47. MAGDALEN
47
MAGDALEN
He does catch me eventually. I lasted three minutes behind a rusty fountain before strong hands grabbed me by the waist, hauling me into him.
‘On my back,’ he commands when he lets me go.
‘What?’ My heart is still pounding from the small race across town.
‘You heard me. On my back.’
I sigh and walk around him, placing my hands on his broad shoulders before jumping on his back and wrapping my legs around his waist. ‘Am I allowed to ask why this is happening?’ I question when he starts walking, hands protectively gripping my calves as he turns towards the path to the beach houses.
‘Because I like being beneath you,’ he supplies, leaving my throat dry. Even taking the piss, Theo makes anything he says lusty and outrageously attractive. It’s sickening. As he walks us to the villa, I can feel the powerful muscles of his back move beneath me, and every so often he’ll grunt when he readjusts me on him. Heat spreads down my body, craving his sounds. Wanting to climb across him so that I’m straddling his front and watch him the entire time.
God, what the fuck is happening to me? I’m spending too much time with Anika. I submit to being carried, on his back, and sink down so my chin nestles into the space between his shoulder and head, my hair swinging over the both of us as he steps over the uneven sidewalk.
‘Crude,’ I whisper.
He stops walking and turns his head slightly so that his lips brush against my cheek when he talks. He breathes in, voice low. ‘Only for you.’
When we arrive at the villa, Lucia and Maio are sitting out in the garden, drinking beers and eating olives.
‘Fuckers,’ Theo moans. ‘Shouldn’t they be out doing almost-married shit?’
‘We can try to sneak past the sliding door. I don’t think they’ve noticed us yet,’ I offer, and Theo intertwines his fingers with mine.
‘No, no. Let’s chat with your big sis. It’s her wedding week, after all.’
We only take one step in the kitchen before Lucia’s head turns and eyes us through the sliding door.
‘Ah, lovebirds. Can you bring the wine before you come outside? It’s in the fridge.’
‘How do you know we were even planning on coming outside?’
‘Because I’m telling you to?’ she says and waves her hand at me like I’ve asked what colour the sky is.
‘Brat.’ I stick my tongue out and Theo goes to grab the wine as I open the sliding door.
‘There she is,’ Lucia says happily, patting the empty chair next to her. She’s wearing a white sundress that drags across the floor even with her legs crossed.
‘Are you drunk?’ I ask, counting the five empty bottles on the table in front of her. Knowing Lucia has probably drunk a minimum of three.
‘What? I can’t be excited to chat with my little sister without being drunk?’
‘I mean you’re never happy to see me.’ I mean for it to come out as a joke, but the words sound accusatory instead, too much truth weighing them down.
‘You think I don’t like you?’ Lucia turns to face me better, ready to fight.
‘Lucia...’ Maio tries to calm her down but she swiftly ignores him, turning even further towards me.
‘Answer the question, Maggie.’
‘Obviously you like me, Lulu. We’ve just never been close.’
‘We’re not close because you choose not to be,’ she fires back. ‘You were always weird growing up.’
My heart sinks at being caught, at being judged by my own sister. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, don’t fucking apologize. Just tell me why.’
‘How am I supposed to know why I act the way I act?’ I spit back, the pressure in my temples getting increasingly harder to ignore. My left pinkie goes numb and I try to hit it underneath the table without anyone noticing but the whole table ends up shaking and one of the empty beer bottles falls over.
‘I think you know why,’ she says and my brain goes quiet. It’s funny, she’s done this before. Two times, actually, always making sure to confront me with someone else present. Last time, I was eighteen and she dragged me out for drinks with Marta. After each time, I promised myself I’d come up with something striking to say back but never wanted to think about it long enough to actually come up with anything. I look at Maio, who stares at his fingernails, pretending he’s not here. Marta had tried to comfort me, smothering me with soft words and misphrased motivational quotes. Be the product you want to change , she said . I think she meant, Be the change you want to see .
‘I’m not doing this now.’ It’s the exact same thing I said the two other times.
‘You said that before.’
‘Sorry I don’t like being attacked like this, Lucia. You never want to just talk to me, do you? You want to talk at me. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.’
‘What, I’m not allowed to be concerned about my baby sister?’
‘You just want to know if you’re right! If Mum told you the truth! Don’t play stupid.’
She stays silent but looks at Maio, who finally meets her gaze, and any adrenaline or anger I have leaves when I watch them talk through their eyes. She’s told him.
Lucia turns back to me. ‘How do you know Mum told me?’
‘Because you started watching what you said around me. You used to joke around me all the time and then one day, it just stopped. You were so scared to say anything wrong that you just stopped saying anything at all.’ My throat closes, and I try to swallow down the residual sadness of these memories. This is the most I’ve ever talked about it. My head throbs violently and the gelato sits heavy in my stomach. It feels like someone is scraping my brain with a knife, peeling thin layers off until all that’s left is the smell of oil sizzling on skin. Calm down.
The sliding door opens behind us and I freeze, completely forgetting Theo was in the kitchen.
‘Couldn’t get this fucking cork out of the bottle,’ he says, placing the wine on the table with four glasses.
But Lucia stands up. ‘Sorry,’ she says with a giant smile splayed across her face. It’s so tight her face looks like it’s about to crack. ‘I underestimated how much I drank.’ She begins to gather the empty bottles from the table. ‘You two have at it.’
Maio stands up clumsily from his chair. ‘Sorry, man. We’ll catch up tomorrow morning.’
He pats him on the shoulder and, just as they’re about to walk through the sliding door, Theo speaks up. ‘Wait, Lucia.’ He slides a glass in front of me and begins pouring the wine.
‘Yes?’ Her voice is sharp, like a schoolteacher anticipating a stupid question from one of their students.
‘You called us lovebirds before.’ Lucia’s eyes look from Theo to mine. ‘How did you know that we were...?’
‘Because,’ she responds, her eyes softening, adjusting the bottles in her hands before Maio silently takes three of them from her and walks inside, ‘I’ve never seen her like that before.’
‘Oh,’ Theo says, and my palms sweat from Lucia’s exposing observation. Am I different than I usually am? I feel oddly defensive, like I need to explain my smiles, why I laughed as many times as I have. Knowing how closely Lucia is watching me is surprising. I always assumed I fell just behind her peripheral.
‘And not to mention the fact that you were thirty seconds away from murdering poor Roberto when you saw Maggie talking to him at my engagement dinner.’ Lucia winks at Theo and turns to look at me one final time. ‘Goodnight,’ she nods.
‘Goodnight.’ There’s nothing else to say. As much as I hate her for trying to expose me, part of me will always miss my big sister. If you promise not to ask me any more, you can sit with us here a little longer . It hurts to know that she’s carried this burden with her all these years. She is shackled to my pain simply because she is my sister.
‘See you, Lucia.’
Theo looks at me while he fills his wine glass and I think I see him frown, but it’s gone before I have time to ask.