Chapter 31 Lyse
Lyse
Iswiped at the stray tears on my face as I settled into my train seat, and cursed Omar Castillo. You make me love you, and you send me away, I thought. Out of all the times to be noble, he had to pick now?
“Whoever he is, he’s not worth it, sweetheart.” I looked across the aisle: an elderly man was digging a novel out of a laptop case. He smiled at me softly. “Whoever made you cry like that,” he said, pointing at my face. “He’s not worth all that sadness.”
I wiped at my cheeks again, self-conscious. “How do you know these aren’t tears of joy?” I asked. “I could be thrilled beyond words.”
He tutted at me. “Your eyes are very expressive,” he said. “They say everything that your words don’t. Whoever you left behind, he’s broken your heart.”
I huffed. “It wasn’t just one guy,” I said, and when the old man’s eyebrows went up in surprise, I waved my hand with a laugh. “I mean, there is a guy, yes, but our families are the bigger issue.”
“They don’t want you together?”
I shook my head. “It’s more complicated than that.”
The man tutted and again opened his book. “Love is never that complicated.”
If you knew the world that we lived in, I thought. “I’m glad it was easy for you, then.”
He glanced at me; his face was unreadable.
“I wouldn’t call it easy,” he said. “The love part was easy: I knew my wife was the one for me after a handful of dates. But life has a way of beating people down, and even the strongest loves become brittle with age. The years that you don’t particularly like the person that you love?
Those aren’t easy. The year that your partner is diagnosed with terminal cancer? That isn’t easy.”
I ducked my head. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s one of the inevitabilities of life, unfortunately,” he said. “I wished I had gone first…but I wouldn’t want her to experience this kind of pain either. You.” He pointed at me. “You’re too young to experience loss like mine...especially if your sweetheart is still around.”
His advice was sweet, if a little bit sappy, but it stoked the anger that was growing in my belly. Not only had Omar walked away from me, put me on a train to a brand-new city with nothing but a credit card, but he made the choice for me. He didn’t give me the option to stay and fight with him.
Fuck this. I didn’t have to go to New York by myself just because Omar told me to. I could do whatever I wanted. “Thank you,” I said to the man.
“For what?”
I smiled at him. “For clarity.”
Standing up, I wove through the crowd of people still trying to get on the train and stepped down onto the platform that was farthest from where I got on.
If Omar saw me leave the train, he’d make me get back on.
He might even take me to New York himself, but he wouldn’t stay, so getting caught wasn’t an option.
I had to come up with a plan before I saw him again. I needed him to know that I was going to stand by his side, no matter what our families might throw at us…I just needed a way to do that.
I also needed answers.
I waited in the station shop, flipping through magazines, until the train pulled out, and I knew that Omar was gone.
I grabbed a phone card from the wall of gift cards and prepaid Visas and paid for it.
It was a risky move. If Omar saw the charges before I had things straightened out, he would come after me, but I had been left without a cellphone.
I found a bank of payphones and used the card to place a call to Matteo, praying he would answer an unknown number. Luckily, the call connected after the third ring “Hello?”
“Matteo!”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Lyse?” Matteo’s voice broke over my name. “Lyse, is that really you?”
“Of course, it’s me,” I said, trying not to snap at him. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Where are you?” he asked instead of answering my question. “I’ll come get you!”
It was on the tip of my tongue to agree and tell him where I was, but the image of Jesus with such a hateful expression on his face came to mind. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to be picked up. Can you meet me? I have questions.”
“What? Lyse, let me pick you up. I’ll bring you home.”
“No,” I insisted. “I’m not ever going back there. Do you hear me?” The very thought made my blood boil in my veins. “Can you meet me or not?”
Matteo was quiet for a moment. “You sound like you don’t trust me.”
I blinked at the burning in my eyes again. You’re not crying again, I told myself. I’d already done that enough for today. “I don’t trust you,” I said.
“Lyse.”
“If I can trust you, meet me at the Amtrak station in half an hour. Come alone. If I see anyone with you, I’ll get on a train, and you’ll never see me again.”
“Okay, okay,” Matteo said. “I’ll be there.”
“Promise that you’ll come alone. Don’t tell Apá.”
“I won’t tell him,” he said, though it sounded like it pained him to say those words. “Wait for me.”