Chapter Twenty-six
Over the next few days, I mull over my options. Ella, I know, has noticed how withdrawn I’ve become. I feel I’m forcing jollity, as just when I think I’ve made a decision about my future, a throwaway comment from someone makes me change my mind. How can I not go after the future I’d always dreamed of? Costa Rica is lovely, but am I kidding myself about living here for a sustained period of time? Whereas going to university, studying to become a vet, would provide me with a solid future, a steady income, and then I’d be set up for life.
Becca and I had talked through my options the other night, with her, as ever, the voice of reason. She’d even suggested there may be a similar course here in Costa Rica, yet she wouldn’t influence me either way, which frustrated me, despite me knowing she was doing it for my own good. And she’s right, it is too big a decision for her to make it for me, and I’m thirty; I shouldn’t need my best friend to make my decisions for me. That wasn’t really what I was after anyway. I just wanted advice and to discuss my bouncy ball thoughts with someone, instead of simply allowing them to boing around inside my head, driving me to distraction.
And I know Dexter has detected a change in me the past few days, and nights. We’ve still made love and it has been kind of intense. Sometimes I’ve had to will myself not to cry as I contemplate whether I can leave, risking everything we have. Will Dexter stay here forever? Will he ever return to Ireland? I don’t have any control over his life. I could turn down my place at uni, only for him to say he’s going back to Waterford, or moving on to another country in Central or South America. And does he feel as strongly about me as I feel about him? The way he is with me makes me think he does, but I don’t know for sure– and I’m too scared to ask. How would that leave things if he wasn’t as invested in this relationship as I am? Ugh. My head hurts. It has done ever since the letter arrived. I’d received my acknowledgement email when I applied in January, but then in May, the university notified me that the course was oversubscribed and that unfortunately they couldn’t offer me a place.
Is fate playing a hand here? I’m in Costa Rica. The fact the postal service managed successfully to forward my mail here, and nothing happened to it en route, is nothing short of a miracle and suggests the stars were aligning to allow me to have this chance at going to university. And that’s all well and good, but it doesn’t help me with my dilemma. I love Dexter. I’m also in love with Dexter. And although I’ve been reluctant to admit this, it’s a fact, and I don’t know what to do about it.
How can the universe be so cruel– or kind– as to offer me two things I’ve always wanted at the same time, but which are largely incompatible: life here with Dexter, life at uni back in Scotland? It doesn’t seem fair. Maybe I should be grateful, but despite both things being wonderful, given the dilemma it puts me in, I feel as if I’m stuck between a rock and not just a hard place, but a place strewn with broken glass and covered in thorns.
I give a start as Luciana taps on the door then comes into the nursery, where I’m feeding the babies. I like it here, it’s so tranquil, but it does give me rather too much time with my own thoughts. I can’t escape them, much as I’d like to right now. On the plus side, I can hide away and no one can see the conflicted feelings written across my face.
‘Time for me to take over. Lunch for you,’ Luciana says, reaching for Bolt.
I pass him over and head to the bathroom to freshen up.
Federica has saved me a spot by her and Mariangeles. They, and Ella, are like the sisters I never had. Federica is the calm, measured one with Mariangeles the feisty, forthright one. She doesn’t mince her words. Ella would be the sweet one, the youngest of the group. I don’t only have to think carefully about my relationship with Dexter when coming to this crucial life decision, I need to factor my friendship with them into the equation too.
We catch up on each other’s day so far and soon I sense Dexter behind me again.
‘Hi.’ He drops a kiss on my head and swings a seat over from another table as the girls budge up a little to give him room. ‘How has your morning been?’
‘I’ve been living it up with Bolt and Rocket,’ I say.
He grins. ‘You know how to party!’
As we eat, Mariangeles leads the conversation, enthusing over some music gig that’s on near the beach at the weekend, whilst Federica tells us that Nicolás has invited us to a party at his– again, although this time for someone else’s birthday– the week after next. If it’s anything like the party he and Oscar threw me, it will be fabulous.
