The Love of a Latino (19 page)

“Amor…”
He spoke softly.

She couldn’t do this. Talking
to him was only making it harder. She had to end this. “Raphael I have to go,”
she said before cutting the call. He was chipping away at her defenses and she
couldn’t allow it. She needed to go.

****

So much for his plan! That
had gone straight into the bin after the second week. Raphael thought he was
stubborn but one thing he had learnt throughout this whole ordeal was that
Trinidadian women were as stubborn as mules. Dahlia refused to budge. Almost
five weeks and she was still angry with him. Nothing seemed to be working. He
should have known better. His wife was not the type to swoon over presents and
flowers. She hated jewelry, so buying her that would have only been a waste of
time.

Then of course he tried the
conversation thing. His father advised him that women loved to talk, so he
called Dahlia every night attempting to keep a whole, meaningful conversation
with—so much good that did. That plan had also gone south. Her responses were
always brief and distant and in the end he had given up on that idea.

Finally, he had swallowed his
pride and he had begged. Pleaded that she forgives him and allow him to come
home. When she had broken down and began to cry he wanted nothing more than to
kick himself. More pain was something he wanted to spare her at all cost. She
had every right to say that he did not care about her tears weeks ago because
he had been acting like a real bastard and not paid any attention to her or her
feelings.

Now, with only two days left
before she was gone, Raphael was on edge. His mother had none to gently inform
him that Dahlia’s bags were already packed and her ticket was booked; one way. In
one last desperate attempted he had asked her out to dinner. He has almost
fallen off his seat when she said yes. A million questions zinged through his
head when he hung up. Did she change her mind? Is that why she said yes? Was
she going to stay?

However, tonight he was as
nervous as he was on his first day of school. Walking around the balcony of his
hotel room, he double checked everything. Tonight had to be perfect. If Dahlia
knew how much he had spent putting together this dinner on short notice, she
would have a fit. Raphael smiled at the thought. A woman who didn’t care about
money! His wife was truly spectacular.

Outside the city was quiet,
except for the few cars zipping by down below. Above, the moon lent its light
to the dark night, the stars scattered across the expanse of the sky. Somewhere
in the distant the quiet “hoot” of an owl could be heard. Dahlia loved owls.
They scared the crap out of Rafe, but he would not admit that in a million
years. Closing his eyes, he raised his head to the heavens.
Por favor Dios,
do not let me lose her, he whispered into the open air. Everything else had
failed, so he resorted to faith. Maybe God could help him.

When the chimes of the doorbell
filtered through, to the balcony, he froze. It was her. She was finally here! Casting
one last glance over the beautifully decorated table and its surrounding he
hurried to the door. Pausing at the entrance, he inhaled a few deeps breaths in
an attempt to steady his nerves and heart. When he was sure his pulse was
moving at normal speed and the saliva was actively flowing in his dry mouth, he
opened the door and immediately felt as if he had been sucker punched.

A memory of the night they
made love for the first time flooded through his mind. Much like this, she
stood outside his hotel room door as beautiful as ever. He prayed that this
night would end similar to that one. Anything else would be heartbreaking. He
could not lose his wife.

“Amor
…please, come in.” He whispered in a steady breath
while he opened the door for her. As she filtered past him, her scent burned
through his nostrils, scorching his senses. Closing his eyes, he savored it.
Dahlia, his heart whispered. How could he possibly survive without her?

Dahlia was her own special
woman. She didn’t follow trends. Tonight she wore a simple green spaghetti
strap dress. The material that ended by her knee clung to her luscious body. There
was nothing sexual about the way she was dressed, but Raphael knew better than
any man the pleasures that were hidden behind that piece of cloth, pleasures
that he had denied himself because of his stupid pride.  Her mane of curls was
piled on top of her head exposing the length of her neck. Her face was bare of make-up
except for the usual hint of cherry gloss she always used to moisten those
seductive lips. She looked every bit the silent seductress she was. Sex should
be the last thing on his mind but he was only human.

“Come!” He commanded,
ushering her out to the balcony.

Stopping short of the table
she looked at him finally. In those beautiful brown eyes Raphael saw what he
didn’t want to see. Rejection!

The gut wrenching words
pounded at his brain. “This was a mistake. I should not have come here.”

“Please, do not say that! Let
us have dinner and we can talk.” He tried to intervene, not wanting to have to
listen to words she was uttering.

“No—no. There is nothing to
talk about.” Wringing her hands nervously she cautiously presented her next
words. “Raphael, I came here to say goodbye.”

“No! I will not accept that!”
He huffed, pride making his voice harsher than he intended. “This is not the
end of us, Dahlia. It cannot be the end,” his determined words floated through
the open air.

“Please, Raphael; do not make
this harder than it already is.” Dahlia pleaded, her troubled eyes beseeching
him.

“What do you expect me to do,
Dahlia? Just stand by and let you walk out of my life? I cannot allow you to do
that. You are my wife.”

“I expect you to realize that
this marriage was a mistake. You were not ready…we were not ready for this. We
got caught up in our emotions and mistook lust for love.”

“Do not
tell me what I feel, Dahlia. I am a man of thirty-one
years. I know what lust is. What I feel for you is no lust. I am in love with
you. Have been since the first day you fainted at my feet. So please, do not
try to convince me otherwise.” He lashed out in anger. Her words were shredding
his heart to pieces. He just wanted her to stop.

“Fine, well let me say it
this way then.
I do not love you, Raphael.
I see that now.”

