CHAPTER 14
CLEAR AS WATER
Barbara
Seeing Pablo again has kept breakfast from being as disastrous as it started out.
Now, the sunlight filters slowly through the palm trees, bathing the tables in golden light.
He’s sitting across from me, talking excitedly about everything that’s happened in his life these past few years; listening to him talk about Miriam, about how they met, about how they fell in love, has made it impossible for me to stop thinking about Lidia.
Although, to be honest, I’ve never stopped thinking about her.
I’ve barely touched the toast I served myself, or the juice.
I’ve focused on the coffee, on the warmth radiating from the cup and the conversation with Pablo, so as not to dwell on the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.
Until a few days ago, I felt secure; my job was fantastic, my relationship with Ingrid wonderful, and my routines, solid.
Now, well… now I’m back at that point in my life where I question every step I take for fear of screwing it up.
“I’m telling you, this island is just as good as any other,” Pablo says with conviction. “It’s peaceful, beautiful… and the perfect place to disconnect from everything. I’m sure these few weeks of rest will do you good. Soccer can be exhausting.”
I nod slowly and force a smile that barely touches my lips, let alone my eyes.
“Unwind. If only it were as simple as saying the word,” I think.
“And on top of that,” he continues, leaning in toward me a little with that knowing look he’s always had, “we’ve got a great plan for today.”
I look up, genuinely intrigued.
“A great plan?”
“A boat trip,” he explains, and his eyes sparkle as if he’s about to share the best-kept secret; I, on the other hand, turn pale. “Miriam organized it. We’re going snorkeling, to see the reefs up close… that kind of thing that makes you feel like you’re in a National Geographic documentary.”
I can’t help but let out a laugh.
“It sounds great, actually.”
And the truth is, I’m really looking forward to it, even though the sea and I don’t get along.
For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine it: the crystal-clear water enveloping me, the absolute silence beneath the surface, that perfect moment when the rest of the world simply fades away and it’s just you and everything hidden inside you.
But then Pablo adds:
“It’s perfect. That way you’ll finally meet Miriam, and the four of us can spend the day together, just like we should.”
“The four of us?” The question slips out of my mouth as fast as I think it.
“Of course. I mentioned it to Lidia before coming to see you,” he replies, and I feel my stomach twist. “It’ll be fantastic, you’ll see.”
My smile freezes.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I reply very carefully, looking down at the coffee that has already gone cold. “You three should just go. I don’t want to be a burden…”
“But what do you mean, a burden? Nonsense, Barbara!” he interrupts me with a firmness that catches me off guard. “I’m not going to let you spend weeks cooped up here. No matter what my daughter says.”
“It’s just that…”
Pablo sighs.
“Look, I know things aren’t going the way I expected…
” he admits, scratching the back of his neck with a weary expression.
“But that doesn’t mean you have to avoid each other all day long.
Sometimes…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, “sometimes all it takes is a little nudge for the pieces to start falling into place again.”
I stare at him. I’m aware of how painful it was for Pablo to learn that Lidia and I were going to split up.
That for months he was there, with us, helping us find a solution to something that had none.
And I know my invitation was the perfect excuse to force the two of us together.
But he has no idea about my life outside this paradise, nor about the tension between her and me.
“I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable because of me. You know how she is when she’s forced into things.”
“Lidia is strong,” he replies gently. “Besides, you’re two grown women who can get along just fine without hurting each other.”
“I wish that were true.” I lower my gaze for a moment and weigh my options as if I actually had many. But I don’t. I’ve never had any when it comes to her.
“Okay,” I finally give in. “I’ll go. But if Lidia doesn’t agree, or if she’s uncomfortable, the three of you can go, and I’ll do something else.”
Pablo’s smile returns with full intensity, lighting up his entire face.
“I knew you’d end up saying yes.”
“I just agreed,” I remind him, raising an eyebrow and taking a long sip of coffee. “The moment I see any red flags, I’m out of there.”
“The only light you’ll see will be the sun shining on your face. You’ll see what a great time we’re going to have!”
· · ·
The pier glistens in the sun, and the light gives the water a hypnotic quality.
The boat Pablo has rented sways gently, moored by ropes that creak softly with every sway.
I should have given Pablo a convincing excuse, or simply told him the truth, but I couldn’t let him down when Miriam was the one who organized everything.
“Are you okay?” Pablo asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “You suddenly turned pale.”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” I lie with a naturalness that comes to me effortlessly. “It’s just the heat. I’ve gotten used to the temperature in London, and this humidity is killing me.”
