“Pretty drunk,” I say, taking the glass from Alejo who is watching this phone call on edge. “Think I’m about to get drunker.”
“Okay, well we all do stupid things when we’re drunk.”
I laugh bitterly. “Alejo isn’t a stupid thing and that’s not why I’m with him. I love him, Helen. I’m in love with him.” The more I say it, the crazier, the sillier, the happier, the better it sounds. “I fucking love him!” I yell into the night, and some random reveler in the distance yells back, “Fuck yeah! ¡Te quiero!”
Alejo now is just shaking his head, bewildered, a small smile on his lips.
“Thalia!” She practically hisses. “You have lost your bloody mind.”
“I haven’t. I really haven’t. I think I found my fucking mind, that’s what. I feel like a new woman, like my old self. Or maybe those are the same things now.”
More silence on her end. “Why are you so mad?” I ask, goading her now. “Why does it bother you?”
“Because it’s disgusting!” she says and I have to admit, it stings to hear that, a little barb in my chest. “It’s gross. You’re not acting sane, you’re acting like some lunatic. You think you’re in love with some boy? Of course you do, if he’s shagging you properly. But this is all going to fall flat, you know this. You’re just…I don’t know, you need to find your self-esteem somewhere else.”
“Am I embarrassing you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yes! You are. This is not the Thalia that I know.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a tear come to my eye, the kind of tear that usually shows up when I’m drunk and emotional. I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, then if I’m a new Thalia, I don’t think this version of myself wants to be friends with you anymore.”
“What?” Helen screeches. “You can’t do that! What are you, ten years old?”
“No, I’m forty. And old enough to know when a friendship does me more harm than it does me good. Goodbye Helen. Say hi to Stewart from me.”
And then I hang up.
I actually hang up.
I stare at the phone for a moment, all this adrenaline and alcohol rolling through me, my emotions being pulled in a million different directions.
I look up at Alejo and smile. “I guess I did it.”
I feel proud of myself that I finally told her off and ended it but…
And my smile falters.
It still kind of sucks.
I feel myself crumbling and then Alejo’s arms are around me, holding me tight against his coat. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says to me. “You did the right thing but you’re allowed to be upset. It’s never easy when you say goodbye to a friendship.”
I just nod, wiping away a lone tear. I don’t want to end our evening on a bad note, even if that phone call put my heart in a bit of a vice.
Thankfully, just being with Alejo is making me feel better.
“What do you want to do now?” Alejo asks. “Since you’re on a roll of being a badass.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
“Want to go eat the kind of food Mateo would disown me for? Want to go eat McDonalds?”
He sounds so excited, like he’s seriously contemplating something naughty, that I have to say yes.
“Sure, let’s do it. Start the New Year off on the right foot.”
“Everyone knows January 1st doesn’t count,” he says, pulling away and taking hold of my hand. “Come on, let’s go get a Big Mac and see where the night takes us.”
I know he’s trying to distract me but I couldn’t be more grateful for it.
We walk off into the night.
* * *
I haven’t felt this hungover in a long time.
And even though I just woke up, I have a feeling Alejo feels the same way.
Carefully, very carefully, I roll over in bed and see his feet aimed right at me. It takes me a moment for the scene to make sense, and I take another moment to actually appreciate his feet. I’m not a foot person, but considering Alejo kicks balls for a living, his feet look smooth and pampered.
Hmmm. I’ll have to ask him about that later.
My gaze travels down from his feet to the blanket where he briefly disappears and then, finally, I see his dark hair at the end, half off the bed.
I have no idea what caused us to fall asleep like this but something tells me it had to do with a lot of Cava and a lot of grapes.
Ugh. Even the thought of grapes makes me want to vomit.
I slowly get out of bed, careful not to disturb either Alejo, who is snoring lightly, or my head, which is pounding heavily. I do my business in the washroom, drink two cups of water at the sink, and splash copious amounts of cold water on my face.
I look like shit. My body is getting too old for this kind of stuff. I’m probably going to have a hangover for a few days, too, as extra punishment. Oh well, it was fun. At least all I have to do today is do absolutely nothing and…
Oh shit. I forgot that I’m supposed to meet Vera for New Year’s Day brunch together. When I told her I wasn’t going to their place for Christmas, she was adamant we see each other soon. At the time, I naively assumed I wasn’t going to be hungover and so brunch sounded fine. Now that Alejo is here, and I feel like ass, I’m not sure this is the best idea.
You’re going. You need friends.
Last night’s memories of my phone call with Helen come flooding back and my heart sinks. I know that it’s normal for friendships to end, for people to go their separate ways and outgrow each other. Even when someone is being a total dick, it still hurts to say goodbye to the friendship. There’s still some rejection and disappointment. There’s the loss of all the fun and memories you had together. It’s still a big change and it’s going to be a sore spot for some time.
Which is all the more reason I need to see Vera.
Besides, after everything that happened over Christmas with me and Alejo, I really need someone to talk to. Someone who might understand. Someone who might be happy for me.
I just hope I can trust her with this.
