Chapter 25
“I need to change my clothing.” Of course, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is something dumb. The dress, the heels, and all of this doesn’t matter right now.
“I know my son,” snaps Mrs. Kral with her signature arrogant tone of voice. “We don’t have time for that, he’s going to pull himself together in five minutes and then he’s going to go looking for you.”
I let out a heavy sigh, dammit, she’s right.
“The house entrance is guarded. How can I leave without anyone noticing?”
At least I say something more intelligent this time. I still can’t fully process what I’ve learned in the last fifteen minutes, but it doesn’t matter, I’ll have time when I’m at home—in real life—and alone.
“My car is parked by the garage, if you go out the kitchen door and from there to the mud room, you will find a small door that leads to the side garden. I’m sure the alarm isn’t activated. No one ever remembers that door.” It seems she had it all planned out, knowing more about this house than me, and I’ve been living here for the last few weeks. “You will have to bend down and walk carefully. The door where I parked is only a few yards away and it isn’t well lit.”
This sounds like a solid plan. I have to walk quickly and quietly, so I take off my shoes. I really want to leave them here, but they’re all I’ve got right now and there is no way they will let me enter the airport barefoot.
There are things that I can’t take with me, so I take the cell phone that Lionel bought for me and leave it on the kitchen counter, in a place where he won’t miss it, he will no doubt see it as soon as he enters. I give one last look at the space with nostalgia, remembering the many times that we cooked together, or just sat in front of the bar talking about everything and nothing.
I told him about my dreams, about my past. About my life.
In return, I only received lies.
Following the instructions, I find myself crouched to the side of the luxurious car, while she talks to someone at the entrance. Surely distracting one of the security guards. Suddenly the car alarm beeps, letting me know the alarm is off, which allows me to open the back door.
I get in very carefully. The interior smells of new and freshly polished leather. Also, everything is spotless, like the vehicle just left the lot.
A couple of minutes later, Mrs. Kral gets into the car and starts the engine by pressing a button. “Stay there crouched until we get out of the driveway. Cameras have been installed around the perimeter.” She speaks carefully and almost without moving her mouth, surely not to raise suspicions.
My heart is pounding in my chest and the turns we take are making me nauseous. By the time Mrs. Kral tells me to get up, I thank the heavens, because I’m ready to stick my head out the window and vomit.
I settle into the seat, my hands are on my stomach like that would help calm it down. In silence and in the dark, I let the feelings that press against my chest come out. I’m angry, so much so that I could hit someone. It would be a first.
How could I be so stupid?
How did I not notice that there were too many changes?
They look the same, but they are totally different people. Now, I understand Lionel’s reaction when he saw me in the hospital, next to his bed when he woke up.
The questions for which I never found an answer. His silence…
And I was so stupid to let myself get entangled in that web of lies, to fall again for a man I never knew.
Everybody knew. Everyone knew that our marriage, that our relationship was a lie.
It’s like a dagger that stabs me multiple times, making me bleed.
I was deceived, and yet they think I’m the one lying.
And the big question remains, who the hell did I marry?
Who is the man I met in Carrollton a few months ago?
Mrs. Kral stops the car in front of a 24-hour convenience store.
“I need to buy your ticket,” she explains. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I have a plan.”
Good, because I haven’t thought about it much, only that I need a place to feel safe. Return home, to my safe haven.
Go back to my people, to my real family.
After this, she gets out of the car. “Wait for me here,” is the only instruction I get before she closes the door and walks to the store entrance.
About ten minutes have passed when she comes back carrying a plastic bag, which she immediately throws in my direction.
“Here, put this on,” she almost growls in my direction. “You can leave the dress and everything else in the bag, I’ll take care of returning it.”
I want to tell her the dress is mine, that I bought it with my own money, but it would be useless, it is not worth fighting over.
Inside the bag she gave me I find black leggings, a gray T-shirt with the California state logo, and flip-flops. This will be more than enough.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
Mrs. Kral gives me some time to change my clothes, then leaves the parking lot without saying another word. The other headlights illuminate the great highway, it must be at least six lanes, even at this time, and on Saturday, there is a lot of traffic, so it takes us a long time to get to where the letters LAX adorn the airport entrance.
“Listen,” she says when she’s parked at the curb, in front of the entrance’s glass doors. “Your flight leaves in just over an hour, you will have to go through security quickly. As soon as you enter, use this number.” With that said, she hands me a piece of paper on which she has scribbled something. “You can print the boarding pass on one of the machines. I have bought two tickets, the first in your name, a flight to Puerto Rico, which connects in Miami. That is going to buy you some time. The other, a flight to Louisville in the name of Carolina Lafayette. Once you pass the security control, nobody will ask for identification. Use the ticket in your name to get through security, the other to get on the plane.”
