Forever Baby (35 page)

“I will be at my friend’s house a few miles away. As soon as you want me to pick you up, text me, and I will be here in minutes. Okay?” Nadia gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod and step out of her car.

As I’m facing Andres’s door, the cadence of my heartbeat is pounding a mile a minute. I tentatively knock and wait. Andres opens the door and peers at me with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and anger. He is standing there in only a pair of shorts, and I have to reach out and brace myself against the trim of the doorway because the sight of his bare chest is sending a mad rush to my brain, causing me to feel faint.

In a jaded tone, he asks, “What are you doing here, Olivia?”

It takes me a few seconds to find my voice. “Um…I thought we could talk.”

Andres dips his head to his chest, closing his eyes, as he takes a deep breath.

After a few moments of silence, I add, “Please?”

Without saying anything, he opens the door wide and waits as I walk through. He shuts the door behind us, and I follow him up to the roof patio. I take a seat on the outdoor sofa and watch as he puts on a T-shirt.

Thank God.
That was more sexy distraction than I could take. “I was afraid you might have company,” I say tentatively.

“No one has slept over since you, Olivia,” he says dryly.

Oh, that’s a good sign.

He walks over and stands several feet from the sofa with his hands in his pockets. “Talk,” he prompts with a thick air of dejection in his voice.

This is so awkward.
My hands feel sweaty from nerves, and I wipe them on my shorts.

“Can you sit down, please? You are making me nervous,” I say.

He sighs and steps forward, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. He turns toward me and waits.

“Um…I don’t really know where to start,” I admit.

We sit in silence for a few breaths, staring at one another, and it is taking every ounce of self-control I have not to lunge toward him and wrap myself around his beautiful body. I am dying to kiss him, touch him, and feel him in any way that I can. To be this close to him and not be connected in some way is torture. He waits in silence, and it is obvious that he isn’t going to make this easy on me, but then again, I don’t deserve that.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. “Andres, I am so sorry for everything. I am a complete and utter idiot, and I know this. I took what we had and ruined it, and I am so sorry. I know it is no excuse, but when we were still together, I would worry that you were going to cheat on me. I was so scared…so very scared. You have no idea. I was so afraid of losing you, Andres, and I thought that it was inevitable that you would leave me. I know now that it had nothing to do with you or what actions you might take. It was all on me. I had so many insecurities, and my mind was convincing me that I wasn’t enough for you, that our end was unavoidable.

“It was hard, watching you on Twitter and Facebook while you were out having fun…with all these different girls. I should have had a little bit more confidence in us, but I didn’t. The long-distance part was really hard for me. I was afraid that I would break if you left me, and somewhere deep down, I guess I thought it was a better idea if I ended it first. It was stupid and wrong, and I’m sorry.

“I’m really sorry that I refused to talk to you afterward. I have so much guilt over this. I know you were probably upset and angry, and I didn’t talk to you about it. That was so selfish of me. I didn’t know what to say, and I was so confused. I didn’t feel strong enough come to you.

“Seeing you yesterday was the wake-up call that I needed. There has never been anyone in my life like you. I have never felt what I feel about you toward anyone else. I love you, Andres, and I think you love me, too. I guess I need to know where you stand. I need to know where we go from here.”

I stop talking and wait for him to respond. He sits there, motionless, staring into the depths of my being. In this moment, I bear the weight of his desolation, the months of anguish that he had to work through without a word from me.

Guilt surrounds me.

I am flooded with a tsunami of remorse for what I put him through. Pain is no stranger to me either. I’ve felt it every second of every day since the phone call ending it all, but at the very least, I knew the so-called reason. He was left with the weight of my selfish decision and no form of rationalization to aid him in making any sense of it all.

He sits quietly for what seems like a devastating eternity. With his elbows on his knees, he runs his fingers through his hair, his head facing the floor. He sighs deeply. Then, he lifts his head to face me with anger in his eyes. “We don’t go anywhere from here, Olivia. You go home, and I go on with my life.”

The anguish radiating off of him is so tangible that my skin is tingling with its unwelcome sensation. My whole body tightens, and I grip the sofa cushions. Those words are like a strong tide pulling me under an ocean where I am drowning, unable to breathe. I internally start panicking. I realize that if I cannot get through to him, I am going to drown in this overwhelming love I have for him. Only he can save me and pull me to the surface.

“Listen, Andres, I know you are mad, and you have every right to be. But can’t we start over? Please. I’m sorry! I will make it right. I will make it up to you! I am so sorry! I love you so much.” I am working to keep my voice even, but my panicky shriek is starting to make its way in.

“I’m sorry, Olivia, but it is over. You should probably go.” His expression is blank, cold.

Wait, what? No!
I am freaking out now. “Wait! Let’s talk about this! Is this about that girl you are with? Why are you choosing her? Why are you choosing her over me?” The time for calm conversation has passed, and I am officially yelling. I know my window is closing, and I might never get a chance with him again. I shout again, “Why are you choosing her over me?”

Andres’s attitude of tolerance has turned into one of rage, and he stands up, facing me. He yells, “Are you kidding me? I am not choosing her! I am choosing me! I am fucking choosing me!”

