Clear as Day #2
After a quick drive, we arrived in Condado.
“Do you like it here?” Esteban asked as we strolled down the beach where we’d met over a year ago and where I’d said yes to a life with him.
I took a deep breath, letting the salty air clear away the city atmosphere that always suffocated me. Here I could let go of all the stress that had built up day by day.
That broken part of my soul was finally mending.
The time lost came back minute by minute.
I closed my eyes, pushing forward memories of us doing exactly this.
Basking under the afternoon sun until the day became night.
Watching that last ray of light vanish behind the horizon, knowing that somewhere a new day was beginning while ours ended.
Taking this time in nature made us appreciate life in a way many had forgotten. Each day was a gift to be grateful for, and each moment we had together was a treasure.
I squeezed his hand. “I love it here.”
We walked to a quiet spot. I faced him, then threw my shoes in the sand. He smiled and did the same.
He grasped the side of my neck and traced his thumb over my mouth, pushing it slightly in. I swiped it with my tongue, circling the tip as I would his thick shaft.
Esteban shoved his thumb inside. His chest rose. His eyes darkened, and I, with a hunger that was deeply rooted inside me, sucked it hard. A grunt escaped him, then his mouth was on me. His tongue, ever dominating, met mine, and I imagined it inside me, preparing me to take all of him.
I trembled at the image and gripped the back of his head to pull him closer. I opened to him and let him take over the way only he knew how to.
My hard cock strained between us. “Fuck.” I groaned.
Esteban chuckled. “Fuck indeed.” He closed his eyes and let his temple touch mine. “God, I missed you.”
He opened his eyes and straightened. “You know. Since Thursday.”I smiled, covering his cheek with my palm. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to hide anymore.”
Esteban widened his eyes, tilting his head slightly. “What do you mean?”
I grinned. “I painted you last night.”
He stiffened.
I went on my tiptoes and kissed him. “I remember you.” I pulled away in time to see his eyes glaze.
“Last night, I painted you again and again. Your smiling face. Us scooting around Old San Juan. Lounging on our sofa. Watching movies. I painted our sunsets. Your body against mine. I remembered everything.”
A sob escaped him, and a tear slipped down his cheek. He slid his arms around me and held me close. “I missed you, babe.”
I giggled as my feet left the ground. “I missed you too.”
When he put me down, he kissed my hand fervently, then tugged at my hair and angled my head so I was fully at his mercy. Then he kissed me, really kissed me, as if we were alone in the world.
I could taste his tears as they mingled with mine.
“Let’s go.” It was not a request but a command.
My whole body shivered in anticipation.
He helped me put my shoes on, then his own and, without saying a word, took me to our apartment. No words were exchanged as we rode the elevator to the tenth floor, and he retrieved his keys. The pride flag I’d painted on a canvas hung on the door, welcoming our guests.
He led me inside, and my whole world came crashing in.
My paintings were hung around the house like a gallery, ones Esteban could have sold but kept instead.
A tripod with the Maunabo painting rested next to our window. My art supplies were scattered just as I’d left them.
A tear escaped me when I saw the photo behind our black sofa—a picture taken by Raúl on our engagement. There were countless pictures around the house, each guarding a precious memory.
Then it came back, the night of the accident. A night I still hadn’t remembered.
I recalled everything. The ring. The margarita. The giddiness and the way my heart raced as I imagined Esteban’s face when I asked him to marry me too. I wanted it to be special. I wanted to surprise him.
My pulse became erratic when I remembered Esteban screaming on the opposite sidewalk. The car blazing through the streets. The impact. Then nothing.
I clutched my chest. The memory hit me like a train, and I doubled over. My hands trembled aggressively, and when I came to, his blue eyes were level with mine.
His gaze turned tender, and he led me to the sofa. “Love, are you all right?”
“I lost you. Just now it all came back…the accident. I remembered your face when you screamed my name.” The lump in my throat threatened to drown me in sorrow. “God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot you. I’m sorry you’ve been alone for so long.”
He raked my hair back and hugged me close, stroking my back lovingly. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It was my fault. I should have gone with you. I should have stopped it.”
I kissed him, then cupped his face with both hands. “It wasn’t your fault. It just…happened.”
He touched my cheek, as if memorizing my features. “God. I can’t believe you’re back.” His voice cracked. “I feared you’d never get back to me. That I’d lost you forever. Then you walked into the café, and my world filled with color. Each of your visits gave me hope.”
I smiled. “You were always with me. In my dreams. Loving me. Talking to me. I just couldn’t find your face. Then I found the bookmark, the one you left in the book, and I had to find out. I had to know if the man who haunted my dreams was real. It brought me to you.”
Esteban raised an eyebrow, mirth all over his face. “So I haunted your dreams.”
I punched his chest playfully, and we both laughed.
Silence fell.
I caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry about what my father did to you.”
Esteban took my hands in his. “I called him. Your parents had the right to know. But I never thought…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “They revoked me as your healthcare proxy, then he got a restraining order.”
I brushed my fingers over his. “I know. Dad told me about the fight. What happened?”
Esteban moved his thumb across my palm. “It doesn’t matter.”
I lifted our hands and kissed his knuckles. “It does. Please tell me.”
He shook his head. “That day your father came to tell me he’d revoked the proxy. That he’d make sure I never saw you again.” His voice broke.
I tensed. There had to be more.
I squeezed his hands.
“You have no idea how he was to me…to all of us.”
My chest constricted. “To all of you?”
His eyes met mine. His features hardened. “He’s a homophobe. His remarks when Eva and Steph came hurt them. And Raúl had to endure it too. I didn’t care. Not until he promised he’d make sure to keep me out of your life. He said I turned you into a faggot, and I…I lost it.”
A moment passed before I noticed I was gripping Esteban’s hands too hard. How much had Dad bullied them to make Esteban lose his shit? “Fuck, baby. I’m sorry.”
Esteban slumped forward. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen for it. It was just what he needed to push me away for good. The order included you, your family, and the premises, but it didn’t keep me from visiting you.”
I frowned. “But how did you manage?”
“It was thanks to Carmen. She sneaked me in so I could visit and read my poems to you, hoping my voice would reach you. One day, your father came by and found me there. It was the last time I saw you, about seven months ago. I wanted to see you, but with the restraining order in effect, there was no way. But two weeks ago, when the order was revoked, I went looking for you, but you’d vanished. ”
I sighed. “Dad got me an apartment.”
Esteban nodded. “I know. I went to your parents’ house and left a note.
Your mom explained that you had moved out and that I shouldn’t look for you because you needed to remember on your own.
I went to see Dr. Echevarría, and she said the same—that no one should force those memories on you. It was torture.”
I squeezed his knee.
He stroked the space on my hand I always brushed with my thumb. “Where is it?”
A pang hit my heart at the pain in Esteban’s voice. “Dad threw it away.”
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll get you another one.”
I stroked the side of his face, remembering the smile he gave me just before the accident. The ring I was about to give him was lying on the asphalt. The blood pooled around me. It was supposed to be a happy day.
I closed my eyes. The pain was too close to the surface, as if it all happened yesterday.
No. Don’t dwell on things you can’t change. Focus on today.
During the past few months, I’d found that talking to myself when I was about to lose it helped me keep my sanity. Amnesia was a nightmare. The knowledge that you’d lost part of your life did a number on you, and I had found a way to endure it.
“Are you all right?” Esteban asked, getting me out of that reverie.
I grinned. “I am now.”
We made love like there was no tomorrow, letting all that longing turn into raw passion. When he sank into me, I was home.
No one would tear us apart again.