Well, Mrs. Kral has a brilliant mind. I would have never thought of this. She puts something between my trembling hands. I realize it’s a few hundred dollar bills.
“I hope I never have to see you again,” she says, and I want to answer that the feeling is mutual, but I keep those words on the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t need your money, ma’am.” I try to return it to her, but she pulls her hands away quickly, like it was burning coal. Well, I don’t want it either, so I toss the money into the front seat.
“You can’t blame me,” she adds, glancing at the windshield, adjusting her lustrous blonde hair behind her ear. “I only want what’s best for my son.”
That earns an agreement, it’s something I understand and can respect. If I were in her shoes, maybe I would do the same.
Without saying another word I get out of the car, and hear her leave at full speed, so much so that the tires make that annoying little sound. I don’t have time to waste, so I head to the machines, which don’t give me much of a problem. Passing security is another story, because the line is long and when I finally get to where the first officer is, he looks at me with suspicion.
I cry again when I hear him call me by the name that is supposed to be mine. Stella Kral. It all sounds so false.
I don’t even know who I am anymore.
I don’t have any luggage. In my hand, only my small purse in which I carry my driver’s license and the little money I had left after my day of shopping, so I don’t waste much time going through the full body scanner, however, to get to the door indicated by the ticket, I need to run. I’m almost the last to board. I barely reached my seat when the flight attendant announces through the airplane sound system that the door has been closed.
I let out a sigh of pure relief, I’m going to be free.
I’m on my way to find myself.
For better or worse.
???
It’s six in the morning local time when we finally land in Louisville. The sun has risen and I’m grateful that I was able to escape. My neck hurts, but nothing compares to the dull pain in my chest. Although I’ve slept on the flight—a miracle, really—I feel exhausted. I can’t wait to be home, let my hair down and have a good bath.
Down my cheeks are the traces of mascara that the makeup artist carefully applied yesterday, even though I’ve tried to clean myself with the napkins that the stewardess discreetly put in my hands.
I raise my hand to call for a taxi. I know this will be expensive, but there is no way to contact anyone to come and pick me up. And the truth is, the last thing I want right now is to face questions from Valerie or my mother. First, I have to solve the puzzle that my life has become, and I need to do that by myself.
Without interference or interruptions.
The taxi driver warns me that it’s going to be more than a hundred dollars to take me home. To calm his nerves I hand him a couple of crumpled Ethans and we are on our way.
With each mile that we continue advancing, the current calms down, like an avalanche waiting to break loose, in silence, but it is still there, waiting for the moment when a small stimulus will destroy everything. I look absentmindedly at the trees, the same road I’ve traveled hundreds of times, everything seems the same. But inside a lot has changed.
My world has changed, completely and forever. And not only did I not notice, but I left the doors to my heart wide open before the storm arrived.
The town is peaceful when I get there, so different from the hectic pulse of Los Angeles. Here everything feels slow and calm. Here I feel like I can breathe again. It’s Sunday, so until it’s time for church, Carrollton will be asleep.
I enter the house using the key that I always have hidden under the flowerpot in the corner of the small porch. I almost screamed with relief to find it. Only Valerie knows that it’s there and I’m lucky that she didn’t move it.
Upon entering the living room, my eyes immediately go to our wedding photo next to the television in the wooden frame that we bought after the ceremony. How many lies can I find in a single image? I go to where it is and throw it against the wall with the little force I have. The glass shatters immediately.
Perfect, now my heart and memories are on par.
The pain is so much that I can feel it all over my body, disabling myself, breaking my bones, tearing my skin.
In the end, I decide that I’m not going to gain anything by staying here wallowing in my misery, I have to do something to defend myself. I’m not going to spend my days rotting in a cell for something I didn’t do. I take a notepad and pen from the drawer. I need to write down some things. And I need something to help me loosen the ball of nerves, to alleviate the pain of the razors that are slicing me up inside.
Wine. That’s it. Somewhere it’s already five in the afternoon, right?
I open a bottle of red and without bothering to find a glass, I take a long drink. It kicks me in the stomach. I embrace the discomfort, and at least it distracts me from the other pain.
I sit down on the sofa and put my feet up on the coffee table. Angrily, I wipe my tears as I begin to write down what has happened in the past few months. Things I’m sure can be easily checked. In another column, those I have questions about, and in the last column, the ones that are a total lie.
