CHAPTER 11
THE EARLY MORNING CALL
Barbara
“This can’t be happening again,” I tell myself as Lidia quietly closes the door to her bungalow, as if the simple act of slamming it or not might make the situation even worse.
“This is just unbelievable…” I blurt out as I take a deep breath once, twice, three times. There’s no way we can live with this tension for the next few weeks. “No, no way. In the end, we’ll end up pulling each other’s hair out or even worse… causing a scene at her father’s wedding.”
“But seriously, again… adjoining bungalows…” I let out a brief, ironic laugh and run a hand over my face, trying to shake off the exhaustion from the trip and the disbelief.
“I really shouldn’t have listened to him…” I tell myself as I let myself be swept away by that tangle of emotions I’m carrying inside and start walking. “I’d be better off at home, with Ingrid… enjoying the team’s last game. Not here…”
I unlock my phone and urgently dial Ingrid’s number.
I need to talk to her. Not because she’s going to solve my problems. On the contrary, she has no way of doing that, but I need to anchor myself to my present, to her, to my real life far from these idyllic beaches and that smell of the sea that clings to your skin.
Besides, she’ll be alone on the bench today, and even though she’s spent the last few hours hiding it from me, I know that facing the final game alone has her very nervous.
The ringtone starts playing as I walk along the sand.
I need fresh air, I need space, I need distance.
I don’t even know when I took off my sandals, but I’m enjoying the sensation of the sand caressing the soles of my feet.
The call keeps ringing. I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder as I walk around a small cluster of palm trees and head toward the beach, letting the night breeze guide me.
As if I’d asked for it, as if my mind were determined to punish me and make my life a little more miserable, the memories of my first time in the Maldives surge through me, painfully vivid, painfully clear.
I close my eyes as I keep walking and am able to vividly recall that night, the way Lidia turned toward me when I offered to help, sizing up whether she could trust a stranger who was sipping a cocktail at the bar before dinnertime.
Her voice seemed dangerously attractive to me then.
That night was the first time I heard her laugh—clear, warm, and surprisingly sincere.
I remember laughing wholeheartedly. I remember accepting without hesitation when she invited me over to thank me for helping her.
I remember being stunned by the way her eyes sparkled in the light of the beach bar.
I should have run away right then, knowing what would happen years later, but I couldn’t help myself.
Lidia had me hooked, and I had no choice but to let her sweep me away.
That night we walked together through the resort with no particular destination, in no hurry at all, letting the conversation flow as if we’d known each other our whole lives.
That night we talked about everything and nothing, shared confidences and things I normally keep to myself, laughed at absurd college anecdotes, and I felt the chemistry between us grow as time went on.
Until we reached her bungalow, right next to mine.
Another absurd coincidence that, at the time, we interpreted as something fun and full of possibilities.
And now, however, it feels like a cruel and heavy-handed joke of fate.
The ringtone keeps ringing in my ear, and I keep walking until the sound of the sea becomes more enveloping.
The phone stops ringing suddenly, and for a second I think Ingrid isn’t going to answer, that maybe I caught her busy with something for the team. But just as I’m about to end the call, she picks up on the other end.
“Barbara?” she asks. “Are you there?”
Hearing her voice has an immediate effect on me. It’s as if someone has turned down the volume of the chaos roaring inside my head, allowing me to breathe for the first time in hours.
“Hi,” I reply, letting out a long sigh I didn’t even know I’d been holding in. “Were you busy? Sorry to call you so soon.”
“No, don’t worry. Is everything okay?” she asks, concerned. “I’m at the team hotel…” she pauses briefly, “things are pretty tense around here.”
“I can only imagine,” I say as I sit down on the cool sand, wrapping my free arm around my knees. “Sorry to take up your time. I’m sure the girls are nervous.”
“No, don’t worry,” she replies right away, and I can almost picture her: dressed in her sports gear, in her bedroom, going over the players’ physical condition. “You know I could use a little rest. I was just reviewing a few things.”
“No matter how much you go over it, you’re not going to improve our players’ fitness. We’ve given it our all; now it’s up to them to do the same on the field.”
She laughs, and I smile. Ingrid has always had very strong habits, that iron discipline I admire so much and that, back then, helped me put all the bad times I’d had with Lidia behind me.
“Did you get there okay?” she adds with genuine concern.
I look at the sea in front of me. Dark. Endless. Much calmer than the whirlwind inside my head.
“Yeah… more or less.” I pause briefly, searching for the right words.
