50. Maricela
Raven’s gallery is full of paintings that have yet to be hung on the walls. Most of them are her creations. I recognize her optimism and how colors explode from everywhere. Every abstract painting reaches the depths of my soul.
I decide to call Miriam and recruit her help as she’s been asking if she could come to see me, and I suspect she wants to try to convince me to come back to work for Maverick.
Still, Miriam can help with my plans, and at the same time, I can show her that I have a new life now, and I’m not going anywhere, especially not back to work for Maverick Hope.
No matter what happens between Killian and me, I have the kids now, and I have no intention of giving them up.
But right now, my focus is on doing what I can for Raven. I know that if I don’t do everything in my power to help Raven realize her dream and if everything isn’t the way she wants it when she returns, she won’t easily get over the loss of time. If there’s one thing I know my best friend hates, it’s wasted time.
“The walls are too white,” Miriam begins.
“Because the works are full of color. The art is the main attraction here.” I study a black rose that looks like it’s melting after having been splashed with colorful acid. The words “Death By Life” are written in Raven’s neat script beneath the frame.
“Maybe a black wall could work with some of the art. We could paint two walls black and leave the others white.”
“Sounds good. Black always goes well as a contrast. You can take care of the art, and I’ll contact people who can write articles about the place. You’ll have to give me a date, though.”
Miriam disappears to make her calls, leaving me with Lila, who decided she should repay me for her actions. Turns out Lila understands aesthetics much better than I do.
“What about the restaurant?” Lila asks, examining the area adjacent to the gallery.
I don’t think the scent of food should permeate here, but Raven insists it will pull more people inside to view her paintings and other works of art.
“People are no longer interested in viewing art as they once were. The power of AI is harmful to artists like me. If my art isn’t interesting on its own merits, maybe some good desserts and quality coffee will bring them in.”
Raven’s voice echoes in my head and brings tears to my eyes. My only hope is Liam. He has to bring her back. He may not have seen himself the moment we knew Alec had taken her, but I did. He’s entirely in love with her, and if anyone is going to get her back, it will be Liam.
“All done,” Miriam announces as she comes out of the back office with a wide grin on her face. “I have several channels ready for you.” I force a smile. She can’t smell any story here and is probably already antsy to move on.
Studying Lila and me, Miriam asks, “What are we looking at?”
“The new restaurant that will be here,” Lila explains.
“That’s brilliant.” That’s who Raven is: brilliant, just like her twin brother.
I shake my head. “A restaurant would be too intrusive on the gallery,” I reply, thinking out loud. “It should be something less. We don’t want people to sit and talk or stare at their phones. The art should be the feature.”
“Patisserie,” Lila states firmly. “You want a patisserie. If we create an open area, we entice people to sit between the paintings while they enjoy smooth coffee and luscious desserts.”
“I love that idea,” Miriam cheers.
“Good art and scrumptious desserts. What more could you ask for?”
To have Raven here running the show. I don’t say it, but Lila must see something in my expression because she hugs me without saying anything. We don’t dare talk about what happened to Raven in front of Miriam. This hug is too much as it is.
The sound of a camera goes off like a bomb in the near-empty space, and I know it’s not coming from Miriam because she doesn’t play with cameras. I turn around, and I see Maverick looking at me. I don’t bother to wonder how he knew I would be here. He has his ways and his people. But I do wonder if Miriam had anything to do with it.
I approach him and see that he’s grinning at what he caught on camera. I wonder what he witnessed. He was always a talented photographer.
It’s as if he doesn’t know how to communicate with the world properly because the only place he can truly express himself correctly is through the camera.
“Why are you here?” I know my voice is cold. He had no right to tell Killian anything. Miriam scurries away, probably wanting to look like she isn’t listening. She’s always done that.
“You hate me, huh?” I don’t answer that question.
By now, he knows I hate him. Our relationship was destroyed when he tried to get me to sleep with him.
He promised he would make me forget the rape. He even promised he would make Franco pay. I’m ashamed to admit even to myself that I almost took him up on his offer. I was in a fragile place, and he wanted to take me to bed. I needed someone to want me, and I almost fell for it.
“Well, I deserve it, I guess.”
“Why are you here?” I ask again. “I don’t have all the time in the world. I’m busy.”
“With Miriam, of all people? You know she’s a snake just like me.” He’s not wrong. Miriam will ruin anyone for a good story. That’s why I’ve kept my distance from her all these years. But the publicity she could get for this place is a necessity. I hope, however small the chance, that Raven will see this article.
“I’m going to make you hate me even more now, but this has to come from me because I’m almost certain he won’t tell you anything, and truly I will rejoice in it.”
Maverick looks down at his shoes one moment, and the next, he sends me a devilish grin before dropping the bomb on me. “I told Killian about your...miscarriage.”
My hands start to shake, then another part of my body and another, until I’m shaking from the inside, and everything goes black.
“Maricela,” a woman’s quiet, gentle voice calls. I’m pretty sure it’s Lila, but it doesn’t quite sound like her. “You’d better get out of here, Professor. I called Killian, and this won’t end well.”
“I’m not going anywhere. This was all my fault.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on here, Boss Man? What did you do to Jimena, or Maricela, or whatever her name is? I don’t understand anything that’s happening, and you know I don’t like not understanding things.”
“Miriam, shut up,” Maverick demands.
I’m sure it’s him. I used to think he had a beautiful voice, just like snakes have beautiful scales.
“I’m asking both of you to get out of here and leave my friend alone.”
