Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lilly
It’s him.
It’s actually him.
Miguel’s alive he didn’t die. But that was last year. It all happened last year.
Where has he been all this time?
Miguel watches me with that stern expression and that crude smile as the ball moves and starts to float away.
I can’t dance. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
My heart is drumming, the hammering sound deafening and the pull on my soul unbearable.
I stand just like I am, shell shocked for the final minutes.
By the time the ball makes its way back to the other side of the hall to end the performance I feel faint and so lightheaded I see stars.
Louise is standing over by the bench waiting for me with water. I go to her and almost stumble tripping over nothing, my soul fighting to escape the devil it just saw.
“Hey Lilly, another great performance. I wanted to see if you were okay.” Louise says.
She’s talking but she sounds far away. I try to make out what she’s saying but answer accordingly but what I know I have to do is leave.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m gonna go.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You sure you’re okay, you look pale.”
I think if all I look is pale then that’s good because I can’t believe what I just saw. Who I just saw. Miguel.
Fuck.
“I’m fine,” I repeat as if on autopilot. Then I rush away. I get downstairs and I don’t even bother to change I just grab my bag and leave.
When I get to my car I don’t check anything I just drive. Drive home to Christian but he’s not there.
And, he’s not answering his phone either.
I don’t sleep at all until well into the early hours of the morning and I fall into a nightmare. A memory of Miguel pushing me down the stairs. The fear and panic from the memory wakes me with a start and I notice I have cold sweat running down my face and my back.
Pushing me down the stairs was one of Miguel’s favorite things to do for the simple reason that he knew I was terrified of breaking my neck and dying.
The worse time he did it was just before I gave birth to Rosie.
That time the fear of God gripped me as I thought I was going to lose my baby.
I reached out for one of the rails along the banister.
That was what stopped me falling but the impact jerked my body enough to trigger labor.
My water broke and I don’t know how I made it through the night giving birth by myself.
Miguel called the ambulance to collect me.
He didn’t even want to pretend to be a husband that night.
All because there was a new waitress in the bar he wanted to fuck before anyone else got the chance. I heard him talking with his friend.
That is who my husband was.
He’s not dead.
Oh my God I don’t what kind of nightmare this is I just walked into but I have to find out what happened and how he found me. Mom and I were living in LA when Miguel and I met. It was easier for me to take care of her while I worked with the show.
He doesn’t know about Chicago or that I was ever here. I never mentioned it but I guess it probably wouldn’t have been that hard to figure out if he checked me out which he clearly did.
It’s the longest place I stayed at as a child. I never started moving around until Julliard.
I get dressed and rush out to the kitchen where Vera is making breakfast for Rosie. Christian isn’t here.
“Morning, are you okay?” Vera asks.
“Yeah,” I answer with a little smile not wanting to cause any alarm. “Is Christian here?”
“No, I haven’t seen him. he didn’t come home last night.” she answers and my heart squeezes.
If he didn’t come home there’s a number of places he could be including some woman’s bed.
I’ve been trying not to cry. Shock has taken me in more ways than one since seeing Miguel, but thinking of Christian spending the night with some woman crushes me to my core.
“I’m sure he’ll be home soon, yes.” Vera says tapping my shoulder with reassurance.
“Yeah,” I say. I can’t let this break me. I can’t. My heart is already broken now I truly have to figure out the next steps. Which means I have to abandon everything and get the hell out of Chicago.
I have to do one thing first.
“Vera would you mind taking Rosie to the playgroup? I have to go to town for something. I shouldn’t be too long.”
“Not at all, you take your time. I’ll get her to the playgroup we’ll meet back here and I’ll make lasagna. Rosie loves that. So does Christian. I’m sure he’ll be back for dinner.”
I’m grateful for her attempts to cheer me up.
“Thank you.”
I look over to Rosie who’s feeding Goosy a strawberry. I rush over to kiss her on her forehead them I grab my bag and head out.
I’m going to a cyber café in town I used a few times. It’s one of those underground places that can make a number untraceable. I use it to call Columbia twice since Rosie and I came here. I found out about it by accident. I needed to print something off and I overheard someone talking about it.
There was a guy who helped Rosie and me leave Columbia. His name is Juan Hernandez. He was the only one of Miguel’s men to take some compassion on me. He helped me get my name changed back to St. James and helped me sort out passports for myself and Rosie to come back to the States.
It was also him who delivered the news that Miguel had been killed in a police shootout, and that I was finally free of that life.
I was a mess. The night before Miguel was killed he beat me so bad I could barely stand.
When Juan came with the news, he found me on the floor huddled in the corner with my baby, afraid to even breathe.
I had to call him those two times to get money. The second time I was so embarrassed I decided I would never do it again. I figured if I’m going to find any answers he’s the best person to start with.
When I get to the cyber café I ask for the special phone service and pay the man at the desk the premium rate so I can go quick and speak for as long as I need to.
I call Juan’s number and it rings out. That’s never happened before. I call it again and this time someone answers after the phone rings a few times.
“Buenos días,” a man says.
“Buenos días,” I haven’t spoken Spanish in such a long time that I can’t remember how to speak it. Miguel never spoke Spanish in the house. It was always in English and those around us did the same. “I’m sorry do you speak English. I wanted to speak to Juan Hernandez.”
“Sorry, he’s dead. Shot a few months back. Can’t help you,” the man says and hangs up.
I don’t even get to process the shock of what I just learned or the possibility that maybe Miguel killed him.
Jesus. My hands start shaking. Trembling I hang up the phone and make my way back out to the parking lot.
reaching for my phone I call Christian again.
the same shit as last night happened. the phone went straight to voicemail.
I open my mouth to say something then I remember him telling me to leave if I wanted to.
I’m so stupid. It’s over. It’s over between us and I’ve just landed myself into a new hell.
When I turn the corner to where my car is parked I come face to face with a man in a hooded sweatshirt.
He backs off his hood and I see he’s one of Miguel’s men. I was never given his name but I knew he was the kind of man you stay away from. It was him who was following me. He’s the guy who was following me weeks ago.
Jesus Christ, I back away but back right into a wall with arms. Glancing up I see another guy. Another lackey for Miguel. Here are my answers. Miguel really is back.
“Buenos Diaz senora Diaz,” the man with the hooded shirt says. “You’re coming with us.
“Let me go,” I wince.
“No. We can’t do that.”
I’m about to scream but the sound is muffled when something covers over my mouth. A sharp smell hits me and I see stars.
As I black out I think of Rosie, then the darkness comes.