Authors: Eva Márquez
“Are you serious?” he demanded with a frown etched onto his face. “You’re just going to turn your back on me, just like that? After all I’ve sacrificed for you? Isabel, please! Just take some time to think about it before you make a rash decision. No one can love you more than I do; I don’t even know if that’s humanly possible. Please, Isabel, I know you love me!”
Tom’s desperation was increasing, and I knew I had to get him out of my car before something happened. My parents were expecting me home, and I was afraid that Tom, who was clearly not listening to reason, might do something foolish.
“Okay look, I need to get home,” I told him quietly. “Let’s just meet this weekend, okay? After we’ve both had some time to think. That way we can have more time to talk, in the comfort of your truck, up in the mountains. My parents expected me home more than half an hour ago, and I don’t want them to be suspicious. Please?”
Tom reached over and pulled my face close to his, so that our foreheads met. “You’re my sweetheart, Isabel. You mean everything to me. You know that, don’t you?”
I managed a forced smile and a reply. “Yeah, I do.”
I gently nudged him from my car, and drove away as quickly as I could, frustrated tears rolling down my cheeks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
With or Without You
T
he weekend came and went without the romantic rendezvous I had promised Tom. I stayed home from school for the last two days of the week to avoid him. He called on Thursday, on Friday (twice), and on Saturday morning (four times). I asked my mom to tell any guy that called that I was not home.
“Why are you so rude to boys?” my mother wanted to know. “One day, you’re going to really like a boy and he’s not going to take your calls. Let’s see how you feel then.”
I rolled my eyes. As much as my mother fought with me about “being rude to boys,” she always played the game; she answered phones and told them I wasn’t around. Maybe in the back of her mind she thought that she was protecting me, and I was allowing her to.
I decided to stay home for the weekend as well; I didn’t know what Tom might try when he realized I was blowing him off. No matter how hurt, I did not expect Tom to make an unwise decision and show up at my front door. He would be risking way too much, so I felt safe at home.
On Sunday evening, my mom handed me a sealed envelope and said, “Here Isabel, I forgot to give this to you, it came in the mail yesterday morning.” The envelope was crisp and white with neat handwriting on the front.
“Thanks, mami,” I said taking the envelope from her with caution. My mom walked out of my room just as swiftly as she had walked in, showing no curiosity about the envelope that had just arrived. I gently peeled it open searching for signs of tampering at the seal, but it was intact. Feeling assured that I was the first one to be reading the contents; I unfolded the letter and immediately recognized Tom’s handwriting.
July 14, 1995
Dear Isabel
,
Isabel, I realize you’ve decided to ignore me again. I don’t think I have to tell you how much this breaks my heart. But then again, you’re still young and behaving as any teenage girl might, so how can I be upset with you? This is your first adult relationship. As you will find out in life, adults don’t blow each other off, they don’t ignore each other, and they don’t trash relationships on a whim. I’m disappointed and hurt. Why now? Why like this? You graduate in one week, Isabel! After that, I may never see you again. You love me, don’t you? If you love me still, why don’t you at least respect me enough to end things in person? To allow me to hold you, to kiss you one last time
.
I thought that our love could keep us together under difficult circumstances, just as it did for the last three years. Isn’t that what you told me, just the other night? Or do you not love me anymore? Is there someone else?
I hope you’ll make the right decision and respect my love for you. Don’t forget, I’ve done nothing but love you and all I want is a final goodbye, if this is how it has to be. If you want to end this then at least give me one last time to hold you … that’s all I ask
.
I wanted to tell you that I have made a decision about my wife, and my marriage, but I’d rather tell you in person. Please, please meet with me, one last time
.
I hope to hear from you
.
Love
,
Tom
P.S. Just as before, please make sure to destroy this letter after you’ve read it
.
***
I went back to school on Monday, to try to enjoy my last week of high school. Tom made every excuse to get near me, but Liz acted as my bodyguard, shielding me from Tom at every turn. She even walked with me to our shared locker between periods to make sure that Tom could not approach me in private. After school, she rode home with me. We went to her house every day, rather than mine, and stayed there until dark. Tom almost inevitably followed, but by the time I drove home at 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening, he’d left to go home to his family. I took this as a sign that he’d made his decision, and renewed my dedication to ignore him. I didn’t plan to give him the “one last time” he’d asked for. As far as I was concerned, it was already over.
I dreaded the night of my high school graduation as it represented an end to many good years of exploration and discovery, but found the atmosphere pleasantly festive. I sat on the grassy lawn wearing a white honor-roll robe, surrounded by good friends. We all managed to giggle as jokes spread from ear to ear and pass notes during the long and boring speeches. I looked up at one point from the note that Liz had written me, and scanned the row of teachers, then the crowd. Tom was somewhere in the crowd, I knew. Maybe he had brought his wife and kids with him to the graduation. I thought about the pain I had inflicted on him and couldn’t help but wonder whether I had been too callous in ending things. No matter how many times I thought about it, though, I couldn’t see any other way to handle it. And I knew for a fact that if I was going to end it, the only way to do so was to leave without saying goodbye. It had worked before, and I was convinced it would work again.
Liz glanced over at me, saw me staring at the crowd, and elbowed me in the ribs. “Stop thinking about him,” she lectured. “You did what had to be done. Now move on. Grow up. Live your life.”
I smiled and nodded, knowing that she was right. I had tried to be honest; I had even tried to invoke his love for me as a reason why he should let me go. I had tried asking him to leave his wife for me, to get me to stay. Nothing had worked. He hadn’t wanted to listen to reason, and it was his own fault that I had to walk away from him, from our relationship. We shared equal guilt for the relationship itself, but at least I could take responsibility for the break-up.