I zone out partly as I mull over what to say to Dexter. Finally, once the three girls are caught up in talking about the band who’s playing the gig– I didn’t hear the name– I ask Dexter, ‘Have you got ten minutes after lunch? I wanted to talk to you about something.’
He raises a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Should I be worried?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I’d just like to run something past you.’
He nods. ‘Sure. Let’s finish this and then we’ll go for a walk so we can talk in peace.’ His head inclines towards the others, who are half-listening to our conversation. What’s new?
Ten minutes later, we head out into the foyer, then pass through into the road beyond.
We saunter along for a few minutes, saying nothing before Dexter turns to me. ‘Kat, didn’t you want to tell me something?’
I sigh. ‘Sorry. I’m just… I don’t know how…’
Dexter pales and grasps me lightly by the shoulders, turning me towards him. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’
Fear flashes in his eyes as he awaits my response, and I shake my head so he doesn’t have to worry about that at least. He audibly exhales, and I sense his relief like it’s part of me.
‘Thank God for that. So, what’s going on?’
We come to a part of the road that has a bench set into the side of it. I’ve always thought how incongruous a bench is here, because it’s not as if many people walk this road. Perhaps it was built for sloths to rest on, or climb on. I smile inwardly at the idea. Anything to procrastinate that little bit more.
‘Can we sit down?’ I think I might only be able to spit this out if I do.
We both sit on the knobbly old bench, which seems to be fashioned from some sort of tree trunk, without the intervention of a furniture manufacturer to make it smooth and uniform. It makes me wonder who put it here and when.
OK, no more delaying. I take a deep breath in and grasp Dexter’s hands in mine. He jerks slightly as if I’ve given him an electric shock. Damn, I have him on edge now, and that only ratchets my nerves up a notch.
Belatedly, it occurs to me that I may be worrying over nothing. Maybe Dexter doesn’t see our relationship as a long-term one. Maybe this is just a little fun to him, and I’m about to make an idiot of myself by going into elaborate detail about the dilemma I’m in. But I won’t know if I don’t tell him.
‘Dexter, you know how I told you I wanted to be a vet?’
He nods. ‘Yeah, you said you didn’t get the grades to get into uni to do that particular course.’
‘That’s right. I didn’t. But earlier this year, I applied to do veterinary medicine at Glasgow uni.’
‘Right,’ he says, letting the word stretch out between us.
‘I didn’t get a reply. Well, I got an acknowledgement, but not an acceptance,’ I rush on.
His shoulders visibly relax, but that’s about his only tell. I deliberately leave a pause to allow him to pitch in with his thoughts, but no, it looks like I’m doing this alone.
I steel myself to deliver the final blow. ‘The other day I got a letter from home.’ I gulp and I’m suddenly aware of the acid reflux in my stomach. Please don’t let me be sick. Now is not the time.
‘It was from Glasgow uni. An error meant I was wrongly told back in May that my course was oversubscribed.’ I pause, letting the implication sink in.
‘You got into uni to do veterinary medicine?’ Dexter’s face lights up.
I swallow hard. ‘I did.’ I blow out a breath. ‘It starts mid-September.’
Dexter reaches for me and hugs me to him. ‘Well done. You must be so pleased.’ He kisses the top of my head, but it means I can’t see his face, particularly his eyes or his mouth, to see if he is genuinely happy or if he’s pretending. I don’t know whether to be pleased, relieved, or gutted that he’s taking this so well. His response was so cryptic.
When we pull apart, I take hold of his hands. ‘Dexter, I don’t know what to do. It’s everything I’ve always wanted, but now, here, this feels like everything I’ve ever wanted, too, and now I’m torn.’ I leave unsaid that he’s all I’ve ever wanted as well. Let him read between the lines. Surely my feelings for him are plain enough.
