The Love of a Latino (21 page)

Head cast down, Dahlia
continued. “I thought that the time and distance would make it easier to move
on, to forget him, but it seems I can’t control what my heart wants. It wants
my husband.”

Her sister lightly chuckled.
“Dahlia, there was never a doubt in my mind of that. I just needed you to
understand that contrary to what everyone thinks, marriages are not made in
heaven. You and Raphael are different people, with different personalities.
Opposites may attract, but they also clash.”

Dahlia raised her head to
absorb her sister’s words. “You know what the funny thing about that is? I know
all of this, but I have been so wrapped up in my feelings I haven’t given
thought to anything else.”

Natasha wiped her hands on
the apron that adorned her waist before she came around the counter to stand in
front of her sister. “What I hope you take away from this experience is that
there are always going to be challenges. Obstacles are going to come in
different forms, but if you guys really love each other as I know you do, you
have to work through them. Running is never the answer. I am not saying that
you are going to allow Raphael to make you his proverbial punching bag, but
don’t give up on the first instance.”

Insecurity in her eyes, she
posed the one question that had been troubling her for days. “What if he
doesn’t want me back?”

“Are you kidding me? Dahlia,
that man loves you more than I think you know. I think the only thing that is
keeping him from coming to you is that stupid Cavos pride.”

“But after the way I treated
him, I am not sure if he still loves me.”

“Has the lack of sex totally
numbed your brains, Woman?” Natasha playfully knocked Dahlia’s head with her
knuckles. As usual Dahlia blushed at the mention of the word sex.

“I swear you blush more than
a school girl with a crush on her Math teacher. Dahlia, you need to start
acting like a married woman and stop running. You want your man, go get him!”

“I do love him, and I do miss
him so much.”

“Yeah, I get that from the
picture of him you have tucked away under your pillow.” Natasha laughed again as
Dahlia’s cheeks turned pink. Natasha’s face suddenly turned serious as she
continued to stare at Dahlia.

“What’s the matter, Tash?”

“There is something I need to
show you.”

Before Dahlia could ask, her
sister disappeared in the direction of her bedroom after briefly throwing a
glance at Baby Trent hammering away at his toys on the floor. After losing her
baby, Dahlia thought it would have been hard being around Trent but it wasn’t
like that at all. He was a delightful baby and at eight months he was already
sitting on his own. Every time she looked at him, the chubby cheeked angel
pulled at her heart. She still missed her son terribly, but somehow her
interaction with Trent had brought her a sense of peace. There could be other
babies for her and Raphael, if he took her back.

Natasha returned this time
with a sheet of paper and handed it to Dahlia. Scanning the contents, she froze
when her eyes landed on the picture. Looking up at Natasha she asked, “Where
did you get this?”

“I printed it off the
internet.”

“Is it real?”

“Yes, it is.”

Dahlia’s heart throbbed
against her ribs, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the picture
of Raphael and the beautiful, blacked haired woman. The camera had caught them
exiting a restaurant, Raphael’s hand possessively around the woman’s waist. The
article below described ‘the couple’ as live in lovers.  Dahlia’s mind swirled
as she took in the information. Constance Martinez was a friend of the Cavos
family from Spain, but it seemed as though the relationship between the old
friends had blossomed into something more the last four months. Unshed tears
stung the back of her eyes. Why was this happening to her?
Now
that she
had finally decided to go back to her husband it seemed as though he had moved
on.
A lover!

With feet that suddenly felt
as if they were unable to support her, she found a seat. Trent, seeing his aunt
again, stretched out his arms to her. Needing some form of comfort, Dahlia
hugged the little boy close to her chest.

“You didn’t know, did you?”
Natasha asked from where she stood. Shaking her head in denial, she buried her
face in the baby’s soft nest of curls.

“I can’t believe your
mother-in-law didn’t tell you. I am sure she must know.”