Her words felt like a stake
penetrating his heart. That couldn’t be true. “Do not lie to me, Dahlia. You
love me as much as I love you. It was there from the moment our eyes met on
that beach. You may be angry at me now but do not lie. You are not a person
that finds pleasure in hurting others. Please, do not start now.” Where are you
now, God? Can you not see I am losing her? Why will you not help me?

She didn’t retaliate. At
least not in the way he expected. When her sorrowful eyes collided with his the
anger that was beginning to mount inside quickly ebbed away.

“Then if you love me as you
say you do, Raphael, let me go.” Those were the words that crumbled his entire
resistance.
Dios,
this was it. He could see it in the way she stood, in
the reflection of her eyes. He had lost her. She was right. If he loved her he
would let her go. He couldn’t do this to her anymore. To stand by and see this
constant sadness in her was too much.

In a tortured voice he asked.
“Is this what you really wish,
Amor,
to go away from me?” 

Nodding at him, she
whispered, “Yes.”

Amidst the pain of his heart
shattering Raphael answered, “Then, it shall be.”

****

Today he was bidding farewell
to his wife. He watched in silent torment as she completed the ritual of
checking in her flight. The male attendant behind the counter saying something
to her, a ridiculous grin plastered across his freckled face. Raphael wanted to
break every bone in his body. She may not want him anymore but that did not
change the fact that she was his wife, that he loved her.

Accepting that this was their
end was so hard. Rafe had honestly believed they would last forever.  Dahlia
was going back home and she would be taking his heart with her. He was a man
with great wealth and power. He could force her to stay. So many times since
that failed dinner attempt he had thought about it. But he couldn’t do that to
her. He had already caused her too much anguish.

Once
he had proclaimed proudly that he would deny her
nothing and to that he would stick. If this is what it took to make her happy
then he would give it to her, even if it was at his expense. She came toward
him, sadness clouding her beautiful features, weighing down his heart. What he
would do, what he would give to see her smile again.  Fearful of what he might
do, he kept his hands buried in the pocket of his jeans. He wanted to beg her
to stay but suppressed the urge to do so.

Looking up at him, she smiled
that smile. The one that made his legs turn to jelly, the smile that caused his
heart to skip a beat. The smile that made him love her more. Tears burned at
the back of his eyes when her tiny palm brushed across his unshaven jaw. When
she made to pull away, his hands grabbed hers and pressed it against his mouth.
Kissing the soft palm, he swallowed the lump in his throat, one wayward tear
escaping his moist eyes.

“Please, do not go,
Amor
…please.”
He begged. Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip, but her tears still
flowed.

“I am sorry,
Amor.
I
am sorry for everything.
Por favor,
do not leave me.” He was aware how
he must look, standing here, begging his wife not to leave him but it did not
matter. He was a desperate man.

“I can’t stay, Raphael. I
have to go. This is best for us.” Dahlia’s tearful words ripped at his heart.

“How long will you be gone?
Will you come back? Please,
Amor,
tell me you will come back to me. I
will wait; it does not matter how long. I will wait for you.”

Shaking her head again, she sniffed,
“I don’t know. I don’t know if we can get past this.”

In one fluent movement he
gathered her up against his huge body, burying his face in her hair. Into the
curly mass he whispered, “I love you, Dahlia.”

“I know, Raphael.”

They stood like that for a while;
oblivious to the people that were bypassing and glancing at them. They didn’t
notice the nearby pregnant woman that shed a tear at the pain they emanated,
nor the little girl who looked at them strangely.

When Rafe finally released
her it was with the heaviest of heart. He watched as she picked up her bags and
crawled toward the boarding entrance. Up until the moment she disappeared from
his view, his heart silently cried out for her to turn around and come back to
him. She didn’t hear his silent pleas. Even though he was dying inside, Rafe
was happy she didn’t turn around because if she did she would only see the
broken man she was leaving behind.

****

Raphael’s heart hammered
against his ribs, his feet pounded the sand as he pushed his body beyond the
normal limit. The blood sizzled in his head obscuring his hearing. Long,
powerful legs forced his sweat drenched body down the length of the beach.
Reaching the end of the course he circled the large rock which served as a
marker and headed back in the direction he came from. This was the only thing
that worked.  If he forced his body to a point of exhaustion he would not spend
another sleepless night. He would not spend another night staring at the
picture on the nightstand until that feeling of hopelessness had him reliving
the past.

He wasn’t sure how long he
had been running but he knew it must be a very long time because he could feel the
sharp piercing pains begin on his side. His throat ached from the fact that
since he started he hadn’t drunk any water. But this is what he needed.

Once again, the phone in his
running pants pocket went off but he continued to ignore it. Talking to people
was the last thing on his agenda now. The questions were always the same.

‘How is that lovely wife
of yours, Raphael?’ 

‘When will that beautiful
wife of yours be coming back?’

‘Is she as lovely as
ever?’

Why couldn’t people just
understand that he didn’t want to speak about Dahlia? She was no longer a part
of his life and he was moving on.
If you want them to understand that,
Raphael it needs to be true and it isn’t.
A wicked voice inside his head
whispered. Shaking his head roughly, he hoped to dispense of the unwanted
thought but failed miserably. Dahlia was a vital part of him now as she was
when she left nine months ago. He missed her desperately.

Everyone saw what he wanted
them to see; a man that was coping quite well with an estranged marriage—a temporary
one at that. They saw a man that was quite contented with life, a man who was
not the least affected by his wife’s absence from his life. No one knew the
turmoil he suffered inside. No one knew the way his heart broke repetitively.
No one knew how many sleepless nights he had or how many afternoons he spent
like this one, trying to drive his body into submission.  The reality of it
was, he was dying inside and no one knew it but him. So wrapped up in his own
misery he wasn’t aware of the man that approached him until he spoke.