He turns from me and runs his fingers through his hair, pulling at it in frustration.

I stand and plead, “What does that even fucking mean, Andres? Is she so much better than me? Do you love her more than you love me? Are you over me? Because that is not what that kiss last night told me!”

Andres turns toward me, and I can see the pain in his eyes.

“She is just a fucking girl. What we have is not serious, and she knows that. She is leaving in a couple of weeks, and I will never see her again.” He takes a deep breath. Very slowly and clearly, he says, “She is not you. She never was you. She never could be you. No. Girl. Will. Ever. Be. You! You have ruined me for every girl to come. I will never be over you, Olivia! THERE IS NO GETTING OVER YOU! Ever.”

My breath hitches as the tears start to roll down my face. The anguish I see in Andres’s face and hear in his words is paralyzing.

He regards me sorrowfully, and in a much softer, sadder voice, he says, “You have ruined me, Liv, and all I have to look forward to for the rest of my life is a bunch of mindless, meaningless encounters.”

I long to touch him, to hold him. “I don’t understand what the problem is, Andres. I am here. I want you. Why can’t you choose me? Choose us? You know we are meant to be together. You know we can be happy. I will not make the same mistakes again. I can’t lose you. We are perfect together, Andres. We were made to be together.”

With near tangible sadness, he replies, “I thought so once, Olivia, but I was wrong. You had a choice, and you made it. You made the choice, Liv. YOU made it, and YOU did not choose us. You were it for me, the one. I always chose you. It was always you. But when things got a little difficult, you ran. You were not strong enough to fight for us, and I almost lost everything. I took a chance on us, and I gave you my heart. I gave you EVERYTHING, and you left me with nothing! You left me a completely hollow, empty man. These past two months, I have been barely holding on. I can’t give you my heart again. I can’t give it to you because you already have it. You have all of it, but you took it and destroyed it. Now, I have nothing left to give you. So, I am choosing me. I am deciding to go with the only option I can—self-preservation.”

He stares into my eyes, his own brimming with tears. In a low voice, he says, “I have to choose me.”

He appears so broken, and my heart shatters into a million pieces because I know that I did this to him. I step forward to hug him, and he steps back before I can reach him.

“I can’t do this, Liv. Please go.”

I know I have lost him. I don’t want to cause him more pain, but because everything is now so clear to me, I say, “You are the one for me. I was so stupid, and I ruined everything. I know sorry isn’t enough, but if you ever come back to me, I promise I will spend forever making it up to you. If you ever come back to me, I promise that I will never hurt you again. I know the love that we share is something special, and I don’t think everyone gets to experience such a love. Now that I know what it is like to love and be loved by someone like you, I can never settle for anything else. If you don’t ever take me back, then I will spend the rest of my life searching for a love like ours, but I know I will never find it. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry. I pray that someday you can forgive me and trust me again. I will hold on to your heart and keep it safe, and if you come back to me, I will cherish you with everything that I have and never break you again. If you can’t trust me again and don’t come back, then know that I will love you always, down to the depths of my soul…forever, baby.”

On the last word, my voice cracks, and I walk out of his house as fast as I can. I’m afraid that if I have to be in a room with him for one more second and not be allowed to touch him, then I will surely lose it. I will lose every molecule of strength I have left, and I will crumble into the depths of despair.

Three days pass, and I don’t hear from Andres. I know I shouldn’t because he made it clear that he doesn’t want to hear from me, but I text him multiple times a day. I write words of apology, love, and my all-consuming desire for him. He never responds, but I pray that he is at least reading my messages. It is a cruel fate that I am in Seville, so demographically close to Andres, but I feel further away from him than ever.

I honestly can’t believe he hasn’t contacted me yet. I know he still loves me. He made that clear with that kiss. I guess I feel that he would have come around by now. I was hoping that he would internalize everything I said to him, and he would return to me, but he hasn’t, and I am starting to fear that he won’t.

I have spent the past few days with Nadia, trying to plaster a smile on my face. I would rather lie in bed and wallow in my misery, but I can’t do that here. I have a couple of more days, and then I can go home, face Nolan…break his heart, and then fall apart for multiple reasons in the privacy of my own bedroom. I have chosen to run with this numb feeling and empty smile. I can keep it together a little longer.

Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and there is an all-night party at our favorite club. I am counting down the minutes until I can leave this country.

The club is teeming with life and exuberant energy as we make our way through the throng of moving bodies. I am pleasantly surprised to see Julio, Hugo, and Carlos sitting at a table when we arrive. Andres’s absence does not go unnoticed, and the nervous flutter that I had at the thought of seeing him turns into one of dejection. I am not surprised that he didn’t come, but God, how I would love to see him.

Hugo turns his attention from the hot brunette in a short skirt sitting on his lap to me. “Livi! Good to see you, hot stuff!” He takes hold of my hand and pulls me toward him, causing me to land on the leg that the brunette is not occupying.

Giggling, I put my arm around his neck, and I kiss his cheek. “Good to see you, too, Hugo.”

Julio and Carlos are sitting across the table, and I greet them with a grin.

Julio extends his arm and hands me a mojito.