22. The Center Of The Universe
22
THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE
Dahlia
The Past
A lejandro doesn’t come to bed until before dawn and barely sleeps more than a few hours before he’s up again. I tiptoe down the hall toward the study and only catch bits and pieces of what he’s saying. Whispers about shipments and names I don’t recognize, different secrets dancing across his tongue in a language I don’t understand. I want to burst through the door and scream at him to tell me.
What’s more important than us?
What’s so important that it’s worth pushing me away?
When Alejandro asked about my father last night, it hurt more than it should’ve. I tossed and turned all night, reliving the night my father left, trying to imagine different scenarios, a different world in which I mattered enough to make him stay. I wasn’t enough for my mother; I wasn’t enough for my father. I’m not enough for Alejandro.
I am not enough for anyone.
Am I here because he loves me or because he feels alone and he needs someone to fill a void in his life? Why won’t he speak to me, why won’t he share his life with me? I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Doesn’t he see how much it’s hurting me, doesn’t he care?
What do I have to do to get him to see me again?
I ’m packing my overnight bag when Alejandro enters the bedroom.
“I was thinking.”
My back is to him when I answer, “What were you thinking?”
“We should take a drive.”
A sense of déjà vu washes over me. A little over a year ago I was in this exact same room, only as a captive and not an equal when he asked me the same question. Unfortunately for him, I’m in less of a forgiving mood.
Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t been able to eat all day and Alejandro’s been locked up in the study for hours. We’re supposed to be here until tomorrow but what’s the point? May as well start packing now and leave in another hour or two. I’m sure he’s eager to get back to work and I need to get my affairs in order.
It still feels so surreal. Am I really going to leave or will I try to make a go of it again? If I stay, it can’t be under these same conditions and if I leave, I don’t know what I’ll be going back to. There’s my apartment whose rent has been paid out for the year, Alejandro’s way of making me feel “secure” but now I can’t help but think of it as a safety net. Something he knew I’d need to fall back on when all of this eventually blew up in our faces.
I can’t think or sort through my feelings. Maybe it’s because I’m too numb to feel anything other than disappointment.
I hear his footsteps and he sits on the arm of the love seat behind me. I’m seated on the rug in front of the coffee table and refolding our clothes so I can pack them. His fingers dance across the skin of my bare shoulder as he pushes my hair aside and kisses the back of my neck.
“What are you doing?”
“Just…rearranging.”
“Get dressed.”
“I’m not in the mood for a drive.”
“It’ll be worth it.” He gets up and kisses the top of my head. “Promise.”
He doesn’t notice the way I flinch every time he gets close. Maybe he would if he bothered to pay attention to me. “I don’t want to. I’d rather go home.”
All day I’ve been running through what to say in my mind; drafting, editing, and revising whatever script I think might work best.
I know we love each other but this isn’t working anymore.
Someone had to be brave enough to say it.
I want more for myself.
I can’t take it anymore.
Please don’t let me go without a fight.
This is the only time we’ll be able to have a conversation like this without running the risk of being heard or interrupted. Not to mention home is dangerously familiar and I know I’ll lose my nerve to say anything. The second we walk through the door we’ll fall back into the same rhythmic routine of life together where our clothes hang in the same closets and our toothbrushes occupy the same corner of the sink. We’ll sleep in the same bed and when he reaches for me at night, I’ll give in to the crippling loneliness and lose myself to the illusion of being loved by him again.
I am no longer the center of his universe. Something else has captured his attention and I’ve been expelled to the dark side of the moon. I have no idea how to find my way back but maybe I don’t want to. Maybe this is a sign to leave while I still can, while there’s a bit of fight left in me.
Is this what happened to Mom? Is this how she got stuck with Papi?
I shake the thought from my head.
We are not my parents and I am not my mother.
“Go home? We’ve barely been here a day.” He tries to sound encouraging but it lacks something. Perhaps sincerity. “There’s plenty to do.”
“I think I did enough while I was being held captive last summer.”
“Ha-ha,” he remarks. “Very funny.”
I set down the shirt I was folding and turn to him. “Look, I was thinking?—”
Ringing cuts me off. I hold my breath as he reaches into his pocket.
Please turn it off.
Please.
Please.
Please.
He reads the screen for a second too long and I panic.
“Are you going to answer that?”
“Unfortunately.” He sighs and lifts the device toward his ear. “It’s Dimit?—”
I bolt to my feet. I can’t stop the words that come out of me next. “Do I even fucking exist to you?”
His eyes widen and his lips part but I storm into the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me. At the last second, I flip the lock before walking over to the sink and turning on the cold water. I wish I could drown myself but that would require a much larger body of water and to get to the pool, I’d need to pass Alejandro again.
And I can’t. I can’t face him.
My body heats. Tears prickle behind my eyes and a burning sensation creeps up my throat. I part my lips to draw in breath but a strangled sound escapes instead. I clench my teeth to stop it from happening again but I feel it deep in my chest, the urge to scream .
With trembling hands, I manage to splash water on my face but it does nothing to help. I turn off the sink and grip the marble edge so I don’t topple over. Everything inside me tremors; my bones quake and my muscles tighten and I wish the blurriness in my vision would clear but it seems to get worse with every strangled breath of air I manage to drag into my lungs. And then I stop breathing all together.
I realize then how trapped I am and I don’t mean in this house. I’m trapped in a relationship with someone I left my entire life for. Someone who barely acknowledges my existence anymore and doesn’t listen to me when I speak. How could I have been so wrong, so foolish? How could I have made a mistake like this?
“Dahlia?” Alejandro knocks on the bathroom door. “Dahlia, abre la puerta.”
What is there for me back home? I withdrew from my grad program, left my job, and don’t have any internships lined up. There’s the apartment at Marcia’s but I spent more than I should’ve from my savings and I won’t last more than three months. Karina lives with Brent now and there’s no one else I can fall back on. I am completely alone.
Am I stuck here?
“ Dahlia !” He knocks again. “Mujer, ?qué te pasa? ?Por qué te encerraste?”
I think I am. I think I’m trapped.
And the only way out is through.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I wait a few more seconds before opening the door. There’s no use trying to walk past him because he stands in the doorway, overwhelming me with his size and stature.
The clarity and stability in my voice shocks even me. “We came here to be alone and in less than twenty-four hours you haven’t been able to have a single uninterrupted conversation with me.”
He at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m so?—”
“Keep your apology to yourself and get out of my way.”
I push past him and into the bedroom where I snatch my phone off the nightstand and head outside. Last year, I spent many long days walking the grounds of the villa and managed to find plenty of places to hide. There was little privacy to be had and I needed to assert my independence in any way I could.
In summer, the garden is in full bloom and it lasts well into the autumn months. Tucked between two olive trees, I sit on a stone bench and scroll through my contacts until I find the one I’m looking for. Hoping her number hasn’t changed all these years, I draft a text message and hope for the best.
Me: Lyss? It’s me…how about that coffee sometime?
Her response comes mere seconds later.
Lyss: Absolutely.