I look at the ring on my left finger that I thought meant a promise. It doesn’t matter anymore. I take it off and leave it there, carelessly. It doesn’t matter what happens to it. I have lost more valuable things.
Now I’m wanted by many, but one thing is for sure, none of them want me, the way I long for.
The paper is wet with my tears, the ink has run in some places, I’ve had to cross it out several times and start again. This is like a map of my life, in case the police come looking for me, I will know exactly how to defend myself.
Here in Carrollton, everyone knows me, they know who I am, what I’ve done all my life. No one knew about Lionel until that man appeared a few months ago. He was so smart, making sure everyone I knew was aware we were together and in love. Our relationship was quite public, as well as the touches I considered romantic at the time.
Stupid girl, stupid, stupid girl.
It was so easy for him to come here, and find a silly little small-town girl and make her part of his plan.
Afterward, what was his plan? When I was a millionaire widow, was he going to finish me off too?
And what was all that about wanting to get me pregnant?
Was he going to kill our child too?
My head is spinning, as is my stomach. I run to the bathroom and barely manage to get there.
I stay there on the floor, with my head resting on the wall behind me, with no strength to move.
Damn, I should have brought the wine with me. I could use another drink. Through the small window I see as the sun begins to rise and cast its rays—time continues its course.
The world doesn’t stop, everything continues, moving forward. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or if it’s actually happening. Boots I’ve seen many times before enter my line of sight and I hear his voice.
He found me. My heart speeds up, or stops. I’m not even sure. Fear invades me, and my breath gets caught in my throat. I should’ve thought about it more before I came back. Maybe the ticket to Miami would have been a better way out. A true escape.
“Here you are,” he says like it isn’t evident.
I don’t dare say his name, because I don’t know who he actually is. I shake my head from side to side, trying to clear my mind.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him with a dry mouth. “Why did you come?”
I hear him laugh softly before speaking. “I’m the one asking the questions here,” he says hoarsely. Yes, they are so similar and at the same time so different. Now I can see it, the blinders have fallen from my eyes. They have robbed me of the trust, the hope, the desire to believe in someone. My faith in love. “But I will be good to you, this time. I came to remind you who you belong to.”
His strong arms lift me off the ground, I want to kick his nuts and defend myself. I want to scream until my throat hurts that he has already done enough damage.
But my body doesn’t respond. My legs seem to be made of a trembling mass that refuses to act and I hate it. I put myself in danger when I came here, when I got drunk. Not thinking about my safety.
I’m so predictable.
I hardly notice when he pulls the dirty shirt up, pulling it over my head. With half-open and heavy eyes, I look into his, they are the same color yet they see me differently. There is no love in his gaze. Just an emotion I can’t name and that fills me with fear.
Pure fear.
“Please,” I plead as he drops me onto the bed we have shared many nights together. “I don’t know who you are or what you want from me, but it won’t work. They know everything.”
“Shut up. You were mine first, Stella. I was the one who chose you. He’s not going to steal you from me too,” he yells at me before slapping me, I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Lionel stole something from him. What did he steal?
“I don’t want to hear another word.”
My world goes black, I don’t know whether that is a curse or a blessing.
I don’t know what he’s going to do with me.
By the time I open my eyes again the house is silent and dark, only the lights from the streetlamps softly illuminate the room. My head is about to explode and my body feels heavy.
I lift the sheet to go to the bathroom, it’s an emergency.
A gasp comes out of my mouth when I realize I’m naked. No, no. Please no.
A gasp and a moan come from deep within my chest, more pain. My soul is torn as a veil.
Wasn’t it enough with what he had already done?
Why come back and give me the final blow?
I’m in the middle of the crossfire. I don’t know who my enemy is and who’s on my side. I’m naked and unarmed in front of a gale. The two are fighting for a reason that I don’t know and I’m another piece. A pawn that they move at will.
And I’ve reached my limit.
One thing is for sure, I have to get out of here. I must find a place to hide from both of them. I can’t be here, otherwise, this will grow like a snowball. Soon my family will be involved too and I don’t want my mother to be in danger.
After taking a shower that feels like heaven, I get dressed as fast as my hands allow. I put a few things in a handbag. I take some money from my secret hiding place and the keys to my old truck.
As soon as I’m safe, I’ll notify Aunt Felicia, she will know how to deal with my mother.
The first thing on the agenda is to find a safe haven. At least for now.
One step at a time.