10. Catholic Guilt #3
“You were blinded by him. From the moment the two of you started dating, he was all you cared about.” I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat.
“All I had was a gut feeling and no proof. Telling you meant asking you to choose between us and I wasn’t willing to risk being passed over by him.
Losing you wasn’t worth it but I guess my sacrifice was in vain because I lost you anyway. ”
“I’m not lost to you.” She pushes her cup aside and reaches across the table. “I could never be lost to you, I—”
Her hand remains empty. It’s there, open for me to take, asking to close the distance. I just can’t bring myself to do it.
“I know that you never really understood why I fell in love with Brent in the first place. I get it. The two of you went to school together, you didn’t get along, and he left a sour taste in your mouth.
Part of me had always hoped that with time you would see the version of him that I did but…
” Karina’s hand is still there. Waiting.
“He just…I don’t know. He really saw me.
Or at least, he made me believe that he did.
“I’m not asking for pity or sympathy or even your understanding. All I want is a chance. An opportunity to try again. We’ve always been so close and I realize now how much I took advantage—”
“You only want to be close to me now because you’re all alone. Not because you miss me.” My throat tightens and burns but I fight hard to keep my composure. “I haven’t forgotten all the horrible things you said to me that night. Or everything else leading up to it.”
“Dahlia—” she quickly swipes away a tear. “About that night—”
“You told me you didn’t believe me. In front of everyone. You defended him, basically called me a liar, and then cast me out of your life. Told me I was desperate for love and attention and that you were done coddling me.”
She covers her face with both hands just in time for a sob to escape. “I was only t-trying to get you to leave—”
“Why!” I cry. “Why? Why do all of that? Why hurt me, humiliate me? What have I ever done to deserve that?”
She inhales shakily and it takes a second for her to catch her breath. “I wasn’t…I couldn’t accept—I wasn’t ready to accept what was happening yet. Please, just let me explain. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. But it’s over. He’s out of my life now and I’m going to divorce him.”
“Right. And now you need me to be there for you?” The words, though broken and cracked, leak with resentment.
“Because now you have no husband, no friends, no Yulissa because she’s probably part of the reason you’re getting divorced in the first place.
So who’s the first person you turn to? Poor, lonely, desperate Dahlia who’ll settle for scraps and bits of attention wherever she can get it. ”
She holds her trembling hands against her chest and looks at me. I gave up all sense of pretense when her attempts at reconciliation became evident. I am angry. And heartbroken and wounded and a million other things because of her.
Karina’s betrayal shattered something fundamental within me.
Whether it was a healthy attachment or not she was my constant.
She represented stability and safety in my life, a family unit I could always fall back on and rely on.
The fracture in our relationship weakened me so profoundly that when Alejandro and I went through our first real conflict, I wasn’t strong enough to keep myself together.
I fell apart and then I fled and I’ve been dealing with the consequences of that for the past year.
What happened between Alejandro and me isn’t Karina’s fault but I can’t help but resent the role her betrayal played in it.
Ever since then I’ve struggled to forgive and struggled to let people in.
I can’t help but wonder how different this last year would’ve been had the night of the ballet never happened.
Would Alejandro and I have fallen apart the way we did or would it have only been a fracture and not a break?
Something we could’ve healed from later on?
I keep thinking about Lyss’s pleas to be open and forgiving. There has to be room here for compassion but I simply haven’t found it within myself yet and I feel guilty for not being more willing to open my heart to her.
As her lips part, the phone in her pocket begins to vibrate. She reaches for it and hits the snooze button on her alarm. A beat passes before she speaks. “I have to get back, I still have another lecture this afternoon. We have so much to talk about and—”
“Actually, I don’t think we do.” I do my best to keep my voice steady. I angle my head to discreetly rub my wet cheek against my shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear about your separation. Let’s leave it at that, I’m not…”
Not willing, not ready, not a million different things.
She blinks profusely and fresh tears roll down the lengths of mascara coated lashes. After taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders she says, “I’m off tomorrow. I’d really like it if you came over for lunch. Around one o’clock?”
She closes her coat and slings her purse over her shoulder as she slides out of the booth. Tosses a few bills onto the table and says, “I really, really hope you come.”