CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX DIEGO
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DIEGO
“?Qué haces?”
Mom’s voice pierces through the thick fog of my mind, bringing me back to a reality that pains me more than I’ll ever admit.
This has been the worst, most agonizing forty-eight hours of my life. Without Alara, I’m nothing. Without Alara, I can’t breathe. The problem is, I have no clue how to fix it, how to approach the situation without hurting both of us even more.
Turning around, I find Mom standing in the doorway to my room with her hands on her hips, frowning. “What are you doing?” she repeats.
“No need for the translation,” I say, with a pinch of humor that doesn’t make either of us crack a smile. Sighing, I look at my opened suitcase. “I’m packing.”
“Why?”
Isn’t it obvious? No one wants me here.
“Did you accept Coach’s offer to go back early?”
“I have to.”
“What does that mean?” She closes the door behind her just as I sit on the bed, leaning forward to place my elbows on my thighs.
I rake my fingers through my mussed-up hair – something I’ve been doing a lot lately, out of frustration – and stare at the carpeted floor.
The edge of the mattress dips when she sits next to me, a comforting hand rubbing my upper back. “Did he not give you a choice?”
When I came back from Alara’s two days ago with dried tears on my cheeks and my anger ready to bubble to the surface, Mom didn’t have to ask a single question.
She instantly knew it was something that had to do with snowboarding and Coach.
I also suspect her of being part of a group chat with Joe and Donna, and they probably told her more than I ever will.
“No, he did,” I answer quietly, rubbing my stubbled jaw with my hand. “I just think it’s the best thing to do.”
“For you or for him?”
I don’t answer because, truthfully, I’m not ready to leave yet.
“He’ll think I’m not serious about reintegrating with the team if I stay here. He’ll think I don’t want to recover.”
“Did he say that?”
“I’m just assuming.”
“Didn’t your dad and I teach you that assumptions are usually wrong? If he never voiced those exact words to you, the chances that he actually thinks that are very low. Besides, wasn’t the plan for you to stay until the end of January? What’s the rush in going back there now?”
I swear, it’s like reliving my argument with Alara all over again, which makes my chest tighten so painfully that I’m nearly gasping for air.
“I don’t know.” My voice breaks, giving Mom a glimpse of my vulnerability. I never break in front of her, let alone my sisters, because I have to be strong for all of them.
I’m lost. Confused. Absolutely devastated not to have the only person who sees me by my side as I’m trying to navigate through all the cobwebs inside my brain.
No matter what happens, I can’t leave without saying goodbye to Alara. I’ll head to her place before going to the airport, but I’m not ready to feel my heart break. I’m not ready to let her go.
I fight the urge to rub my eyes. All I do is blink, repeatedly, to make the burning feeling go away. My head throbs, the lack of sleep catching up in an ache that spreads to the back of my skull.
“Escucha, mi muchachito.” Peering at Mom, I find her tender gaze settled on me.
She lifts her hand that had been coaxing me with soft circles on my back in order to brush my hair out of my forehead, the same way she used to do when I was little as she put me to bed.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry. Very, very sorry. ”
My brows pinch together in confusion. “What for?”
She blows a raspberry, letting her hand fall in her lap to join the other one.
“Well, I want to apologize for having depended so much on you, financially speaking. It was never your job to take on that role, but because you’re so selfless, the man of the family and the oldest sibling, you didn’t even bat an eyelash at putting our needs before your own.
I’ve never wanted you to feel wholly responsible for looking out for Gaby and Valentina and me.
The kid is never supposed to take care of their parents. ”
“Mamá.” I straighten up, a lump building in my throat. “So what was I supposed to do? Let you struggle? That was not an option. I don’t mind helping you, and I’d do it again.”
“I know, but this stops now. I’ve cancelled my yoga classes because I can just buy a mat and find YouTube videos to practice at home.
I’ll stop going out for drinks with my friends every week and invite them over instead.
I’ll stop spending money on things I don’t need, and I’ll take an extra shift at the resort when the situation gets too tight. ”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“I know. I’m self-imposing this so that my son can stop worrying about me.”
“You know that’s going to be impossible for me to do.”
“You’ll learn to. We’ll figure this out.”