We haven’t told each other we love each other yet, but I know in my heart, without a single ounce of doubt, that I love this man. And I’m not eighteen any more. I’m thirty. I’m not in the first flush of love, but if my toxic relationship with Aidan taught me anything, it’s not to wait. Not to stay in something that’s harmful to you, and instead to fight for what’s wonderful and worthwhile. But that is making the decision over whether to go to uni or not all the more difficult.
Dexter places one hand against my cheek, looks into my eyes and says, ‘You must do what’s right for you, Kat. You don’t need to rush into it. Take some time to consider what you really want. When do you need to accept your place by?’
I shake my head as if to clear it. I have no idea. That hadn’t even occurred to me. I just assumed I pitched up on the day if I was taking the place, that they’d expect me to turn up unless I advise them otherwise.
‘I don’t know…’ My speech falters. ‘Dex–’ it’s now or never. I have to tell him how I feel. I need to know if he wants me to stay. If he doesn’t, then perhaps the decision is easier, although I’d still be leaving my sloth family and friends. Maybe I could return… but I know I wouldn’t. Once you’re on the career path, you’re on the career path, and it’s hard to step off that hamster wheel.
I take deep, calming breaths as I will myself to say those three little words that mean so much but which are so incredibly difficult to say for the first time.
‘Dexter.’ I take one of his hands in mine and look into his eyes, willing him to understand what I’m trying to say, what I’m about to say, to give me a sign that I’m on the right track and not about to make a complete fool of myself.
‘I–’
A car rumbles towards us. No doubt it’s visitors to the sanctuary. But then it draws to a halt, level with us, and a woman rolls down the window. ‘Dexter! Just the man I’ve been looking for.’
Dexter turns around, and his face turns a ghostly white for a second, before he recovers. ‘Maite!’
Maite? Maite!
The woman turns off her engine and gets out of the car, coming over and kissing Dexter on both cheeks. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’ She turns to me. ‘Sorry, I’m Maite. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was on my way to the sanctuary to see Dexter, when I saw you both sitting here.’ She turns to Dexter. ‘Looking for some peace and quiet, I take it.’
He nods mutely before Maite turns to me. ‘We used to come and sit here all the time to get away from things too.’
‘Oh, did you work at the sanctuary?’ I ask, keen to double-check I have the right person.
She smiles. ‘Yes, last year. Don’t tell me I’m so instantly forgettable that no one has mentioned me.’ She bats Dexter on the arm. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
Dexter, for the first time ever, seems lost for words. He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve noticed he does when he’s nervous. But why’s he nervous? Because he hasn’t mentioned Maite to me before?
He clears his throat. ‘Of course. Maite, this is Kat. Kat, Maite.’
Maite leans forward as best she can and kisses me on both cheeks. ‘Nice to meet you, Kat.’ She glances at Dexter. ‘When are you free? I need to talk to you.’
There’s an undercurrent from Dexter that I can’t quite place. He’s looking at Maite, but keeps throwing glances at her stomach.
Suddenly, the desire to throw up comes over me. She’s pregnant, very pregnant, probably about six or seven months. She wants to talk to Dexter. She worked at the sanctuary last year, only a few months ago potentially. Dexter is looking in alarm at her stomach. Oh my God, she’s pregnant and it’s Dexter’s. That’s why she said she was surprised he hadn’t mentioned her to me. My vision blurs slightly, although whether from me feeling faint or because I’m having difficulty breathing, I can’t be sure. What I do know is I need to get out of here.
‘I told Victor I’d check in with him shortly.’ A lie. ‘I’ll leave you guys to talk. Nice to meet you, Maite.’ I try and fail not to put emphasis on the word ‘talk’, then I almost jog back to the sanctuary.
Mariangeles is in the foyer when I rush past to the toilets.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asks but I simply shake my head and race into the bathroom, where I close myself in a cubicle and let the tears flow.