I look at my phone and send her a text.
Are we still on?
Since it’s nine a.m. and my body likes to punish me even further by waking up early after I’ve been drinking, I don’t expect a quick response but Vera responds fast.
With bells on. Wanna meet at The Toast Café in an hour?
I tell her yes and then I go back into bed, sliding in beside Alejo.
I decide to wake him up.
I start by tickling his feet.
Mumbled Spanish comes from beneath the covers.
Finally, he reaches back blindly to stop me, grabbing the side of my stomach and squeezing.
“Stop!” I cry out, erupting into giggles, trying to get away from his tickle fingers. “Stop or I’ll vomit on you.”
He straightens up and twists around on the bed to face me. “I’m into a lot of things, but I don’t think I’m into that.” Then he winces and presses his hand to his head. “Fuck.”
“I know,” I say. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to just have a pajama day with you and—”
“What’s a pajama day?” he interrupts.
“I don’t know, a day in which we do nothing at all and stay in our pajamas.”
“You mean, naked.”
“Yeah, pajama day, naked day, whatever.”
He flops on his stomach beside me. “That sounds like the perfect day.”
“I know. But I have to run off.”
“Where?”
“I’m meeting Vera for brunch. But I won’t be long.”
“You’re ditching me for my coach’s wife?” he asks but he doesn’t seem too upset about it.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, putting my hand in his hair and playing with his soft strands.
“I’m just having fun.” He gives me a kind smile. “Seriously, you need friends too. Especially after last night.”
“Thank you
for understanding.” I lean over and give him a kiss on his forehead.
He reaches out and tries to grab my legs but I get up, too quick for him.
“Are you going to stay here or go home?” I ask him as I start rifling in my closet for something clean to wear. Laundry took the backseat over the holidays.
“I’ll go home,” he says. “I need to do some training in my yard.”
I get dressed into a sweater and leggings, slip on some short boots and pull my hair back in a bun. No point even attempting makeup when my hands are a bit shaky.
“Okay, well, text me later,” I tell him, walking out of the bedroom and to the front door.
“Thalia, wait,” Alejo says.
I pause and turn to see him striding toward me, completely naked, his cock half-hard.
I blink up from the sight of it to his eyes as he cups my face in his hands and pulls me into a long, sweet kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips.
A wave of happiness crashes over me, swirling at my feet.
“I love you too,” I tell him, unable to stop from grinning.
I grab my purse and I’m out the door, feeling like I’m walking on a cloud.
It takes forever to grab an Uber, I guess because everyone feels like death today, but soon I’m being dropped off at the Toast Café. I already spot Vera by the entrance, sipping a giant mug of something.
“Hey,” I say to her, the restaurant busy and warm against the chill outside.
“Hey,” she says and I lean down to give her a quick hug before taking the chair across from her. “This is a good spot.” We’re right by the window so we have a view of the street, which is mainly people picking up garbage left from last night’s celebrations.
“So, how was your night?” I ask her because I know she’d ask me first otherwise. “Are you hungover?”
“Ugh,” she says, shaking her head and looking over the menu. “Bad enough that I’m not sure if I want their bottomless mimosas today or not.”
I laugh. “Oh, that bad?”
She grins at me. “We didn’t even go out. Mateo and I just got drunk by ourselves. Isabella, his ex, had Chloe Ann for the night, so we just drank a shit load of wine and Cava and tried to eat the grapes at midnight. Do you know about that tradition?”
I nod. “Yup.”
The waiter comes by and I order an eggs benedict with Iberian ham, plus a large black iced coffee. Vera switches her coffee up for mimosas.
“Feel free to drink some of mine,” she says, fixing her large eyes on me. “What did you get up to last night? I hope you weren’t at home alone, that would make me sad.”
“You know what’s funny is that I’ve spent a few New Years alone and they’re actually the best nights to stay in. There’s no pressure to go anywhere and you wake up hangover free.”
“So did you spend it alone?”
“No.” I pause. Here I go. “I was with someone.”
“Who? Oh, was it that Fabio guy?”
“Fabio?” My face scrunches up. “Oh, you mean Sergio. And no. I’m…I’m spoken for.”
That gives Vera a pause. “Spoken for? Well, I do declare,” she says in her best Scarlet O’Hara impression. “So who is the new gentleman who has spoken for you? Or gentlewoman. I don’t discriminate.”
“Well, the thing is…he’s not really new. I’m in love with him.”
“You’re in love with him?” Her eyes go even wider. “Well, fuck, now I’m intrigued AF. Who is he? When did you meet him? I mean, last I saw you was at the gala and I don’t think you mentioned anyone.”
“I don’t really want to say…”
She blinks at me in surprise. “Oh. Okay. Like a secret thing? Are you ashamed of him? Does he have a leg for an arm and an arm for a leg?”
I laugh, picturing that in my head. “No. No. It’s uh…yeah, it’s a secret. He’s…off-limits.”
She sits up straighter. “I know all about that and I want to hear more.”
“I know you do. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” I look her dead in the eyes.