“You have a lie for everything, Barbara,” I tell myself.
For a few minutes, I just stare out at the sea, breathing in the salty air around me and trying to calm my anxiety.
I just hope those reefs aren’t too far from the shore, that it’s only a few minutes away, and that I don’t end up being the center of attention on this family outing.
But then Lidia appears, and what I’m feeling stops mattering.
She walks along the pier dressed just as she was when she appeared at the restaurant a few hours ago, absorbed in the scenery. Her hair is pulled back with a clip, with a few strands brushing her cheeks, and she wears sunglasses like a headband.
Our eyes meet and the world, once again, comes to a screeching halt. The tension arises immediately; dense, tangible, as if the air between us had suddenly thickened.
“Good morning, girls!” Miriam bursts in with a surge of energy, stepping right between the two of us with a broad, practiced smile. “We’re going to have a wonderful time, you’ll see. You must be Barbara,” she says, turning to me. “Pablo has told me so much about you. Thanks for coming.”
“And thank you for inviting me,” I reply politely. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“And I you. But now, let’s go! The reefs look best when the sun is at its highest.”
Lidia doesn’t say a word, and her silence cuts deep.
We climb onto the boat, and as soon as I step onto the deck, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake. The movement is subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else. But for me, it’s enough to make my heart race and my knees go weak.
“Shit…”
I discreetly grab the railing and try to make sure no one notices how white my knuckles are turning.
“Breathe, Barbara. Take a deep breath. Exhale slowly. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Except it is. It always has been.
The engine roars to life with a deep purr that mingles with the lapping of the water.
And then it really begins. My stomach churns with sadistic slowness, as if it wants to give me plenty of time to anticipate the disaster.
I fix my gaze on the horizon, on that perfect line where the sky and the sea meet, but it’s no use.
“Are you okay?” Miriam whispers beside me, worried.
“Perfectly.”
And the smile I offer her wouldn’t fool even a stranger.
“You still get seasick on boats, don’t you?” asks Lidia, who suddenly approaches shortly after Miriam leaves.
“What do you think?” I reply, on the verge of throwing up everything I had for breakfast.
“You could have told my father,” she says in that sharp tone that mixes reproach and coldness. “It would have been easier to tell the truth than to put on that little show and ruin everyone’s day, don’t you think?”
There it is. Sharp as a knife, honest to the point of hurting.
I close my eyes for a second, take a breath, and let it out in a sigh.
“I didn’t want to ruin anything, Lidia.”
“Sure,” she replies sarcastically. “Because you’ve always been an expert at sacrificing yourself for others, haven’t you?”
The jab hits its mark. I deserve it.
“It’s not that simple…”
“No, of course it isn’t,” she concedes, and her voice softens a notch.
There’s a brief, tense silence. When I finally look up, I find her staring at me with an intensity that takes my breath away. Something in her face changes. It softens, and my heart races.
“Sit here,” she finally says, pointing to a nearby bench. “Breathe slowly. Always look at the horizon, not the moving water.”
I blink, bewildered.
“Are you… helping me?”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she replies almost immediately, raising that wall again.
“I wish my father hadn’t invited you and spared me from having to look you in the face and remember all the pain you caused me.
” Her voice trembles slightly, but she continues.
“But I was your wife… and I’ve never liked seeing you suffer, even if it’s hard for me to admit it right now. ”
Her words cut through me, and they do so because despite the time, the pain, and the wounds, we share a history, and that will never disappear no matter how much we might want it to.
“Do we want it?” I think, and I sit where she tells me to, following her advice to the letter.
And, surprisingly, it works a little. Enough so that the dizziness doesn’t overwhelm me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, almost without a voice.
She just nods.
The silence that follows is far more dangerous. I don’t know when I let myself do it, but my hand reaches for hers, and when our fingers brush against each other, something explodes inside me. It’s not nostalgia, nor is it memories. It’s the present, vivid and overwhelming.
I feel a brutal urge to pull her hand toward me and kiss it, to check if my heart, despite everything, still beats in time with hers, and if what I feel still belongs to both of us. But I can’t. It would be the worst mistake I could make right now.
Lidia looks at me, I look at her; she frowns and gently pulls away.
I force myself to look at the horizon, to focus on the rocking of the boat, on the constant murmur of the water against the hull.
But it’s too late. Way too late. Because it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been apart or everything I’ve built with Ingrid, because we’re still all that we were and that still hurts, that still beats strongly inside us.
And that—precisely that—terrifies me and saves me at the same time.