I exhale heavily, nodding just because she’s capable of fighting me until I relent.
I don’t tell her this, but I’ll still send her some money every month.
The thought of her depriving herself to survive doesn’t sit right with me.
Mom and my sisters deserve everything, and, while I can, I’ll financially help them.
“What if I never compete again?” The simple act of voicing the thought makes bile rise in my throat.
“Do you have to be so pessimistic?” Mom taunts.
“Realistic,” I correct. “My body might be healing, and I might be making some progress, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to ride again. It could be in two months; it could be a year from now.”
“At least you’re self aware. Two months ago, you’d have shut down at the idea.” She gives me a little smile. “If you can’t compete again, then we will be fine. We’ll take care of each other. You’ll find something that makes you happy, like coaching or instructing at a resort.”
All I can do is nod, forming a back-up plan in my mind just in case everything goes to shit. Mom’s right. I can find something that fuels my adrenaline, such as coaching. The idea of being a snowboard instructor at the resort isn’t a bad idea either.
Wrapping my arms around Mom’s slender shoulders, I pull her in for a tight hug. She returns my affection, softly rubbing my back.
“Te quiero mucho,” she whispers, a sentiment I return without a beat. “Dad would be so proud of you. He’s only ever wanted to see you thrive and succeed in what you love, and he’d be so happy to see all your medals and trophies and achievements.”
We part. Memories veil her eyes as she studies my expression. I know she sees Dad every time she looks at me – everyone says we look alike in every aspect.
“I remember the first board I bought myself,” I say, looking at the picture frame on my dresser – a shot of Dad and me when I was barely five years old, ready to spend a day at the resort.
We were wearing the same gear and I was perched on his shoulders, both our snowboards resting at his feet.
And beside the frame, I catch sight of Alara’s hair ties and clips.
If Mom also sees those, she doesn’t comment on it.
“It was adorable because you kept insisting on using your own money, but what Dad never told you is that he paid for it and put the cash back in your piggy bank.”
My mouth parts in slight surprise as I turn to face Mom again.
She has that glint in her eyes, the one that she always has when talking about Dad.
She’s a beautiful, magnificent woman, and all I wish is for her to find true happiness again.
She never thought of dating after Dad passed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to live the rest of her life without another man.
After all, Dad was and will remain the love of her life.
“I had a feeling.” I chuckle, a sound filled with a sadness I can’t control. “God, I miss him, Ma.”
She lays her head on my shoulder and I place my cheek atop her hair. “I miss him too. So much. But he’s looking over us and making sure we’re all okay.”
“Yeah, he is. Do you miss dancing with him before going to bed?”
There’s a small beat of silence. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Flashes of the night when Alara tugged me out into the snow to dance crash into my mind. My chest hollows out once again, the throbbing pain making a thick lump build inside my throat.
Fuck, I miss her.
I love her. She’s my person.
But I fucked up so bad.
As though Mom has read my mind, she says, “Please tell me you’re going to fix it with Alara.”
Shock skitters down my spine. “How do you even know?”
She pins me with a look. “Seriously? It’s not like either of you were subtle about it.
I saw the way you looked at her. You’ve been spending every hour of every day with her, and suddenly you aren’t anymore and you look like a sick puppy.
” I can’t fight the blush creeping up the back of my neck and the way my pulse starts to quicken.
“Diego, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in years, and you’d have to be a total fool not to see it yourself.
I haven’t seen you so carefree in so long. It makes me happy to see you happy.”
“Gracias, Mamá.” Despite the warmth of her confession, I can’t bring myself to find a sliver of happiness inside me. It’s like the darkness I’ve finally managed to escape has pulled me into its abyss again.
“What’s going on? What happened between you two?”
“I screwed up.”
“How?”
So, I tell her. I tell her that I fell in love with my friend, with the girl who’s helped me salvage myself.
I skip the friends-with-benefits part, but I let her know about how Alara managed to make me understand that I’m so much more than a professional snowboarder and that I’m worthy of happiness and love.
After that, I talk about the argument because of the phone call, and how it’s led to the unbearable distance that now stands between us.
By the time I’m done, I realize there’s a tear that’s escaped my eye. I bat it away, quickly, and, even if Mom notices it, she doesn’t say anything.