CHAPTER 27 #2
The lie comes too easily; it isn’t entirely false, but it’s enough for now. And as I say it, a little voice inside me keeps asking how long I plan to keep lying to the woman who looks at me as though I’m her entire world.
Lidia nods calmly and lifts her cup to her lips.
“I’m sure everything’s fine,” she says softly. “You can make it up to her when you get back. You’re good at what you do; I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Make it up to her.” The words echo heavily inside me, twisting my stomach. Make it up to Ingrid for leaving her alone while I’m here falling more in love with someone else every day. Make it up to Lidia for hiding from her that there’s another woman who believes I belong to her…
I lower my gaze to the screen and read the message:
Ingrid: Are you eating? I’m already at the sports complex; everyone’s freaking out. Apparently, they’re replacing the coach, and it’s chaos.
I take a deep breath before replying. My fingers move quickly, almost automatically, but every word feels heavy as lead.
Barbara: It was expected. She did okay, but not as well as they wanted. Tell me the details later.
The message shows as read almost immediately.
Ingrid: I will. By the way… you seem a little distant lately. Is everything okay over there?
My stomach tightens even more. I glance up discreetly.
Lidia is absorbed in her own phone now, smiling brightly, completely unaware of the conversation happening beside her.
Guilt squeezes my chest so tightly it hurts to breathe.
I’m destroying two relationships with my own hands, all because I want to hold on to Lidia.
Barbara: Everything’s fine. Pablo and Miriam’s wedding is getting close, and my nerves are keeping me awake. You know how I get.
This time the response takes longer.
Ingrid: Yeah… I know you. I’m sure everything’s going to turn out fine. Don’t worry. I wish I could be there with you. I miss you.
I could tell her I miss her too, but that’s not really how I feel.
Barbara: I’ll send you pictures, I promise.
I lock my phone and place it face down on the table, as if that could silence everything I’m feeling right now too.
“Everything okay?” Lidia asks, studying me with that deep attentiveness she’s always had, the kind that sometimes feels too intense and now only makes me feel worse.
“Yeah,” I answer quickly, forcing a smile. “Apparently they’re replacing the coach and everyone’s losing their minds.”
“I see…” she murmurs with a sympathetic smile that breaks my heart. “If you need to call your coworker to check in, go ahead. I’m not going to keep you here all morning. Although honestly, I’d love to.”
“You could try,” I say, letting a smile touch my lips even while inside I’m screaming.
“Don’t tempt me,” she replies with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Because I’m perfectly capable of tying you to that chair and not letting you leave until the day’s over.”
Her lightness clashes too hard with the weight I’m carrying, with these two realities colliding inside me without ever finding balance.
Two versions of myself. Two lives that refuse to fit together no matter how hard I try.
But here I am, sitting across from Lidia, wishing time would stop, wishing nobody would force me to choose, wishing this would never end.
I feel her hand settle over mine, soft and warm, and that touch anchors me to the present.
“Hey,” she says, leaning a little closer, her eyes full of tenderness. “You’re here, okay? Don’t let work steal you away from this for even a second. I want us to enjoy these days together without anything ruining them.”
I look up and let myself fall into her gaze. In that moment, the remorse is still there—heavy, crushing—but the love I feel for her makes it a little easier to bear.
“It won’t,” I reply with a conviction I genuinely feel in that exact moment.
And I believe it. Because when she smiles like that, when she looks at me that way, when her thumb traces tiny circles over my skin…
everything else loses its power. Even the guilt.
Even the fear. Even the truth I know I’ll eventually have to face.
I squeeze her hand lightly, as if that small gesture could freeze this moment forever, as if I could stay here just a little longer, even though deep down I know it isn’t sustainable, that it isn’t fair, and that none of this is entirely real.
But it’s ours, and right now that’s all that matters to me.
The sunlight keeps pouring through the windows, bathing the table in a golden glow that seems determined to shield us from everything else.
Lidia keeps talking about the flowers, about the last-minute details.
I listen to her, nodding as her voice wraps around me.
And for a few more minutes, I let the outside world remain exactly where it belongs: far away.
Very far away. Because here, with her hand still resting over mine and her smile lighting up everything around her, there is only this moment and this woman who, without even trying, has made me forget—even if only for a little while—that my life is split in two.