40
The Box
I admit that when I sat down with the box in front of the sofa, I didn”t think what I was experiencing was real.
My hands trembled as I looked at each piece of evidence inside it.
Romeo let me look at it without reservation, to delve into that intimate and private portion of his relationship with Yuri.
He sat down at the piano and began to play a piece I did not recognize, but which clearly reflected his melancholic mood.
My hands trembled.
My husband had kept everything, and when I say everything, I mean everything. If I had known what modesty was, I would have felt it. It was a kind of mini-shrine of the two of them, compiling photos, printed conversations, even memory cards loaded with videos. Along with the box, he brought a laptop in case I wanted to view them. And I could not deny the evidence, all that material was not forged and was stored with great care, as if it were something as precious as it was prized.
My chest tightened as soon as I saw Yuri. Two years without seeing him, two long years without hearing the tone of his voice calling me Kalinka, teasing me or joking around. Seeing him there with Romeo, sharing snippets of their lives; it hurt, it stung, especially because they did it behind my back, when I thought we had no secrets between us. True, I no longer lived at home, but he still came and went frequently. He could have told me!
My brother lied to us, both to my father and to me. He openly deceived us, hiding his relationship with the Capulet.
I was so absorbed that I didn”t notice the music notes had stopped and that Romeo had poured a couple of glasses.
”You seem to need this,” he muttered, offering me one.
”Thank you.” I downed it in one gulp. ”Fill it again, please.” The clear liquid fell into it again and I emptied it into my throat, needing to feel that burn to digest what my mind refused to accept. ”I don’t understand.”
”That we were friends?”
”That he hid it from us.”
I looked up and saw myself reflected in his eyes, incredulous, betrayed.
”It couldn”t be any other way. Our parents refused to listen. Remember, we tried, we wanted it to work, to merge the two companies, and they insisted it couldn’t be. We didn’t want to stop being friends.”
And all that material, arranged chronologically, proved it.
”In the end, it turns out your mother wasn’t so wrong to name you Romeo, only in your case it was Yuri who died, not Juliet.”
”His death, along with my mother”s, was one of the worst moments of my life. Your brother died, but a part of me went with him. If Aleksa and my sister hadn”t intervened... I don”t know how it would have ended, probably accompanying him. I went several times, high as a kite, to confront Cheng”s gang members, I became a damn suicidal. Once, I almost didn”t make it. That last beating, which forced me to make a pit stop at the hospital, led my father to give me an ultimatum. Either I focused, or he was sending me to Calabria to live with my uncle Salvatore. As you”ve guessed, I can”t stand my cousin.
”I”ve noticed, yes.” I pondered. ”Did your sister know about your friendship?”
”Let”s just say she added two and two when she saw my state, and came to a conclusion on her own, albeit a wrong one.”
”Which was?”
”Juliet thought I was gay and Yuri was my partner.”
I laughed.
”My brother wasn”t gay.”
I rummaged in the box again and pulled out another photograph.
In it, Yuri and Romeo were dressed as bikers, holding each other by the shoulder, smiling broadly at the camera. From the angle, it was a selfie taken by my husband.
”This was one of the last ones we took. The weekend before Cheng screwed us over. I convinced your brother to take a road trip along the coast, we slept on the beach, drank beers in front of a bonfire. We shared dreams about the future.” My husband sighed. ”We were naive. We dreamed that one day our parents would accept that things could change, be different because of us. It”s not good to dwell on the past; it doesn”t let you evolve.”
I returned the image to the box and saw another one that made me purse my lips, it was me, the day I turned twenty-four.
”And this photo?” Romeo smiled. ”Why do you have one of mine there?”
”Don”t make fun of what I”m about to tell you, okay?”
”Do I look like I”m laughing?”
”Okay, I”ll tell you. I had a corkboard of desires, ever since I read a book that said everything you want should always be in sight.”
”I know that theory, it”s from The Law of Attraction.”
”Exactly, well, I had it hanging in my flat in Puerto Banús, before moving to this house... It was full of things, some that I already have, like the Harley you drove or the Bugatti. And others that are still pending... In short, your brother knew about its existence and how much I believed in it.”
”I didn”t take you for someone who was into these kinds of things.”
”Yeah, well, everyone has their quirks, and it worked for me, or at least I believed in it.”
”Not anymore?”
He shrugged.
”On that corkboard was a photo of me with your brother and the words ”friends forever,” written in my own handwriting. It might seem silly to you, but when Yuri died, I was so frustrated that I ripped up the corkboard and everything on it.”
”I can understand that; I also destroyed things that day,” I empathized, ”but that doesn”t explain why my photo is in this box.”
”Sorry, I digressed. Well. One weekend when Yuri stayed over at the flat because we ended up with a couple of girls, he put that picture on my board. I don”t know where he got it from or how he did it. All I know is that on Monday, when I woke up across from him with my bowl of cereal, you were there, staring at me, with those big green eyes that made me drop my spoon into the bowl loaded with cereal and milk.” I smiled because that image was a close-up where only my face was visible, it was one of my brother”s favorites, when he saw it, he asked me to give it to him, saying I looked beautiful and he would always keep it. ”I let out a bunch of expletives. It might seem silly, but I swear it felt like you were about to pop out of there any moment and laugh at me.”
”I would have.”
”I don”t doubt it. When I managed to clean up the mess, I turned my eyes back to the center of the corkboard. You were there, suspended among my greatest desires. I figured it was a joke on his part, because he always thought of you and it was common for him to say that I would end up marrying you. You know, guy stuff.”
”And he put my photo there? Just like that?”
Romeo rubbed the back of his neck.
”Not exactly. Every image he hung, he usually associated it with a phrase, so Yuri took care of writing the one that accompanied your image.”
Romeo rummaged in the box, pulled out a small folder, opened it and there it was, the note written. I recognized my brother”s handwriting. I read it aloud.
”Screw around now, because as soon as you meet her, you won”t be able to think of anyone else. My sister will be your doom.” I turned my face toward him, who sat down next to me. ”Are you kidding me?”
”That was Yuri, and look, his prediction wasn’t so off, I”m already doomed.” His reflection pressed into my chest and his index finger lazily caressed the skin of my thigh. ”Do you still think I”m the person who wants to screw up your life, Nikita Koroleva?”
I looked from his finger to the box, there was a parallel reality, an alternative I hadn”t even considered. My heart and mind were spinning, both had their own opinion, because until very recently all the blame had fallen on the man who now rested his hand on my bare thigh.
”I need to digest all this,” I told him overwhelmed.
”We have plenty of time ahead, it”s logical that you need it, although there lies all the truth.”
”I”ll keep that in mind.”
Romeo yawned.
”You look tired.”
”I am; I need some rest.”
”Lay down, I”m going to stay here a while longer. Do you mind?”
”No, you can look through all the material as many times as you want if it helps us to start afresh. I told you before and I repeat it now. I”d like us to really get to know each other, without subterfuges, without lies. I don”t want to have secrets from you, Nikita, not anymore.” His hand stroked my cheek. ”Good night.”
”Good night.”
Romeo got up and left me suspended between what I believed was true and what seemed to be.