“It was absolute chaos. Crowded airports, endless waits, the desperation of trying to find a ticket for the ferry… In the end, I managed to get the last one of the day,” I explain in detail, “but I think it was the worst trip of my life. The sea was rough, and I couldn’t stop thinking that at any moment I was going to end up throwing up in front of everyone. ”
Ingrid laughs softly, with that low, warm laugh that always manages to relax me a little.
“Did you get really seasick?” she asks curiously.
“I was about to make a scene,” I confess, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly as I say it.
“I would have loved to see that,” she jokes affectionately.
“You’re terrible,” I reply, though I can’t help but smile.
“I know,” she replies, a smile clearly in her voice. “But tell me you survived and didn’t have to call for help.”
“Barely,” I admit, and we both laugh. For a few minutes, everything feels simple, light, and familiar.
We talk about the trip in more detail, about how tired I am after so many hours of waiting, about how much I need a full night’s sleep without interruptions, and about how beautiful the starry sky looks from here, as if the stars wanted to make up for such a horrible day.
And for a moment, truly, I forget about Lidia.
Until Ingrid asks the inevitable question, the one I’d been dreading myself.
“Have you thought about when you’ll meet up with Pablo?” she says casually. “I’m sure he’ll be in for a huge surprise when you suddenly show up.”
My laughter gets stuck halfway down my throat. I look out at the dark sea, swallow hard, and, as always, let the truth come out unfiltered, unvarnished.
“I was the one who got the surprise when I ran into Lidia,” I confess in a low voice. “I knew we’d see each other, but damn, not right after I got here.”
I don’t like the silence that falls on the other end of the line at all, and I wonder if I was wrong to tell her so matter-of-factly.
“Wow…”
I’d like to believe that nothing’s wrong, that the idea of what might happen doesn’t bother her, but I can’t help being on edge.
“Yeah, well,” I add, trying to downplay it even though I know it’s pointless. “It was… completely unexpected, and I didn’t really know how to react.”
“I understand…” she replies slowly.
Another pause. This time a little longer.
“Maybe you should have waited a week. That way I could have gone with you,” she blurts out suddenly, and her voice takes on that insecurity I rarely hear in her.
“That way I would have met her and, well… you wouldn’t be alone.
I wanted to believe you’d gotten over it, but it’s clear it still affects you. ”
“What?” I ask, needing to make sure I heard her correctly.
The comment leaves me completely thrown off balance.
Not because she isn’t right in what she says, but because of how she says it.
I catch a glimpse of jealousy beneath the surface, and it’s something so strange in Ingrid that I don’t know how to react.
So I stay silent until I find a way to continue the conversation.
“Ingrid…”
“What?”
I frown slightly as I watch the waves gently breaking in the distance.
“I’ll be fine, okay?” I say gently. “Besides, you don’t need to know someone who’s no longer part of my life.”
“I didn’t say it was necessary,” she replies quickly. “I’m just saying that… well, never mind.”
I’m not quite sure what to say. Because this is new. Ingrid has never had a problem with my past. She’s never seemed uncomfortable when I’ve mentioned Lidia in previous conversations. She’s never…
“My thing with her is in the past. You know how hard it was for me,” I finally say, in a firmer tone than I expected.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, she can’t stand me, and I doubt we’ll see much of each other in the days leading up to the wedding.
We’re two adults who can survive a wedding. ”
“Sure,” Ingrid replies after a few seconds, though her voice sounds less convinced than I’d like. “If you say so.”
The remark is neutral, but I’m not a kid, and I can read between the lines. And that makes me really uncomfortable.
“Ingrid…”
“Hey,” she cuts me off gently, almost tenderly. “I have to go. You know the girls always need us for some silly thing.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me.
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”
“Get some rest, okay? Try to get some sleep and regain your strength.”
“I’ll try,” I promise, without much conviction.
“We’ll talk later. I’ll keep you posted on everything.”
“Okay.”
The call ends and silence envelops me once more. The sea is still there, unchanging, indifferent to everything. I lower the phone slowly and tuck it into my pants pocket. I stare into the darkness for a long moment, Ingrid’s words echoing in my head.
“Is it really nothing to worry about, Barbara?” I whisper to myself, as if voicing the question could dissolve the tension I feel in my chest.
But it is something to worry about, because deep down I know that things with Lidia aren’t going to be easy. Because I know that seeing her again has affected me. Because this knot in my stomach and that electric current that appeared between us when we saw each other again is no coincidence.