After the ceremony concluded, our families and friends flooded the field. The air smelled of freshly cut flowers and popcorn, and the graduates scattered, looking for their families. From afar, it must have looked like a swarm of colorful ants heading for fallen cookie crumbs. I dragged Liz with me to find my parents, telling her that we’d find hers afterwards. We’d gone only 10 feet when I felt eyes on me. I turned, glancing through the crowd to find Tom standing behind the row of chairs in front of us, staring at me. He was standing with several other teachers. They were talking, but he had moved aside to stare at me as I passed, his eyes burning with pain and questions.
Time froze. The rush of people around me faded into the periphery. For the next fifteen seconds, only Tom and I existed. Then his wife walked up behind him and put her hand on his arm. As much as it pained me to cut him out of my life, I knew at that moment that if I wanted to live a normal life, I had to walk away.
Breaking the stare, I looked down to study the grass around my feet. I swallowed deeply and felt Liz’s hand on my arm, giving me comfort and support. Then I looked back up at Tom.
It’s over
, I told him with my eyes.
I turned away, and before I knew it, my legs were striding confidently away from Tom, away from the relationship we once shared.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Please, Please Tell Me Why?
I
started packing my things the next day. I was due to leave in August, but wanted to get a head start on the painful task of gathering my life and shipping it somewhere else. It also gave me something to do. Although it had been my decision to end things with Tom, despair and sadness filled my heart, along with a heavy dose of guilt. I had grown especially attached to this man, who had played the part of a fairytale prince in my life for three years, and I wasn’t positive that I had done the right thing. I questioned my decision, my actions, and even my mind for an entire night. When I woke up, I decided that the only way to stop thinking about it was to keep busy.
The weeks that followed graduation day were the most difficult of my life. Mornings were especially grueling. My mind wandered every night, and my dreams reconnected me with Tom, as if the relationship had never ended. I saw his truck in town during the day, but always turned and walked away. The reality of the situation was that Tom was no longer in my life. He had made his decision and stayed with his wife. In my heart, I knew there was no going back. And Tom never called again
***
I dove headfirst into my studies at college to distract myself from Tom. I ignored the parties, people, and interested guys, and focused only on being the best in my classes. Many of the people around me tried to make friends and ask me out, but I simply wasn’t interested. My heart had been broken – badly – and I wasn’t going to give it away again. At least not right now. I didn’t believe that I could fall for anyone as deeply as I had fallen for Tom, and ending that relationship had torn my heart to pieces. My books and grades were steady and dependable, and they never hurt me the way that other people could.
At the end of my first year in college, I decided to take a trip home before heading to Washington D.C. for a prestigious summer internship. I missed my parents and brother, and wanted to see my old friends again. My parents had moved out of Hillside to a more upscale community in the next valley, and now owned a larger house and more land. I’d heard about the new house, but was surprised when I arrived; it was larger than any other house on the block, and gave my mother plenty of room to run her successful business.
“We would have killed for a house this big when we were young!” I joked with Tony, who had come home to see me. Tony had married Amy several months earlier, though I hadn’t come for the wedding, and lived in Hillside in my parents’ old rental house. They saw each other often, I knew, and Tony had become especially close to my father.
He laughed, nodding, and pulled me out the door. “You have to see the pool in the back! It would have come in handy when you were on the swim team.”
I followed him outside, agreeing, and strode toward the large, decorative pool deck. The site of the water brought a rush of memory with it, and I gasped. The East Coast didn’t have the weather for year-round swimming, and I hadn’t been around a pool since high school. The smell of the chlorine, and sight of the bright, sparkling water, took me immediately back to the Royal Oaks pool, and a range of emotions that I’d spent a year avoiding. I was relieved when my mom called to me from the house.
“Isabel! You have a phone call,” she called, holding the phone before her.
I walked into the house and approached my mom, who extended the receiver out to me. “Who on earth knows I’m home?”
My mom shrugged. “It’s Vicky.”
I grinned, surprised, and took the phone. “Vicky? Seriously?”
The swim champion from my high school team, and dear friend, laughed on the other end of the line. “Hey, Isabel, I heard you were home! My sister ran into your parents last weekend at the mall and they said you were going to be here. Let’s hang out before you leave for D.C.! It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. I’m the new head coach for the swim team at Royal Oaks, and I’ve got practice tomorrow morning. Remember Mrs. Robbins, the assistant coach while we were on the swim team, who hated us so much? She’s now
my
assistant. Isn’t that funny? Anyway, I’ve got practice from ten to noon, so why don’t you just come by the school? I’m sure you’ll recognize some of the swimmers, because some of them were freshmen and sophomores when we were seniors on the team. We can hang out during practice.”
I smiled into the phone and listened to Vicky chatter on. I had forgotten that she carried on entire conversations by herself, and expected everyone to agree to whatever she set up. It would be good to see her. The thought of being back on that campus, though, made my stomach turn. The Royal Oaks campus had been my romantic playground and the backdrop of so much drama and despair. Every inch of that campus reminded me of Tom; in fact, it was as though I had no other memories of that place. I gulped at the thought, and asked aloud if there were any other place we could meet. Vicky told me absolutely not, though, and insisted on me coming to our old stomping grounds at the pool.
I sighed at her response. I wasn’t prepared to see Tom face to face; in fact, for the sake of my healing heart, I hoped never to see him again. I’d spent the last year trying to forget him, and trying to numb the pain in my heart. If I’d been a different person, perhaps I would have come home sooner, to try to mend things with him. But I’d made my decision, and I didn’t think I would have another chance to renew the relationship. Maybe this would be my opportunity to let go of what happened, I thought, and to prove to myself that I had finally moved on. I was a grown woman now, and I needed to face the emotions that burdened me. How many times had my friends told me that I had to face things before I could move on and get over them?