44
I parked the Audi near Max”s house, sent him the location, and then blocked his number. Then, I stopped by his house to pick up my belongings under the steely gaze of his mother. I took a cab to the airport and spent everything I had left on a flight home with a stopover in Paris. As we ascended over the green Slovenian landscape, I said goodbye through the window to a country full of lies where I had found absolutely nothing.
Once I landed in the French capital, I turned on my phone to find seven more messages from Pedro. I wondered what had made him come back so suddenly after almost twenty days of silence. I didn”t know, but his call had always been like a damned siren song for me, dragging me helplessly to the rocks into which I always ended up crashing.
With a sigh, I dialed my former lover”s number, praying that my mother”s ghost couldn’t see me in such a dishonorable position.
“I miss you,” Pedro purred as he picked up the phone. “Where have you been?”
“I was traveling,” I replied reluctantly as I tried to locate a restroom in the crowded airport.
“You have to come back. Martha isn’t good with customers. The company needs you.”
“The company? Or you?”
Silence.
“I’ll come back, but only until the end of the month and only because I need the money.”
A muffled groan echoed down the line. The wheels of my suitcase got stuck on a step, and I moved the phone away from my ear for a moment to pull it off.
“Vesna...” Pedro said, his voice wheedling, “I need to see you. Almudena has left me. She”s gone to Cordoba with her mother. She’s found out everything and says she’s going to give birth to the child there...” He sighed. “Without me.”
So that was it.
“I don”t know what to say, Pedro.” I looked up, scrutinizing the Charles de Gaulle departure board. “I”m arriving at Barajas airport late tonight. I”ll be tired, so I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can talk.”
“No. Tell me what time you land, and I can pick you up.”
“At midnight,” I said and instantly regretted it.