“Since when is Maricela your friend? You’re her bully. You abused her more than any human being I know.”
“And you didn’t do anything about it because of the money I have.”
“You’re no more powerful than I am,” he tells her. Now, my ex-teacher and former boss is like everyone else, trying to show that his bank account is greener.
They continue arguing, and I think Lila’s winning the debate.
“You’re just a miserable human being. You couldn’t find someone to love you, so you married someone who gave you power and money. Remember what you taught us in class? You convinced us we should feel bad about ourselves. You always looked down on us. The only one you praised was Maricela, and it wasn’t because of her talent. Wait, I take that back. From what I’ve heard, she’s definitely talented, or she wouldn’t have made a better war photographer than you.”
“She’s not a better photographer.”
Yes, Lila wins the argument.
“Sure. We heard all about your awards. You did everything to flaunt your name and accomplishments, and Maricela did everything for the truth. That’s the difference between you. And now what? You’re mad because you couldn’t fuck her after she left school, so you’re doing everything you can to separate her from the man she loves?”
“But Boss Man is married,” Miriam intervenes. “Why would he want— Wait a minute. Are you cheating on your wife?”
I know this voice. It’s a voice ready to overthrow people and entire lives for journalistic truth. If I could, I would laugh, but it feels like everything is happening so far away as if I’m not lying on a cold and dirty floor.
“I’m not cheating on my wife. She was just a student, and I gave her a career opportunity. She came from great poverty, and no one would have known about Maricela if it wasn’t for her sister marrying into a wealthy family.”
I hear Miriam scoff. “No one does know about Maricela. She kept her identity a secret because publicity didn’t interest her. She’s an amazing photographer who did her job better than anyone else I know.” Miriam says the words as if they’re facts, and he can’t argue with her.
“You see?” Lila gloats.
“She’s a real photographer. She chooses to stay behind the scenes.” Lila sounds just like she did when we were in college, but this time, I’m not her target.
“She’s been like this for a while,” Miriam says now. “I really think we should call an ambulance.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Killian. It’s Killian, and he knows everything. My body stiffens even more if that’s possible.
“You, with the tight curls. What are you doing here?”
“I’m a journalist, and Maricela invited me here. You’re Killian Fierro, the holder of F.K.B.L, aren’t you? There are a lot of rumors going around about you.”
“That’s nothing new.”
Killian’s obvious exasperation helps me relax a little. He almost sounds amused by the situation.
“Listen to me, truth chaser. My fiancée collapsed, and instead of taking care of her, what did you do? What are you doing now?”
Fiancée? I killed my child, maybe his child.
“Sir, I’m a journalist. I’m not a doctor.”
“Exactly, and that’s why you should have called an ambulance first thing.”
A warm and pleasant hand cups my cheek. I want to open my eyes, but I can’t seem to do so. I’ve never felt so safe. It’s funny how I’ve never once felt afraid of his touch since I returned.
“I’ll call,” Maverick says, his voice shaking.
My body seeks Killian’s touch once more, and as if he knows I need it, he caresses my hair, his fingers tickling my scalp.
“Get out of here! All of you. We don’t need you. Lila, take care of it, please.”
“Sure thing. Just promise me you won’t give up on her. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
I want to tell Lila that I am guilty, that I murdered the child in my womb, that I hurt myself on purpose. That it’s my fault I can’t fulfill Killian’s dream and mine, too. That I ruined everything.
“You’re shaking,” Killian murmurs into my ear.
“I don’t hate you. I hate myself. Please open your eyes. They’re gone now.”
I want to do as he says, but I can’t. Soft lips brush mine.
“I don’t hate you,” he repeats and follows with a kiss on my cheek.
“I don’t blame you.” Then comes a gentle touch on my arm.
The same arm Franco broke.
“I love you.” A kiss on my neck.
The same spot where I let Killian take my breath away, the same place where his father almost strangled me.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you,” he says, his lips continuing to search for skin.
Gentle words full of love I have never heard from him continue to caress my skin and soul.
My eyes open, and as if of their own accord, my arms wrap around his shoulders. Not the embrace I give him nor the tears that flow down my face for the first time show the depth of my remorse for what I did to the one who could have been our child.
I don’t know how long I cry in his arms, but when I finally regain my voice, I tell him everything.
I tell him about the moment I realized I was pregnant. The facts come out of me one after the other. About how I beat on my stomach, but that wasn’t enough for me, and I took a knife and inserted it into my uterus, trying to get the child out. I even tell him how I wanted to end my life.
All the words come out without fear. I tell him everything from the scene in the school cafeteria and the video Lila played evidencing his deceit to Franco’s brutal rape and Serena’s confession and betrayal.
I repeat every memory of every moment after Pedro carried me away up until I left with Maverick for my first job. And I know that my every word burns Killian completely. Everything I say to him makes him hate me a little more.
“I know you hate me. I know everything I did is unforgivable. I killed a child that could have been yours. Fuck, it could have been your brother,” I say against his chest.
The last ounce of strength leaves my body as soon as I say that last word and my weight collapses against him. He holds me, and I feel it. For the first time, I feel Killian’s tears. He’s crying.
“Don’t kick me out, please. You can rebuild your life. I understand that you don’t want me anymore, but let me be a part of the kids’ lives. Please don’t take them away from me.”
It will kill me, but I’ll understand. He has the right to find himself a wife who didn’t betray him by killing a child that might have been his and damaging her womb beyond repair.
“Maricela...” he whispers, and I know that what he says now will destroy me entirely.