“Yes,” she says.
“As in, you can’t tell my boss. Your husband. Mateo Casalles.”
“I swear to god. He doesn’t know everything. You’re allowed to have some secrets in life, you know.”
I study her face. She seems to be pretty honest.
I lean in closer. “If you tell, I’ll kill you. I know all the deadly pressure points on the human body.”
Vera stares right back. “I won’t tell.”
I lean back, satisfied. “Okay. Well, I’m in love with Alejo.”
She frowns. It takes her a minute before she exclaims, “Oh my god, Alejo Albarado!?”
“Shhh,” I hush her, looking around. The volume in here is loud and no one is paying us attention, but still.
“You’re in love with him?” she says, lowering her voice only marginally. “Does he know?”
“Yes, he knows,” I say, laughing. “Dare I say we’re in love with each other.”
“Are you sleeping together?”
“That part came first.”
“Holy shit. Since when?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. September?”
“What the fuck?” she says dramatically, then she bangs her fist against the table. “Damn it, I wish I could tell Mateo!”
“You can’t,” I remind her sharply. “You really can’t.”
“I know, I know. I just wish I could. And like, I mean in general, not just this. I wish he could just turn off his coach brain for one minute sometimes, you know? That job, it consumes him.”
“I’ll say the same for Alejo. They take their job to heart and it’s a lot of pressure.”
“So much pressure,” she says adamantly.
She pauses as the waiter drops off my coffee and her mimosa.
She has a sip, smiles at the drink like it’s her long-lost friend, and then continues. “When they were having their losing streak, oh my god. You did not want to be in our house. He was a miserable beast to be around. He was so low, so down, blaming himself. He really thought Jose was going to fire him.” She pauses. “And then they started winning again and he says it was because you fixed Alejo. He says he owes you.”
I shrug, swirling my straw around in the coffee, making the ice cubes rattle. “He doesn’t owe me. He’s the one that hired me to do that. I just did my job. And Alejo is integral to the team but he’s not the whole team.”
“I know, I’m just saying…maybe Mateo would understand about you two. I mean, what are you going to do? Are you going to stay a secret forever?”
I press my lips together before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess?”
“You know you can’t do that. It’s hard. Believe me, I’ve been there. It’s no fun.”
“It’s against the rules for us to be together. Mateo can fire me and he has legal ground.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Listen honey, I do know that. I’m married to him. I know him. He wouldn’t do that. Not unless someone makes him.”
“Like Jose.”
“Yeah.” She looks crestfallen. “I suppose the only way you can really be together is for one of you to sacrifice something.”
I get a chilled feeling in my chest, like it’s made of frosted glass. “And the question is, who does the sacrificing?” Then I quickly wave it away. “But that’s not here nor there.”
“But one day, it will be,” she says softly, looking at me with sad eyes. “Isn’t it best to think of it now?”
Boy. I didn’t think she was such a realist.
I sigh and shove a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah. But, I could never ask Alejo to give up his career. He loves the game, it’s his whole life and is special to him for so many reason, never mind the fact that it would be so wrong to everyone else who relies on him. It would be an affront to
the whole football world. He couldn’t switch clubs anyway, he’s under contract to Real Madrid for two more years. So, then there’s me.”
I stab my straw at an ice cube over and over. “But if I give up my career for him…where does that leave me? What does that say about how hard I’ve worked and the shit I’ve had to do to get to this position? You know, it’s like when a man gives up his career for a woman, it’s called romantic. But if a woman gives up her career for a man, she’s called pathetic.”
“Or, it could be expected of you,” Vera points out, sucking on the orange slice from her drink. “But don’t get me started on that. We’re women. We’re born with strikes against us. We upset people with any and all of the choices we make. So we might as well not give any fucks.”
“Well, obviously I’ve already made some decision just by choosing to be with Alejo, I guess we’ll have to wait long enough to find out if it was the right one.”
“Look, Thalia,” Vera says, tapping her red nails along the table. “There are people who will understand and people who won’t. I hate to sound cliché, but you really have to look inside and find out what matters to you the most and fuck what everyone thinks. If either choice is going to suck, ask yourself which one sucks less. And make sure Alejo is a part of this process. Don’t leave him out. Communicate. Find a way together.”
“I just want to keep being happy,” I admit. “For once I’m happy, I’m really happy. I’ve never known that this life, this love, that it could be this way. This good. I don’t want that to change, Vera. I don’t want to lose him or the person I’ve become.”
“I know,” she says after a beat, her eyes starting to water. “Some people will tell you that love isn’t worth risking your career for. Some will tell you that love is worth risking everything for.”
“And you? What would you tell me?”
She gives me a half-smile. “You know what I think. The bigger the love, the greater the risk. But love, real, true, can’t-live-without-you love? That’s worth everything in the universe.”
Shortly after that, we’re served with our brunch, and yet I can’t get her words out of my head.
The bigger the love, the greater the risk.
Our love is shaping up to be the biggest risk of all.
The Younger Man: A Novel Page 32
