33. Diana

Since it’s clear Rodrigo is only hear to sow chaos, I manage to convince him to go back to Colorado after some back-and-forth—without saying goodbye to Cami and Emi.

They’ve had enough drama from their father for one day, to the point where I felt an Irish exit might be easier on them than a dragged out goodbye.

Rodrigo being Rodrigo, he doesn’t leave without imparting some kind of emotional destruction, of course. It was while we were waiting for his Uber that would take him back to the pool house to pick up his things that he managed to get in my head:

“You’re letting Cami and Emi get attached to Michael when the relationship isn’t going to amount to anything is cruel for everyone involved,” he said.

“You don’t know that. This thing between Michael and me—it isn’t casual.”

“Come on, Diana. Jokes and dickish comments aside, you don’t actually believe this is going to work, do you?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” I ground my teeth and crossed my arms in front of my chest, ready to respond to every single challenge he threw back at me.

“Well, let’s start with the most glaringly obvious reason: you live in Colorado and he lives out here.

And before you think about moving as an option, let me nip that in the bud: I’m not going to let you just take Cami and Emi out of state if things ever get serious between you two.

They’re my daughters, too, and they belong close to their father.

So you can pretend all you want that you can make things last between the two of you, but it’s not going to happen.

He has his roots set here and you have them there.

“Second, I know you. I know there’s no fucking way you’re going to be able to be relaxed enough to have a long-distance relationship. I give it three months max before it all blows up. Before you drive each other crazy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Just that I know how you can get. How abrasive and… overwhelming. Obnoxious up there on your high fucking horse. It won’t be too long before he’s asking you for space.

Which will cause the opposite effect, of course.

Because your type-A personality would just kick in and you’d try to fix everything, and end up making it worse.

Imagine our marriage heightened by the stress of distance. ”

It was like getting kicked me in the chest. I wasn’t really that horrible was I? I felt the stinging build in my eyes as I thought about the years I’d wasted on a man whois simultaneously calculatingly cruel and indifferent.

“I didn’t stray—as your lawyer so kindly put it—because you were the world’s best wife.” Rodrigo looked at me expectantly. “This can’t be news to you. I mean, yes, I fucked up. I cheated. But, you—you weren’t exactly perfect, Diana. You were… demanding. Naggy. And, frankly, exhausting.”

I knew what he was doing. I knew that he was trying to mess with my mind and my heart. And yet…

Every single word that came out of his mouth cut me like one of Michael’s super sharp, super fancy knives.

“You have to be careful with them,” he’d explained on one of the many nights he cooked us dinner.

“Because they’re less dangerous than owning a dull knife, of course.

But if you do accidentally cut yourself…

Well, it’ll be deep. And they’re so damn sharp, at first, you don’t even realize you’ve hurt yourself until the entire damn cutting board is covered in blood. ”

So when Rodrigo’s words hit my ears, my first instinct was to laugh at his sad attempt to throw me off.

But somehow he managed to weasel himself into my head.

Into my heart. Somehow, his words wrapped around my brain and convinced me that he’s right.

That even though I know he’s telling me all this to hurt me, he isn’t exactly wrong.

“You’re going to fuck things up. And it’s going to fuck things up for my daughters, too. They’re already too attached to the loser. My advice? End it. End it before they get even more attached. You’re going to hurt Emi and Cami. And haven’t they been through enough?”

I looked away, hating how much Rodrigo’s words made sense in my head. Because he’s right. The girls have grown attached—to Rachel and Michael. I’ve grown attached. And I’m not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. Especially not now. Not after everything.

As soon as I walk back into the restaurant, my eyes fall on our table. On the easy way Michael and Rachel and Emi and Cami interact. On the way he tells Cami, “This is the veggie dish I made you a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says softly, smiling up at him. “I really liked that one.”

He beams down at her. “It’s why I put it on the menu. You guys are my toughest critics, so I thought if it was a winner with you, then…”

Emi giggles. “I’m not sure I would call you a winner just yet…”

Michael brings his hands to his chest, mock-dying from a gunshot wound, I suppose. “You’re killing me.”

“Da-ad,” Rachel whines, rolling her eyes.

And it’s such a beautiful scene. Such a lovely, glorious scene.

I want to cry.

I do cry.

I cry because I want it. I want it every day of my life starting from this very second. I want him and Rachel and us together.

Family, I think. This is family.

And while I had exactly that growing up, it never translated into the one I tried to have with Rodrigo.

He was lazy and neglectful—Weaponized Incompetency was his middle name.

So I grew resentful and bitter. Tired of having everything fall on my shoulders constantly.

Tired of always being the one taking care of everyone.

I’ve never truly had the familial experience I had this summer—only as a child. And even then, I was held responsible for my little sisters’ actions. Asked to teach them how to act, make sure they were okay. That they were acclimating to the US as best as possible. I was parent 2.5, it feels like.

And now that I have a taste for it—the perfect partner, with the exceptional kids—I’m on the precipice of losing it all. Be it in one, two, six months—even a year—or now.

Now would be better.

Now would be the best thing for all of us.

Now would mean less of a mess—as clean a break as we can get.

It would save us time. Pain. Arguments and discussions. A lot of heartache.

It would upset the girls at first, I think. But over time, they’d see it would be for the best. They can remain long-distance friends without the pressures of having their parents be in a relationship. Without having the subconscious instinct to pick sides.

Rodrigo is right—letting Cami and Emi grow attached only to have another man they love disappear would be a nightmare. Too much for them to bear. And while I won’t shoulder the entirety of the blame for the divorce—not even the majority of it—this would absolutely be on me.

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