me she’s Wonder Woman and I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Rachel squeezed my bicep. “You inspired her three years ago with a story of your own and now she is the one inspiring you,” Jessica whispered shakily, tears already filling her eyes.
“Don’t start that shit,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “I’ve officially declared this apartment a no-cry zone.”
Jessica sniffled her laugh. Rachel tipped up the bottle of wine she had in answer and we followed her into the kitchen.
“Do you have a corkscrew because I don’t.”
Rachel whipped one out of her purse. “I figured you didn’t.”
I brought three glasses from the cupboard and placed them in front of each of us. Rachel poured us some and like any respectable women, we all kicked off our shoes, climbed in my bed, and talked. Rachel talked about her husband. Jessica talked about a woman she had been on three dates with and was ready to get naked with. Then all eyes turned to me.
I wasn’t one to share. Usually, I had nothing to share. But they met Hector and when it came to him, I didn’t think; I just acted. “Hector and I,” I whispered, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. I took a swig of wine for the courage to say the words aloud. “Whatever we were, we aren’t anymore.”
My words were met with two identical frowns. “What do you mean?” This came from Jessica whose head was tilted in confusion.
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