Inhaling the baby’s scent,
Dahlia explained. “It was an unspoken agreement between us. I didn’t want to
speak about Rafe and she understood that. I cannot blame her.”

 “Understood, so when will
you be leaving?”

“Leaving? I can’t go there
now. He has a
girlfriend.”

“Dahlia, I swear to God! If
you don’t wise up I’m gonna smack you so hard Mama and Papa are going to feel
it.” Natasha threatened.

“What?
How could you expect me to go back now? I can’t! He
has a girlfriend.” Surely Natasha had to understand this was reason enough to
change her mind.

“Ugh! Dahlia, I don’t care if
he has a dozen girlfriends. He is
your
husband. Are you going to just
stand by and let some woman snap him up from under you? That man is in love
with you.”

“If he loved me, Natasha, he
wouldn’t have taken a lover. He would have waited for me.”

“Oh…really? And how long
exactly
was he supposed to wait, Dahlia?  One month? Ten months? One year—five? For
God’s sake, Dahlia, did you not hear a word I was saying earlier? Marriage is
not a bed of roses. Men and woman are made up differently. Very few men would
be able to hold out for a month, let alone ten months without sex. Men are
stupid creatures who sometimes think with another part of their anatomy instead
of their brain. They are quite capable of having sex with no strings attached.
Live in lover or not, I am sure that woman is not who his heart belongs to.”
Natasha ranted. “My point is, Rafe is your husband and you should go after him.
End of story.”

****

Other than the gulls that
swept down to skim their meal from the  water’s top, the couple that was
strolling behind her and the person standing at the shoreline a long distance
away, the beach was empty. This was the one place she could think clearly. Here,
so close to nature at its purest and finest is where she could always find
answers. So much had transpired today. There was not a doubt in her mind that
she had made a mistake ten months ago. She should have never walked out on her
marriage. Hurt or not her place should have been with her husband. She had done
the same thing she accused him of doing. Raphael had tried so hard to show her
just how much he loved her and what had she done? She had thrown all his
heartfelt efforts back into his face. How could he possibly still love or want
her?

The last ten months had been
good for her. She had finally come to terms with losing her baby. Partially,
she was to blame for his death. She should have been more cautious. Accepting
this truth had also made way for the healing process to begin. Now, the ache in
her heart was less whenever she thought about the loss she—they suffered.

Her mind wondered to the
picture from this afternoon causing prickles of jealousy to begin inside her. 
She had called this upon herself. How could she have taken his love for
granted?  Raphael was a man any woman would want and she had left the field wide
open for someone to home in when she decided to leave. Now her husband was publicly
bedding another woman. The question now was; was she willing to give up? Did
she sit back and wait for the divorce papers to come or did she get on a plane
to New York and demand that her husband get rid of his lover?

 God Mama, I wish you were
here,
she cried silently.

Looking closer at the person
standing at the shoreline, she deciphered that it was a man. He stood with his
hand in his pocket, the folds rolled up to avoid the water.  She observed as he
bent to pick up something and sent it slashing across the water’s the top. One,
two, three times it bounced before it was submerged below the water.  Her feet
took her closer to where he stood but as she drew nearer, the hair on her arms
and neck prickled. There was something so familiar about him, about the way he
stood, about the way he stroked his hand through his hair.

She stilled, her heart
accelerating. It couldn’t be him. Would fate be this cruel? Had she been
thinking about him so much, she was actually seeing things now?  A sudden gust
of wind brought with it that oh so familiar scent.
Paco Robanne,
Raphael’s cologne of choice. Oh God, it was him. Her husband was standing only
a few feet away from her, unaware as she admired him. What was he doing here?
Was he staying at the hotel again? So many things she wanted to say, to ask but
once again an image of that picture from this afternoon came to mind, this time
riding on the wave of hot burning fury.

Determined to get answers,
Dahlia stormed across the sand ready to confront her unsuspecting husband.

****

Well, so much for waiting. He
must have been high if he really thought that she was going to come back on her
own. Patience was not one of his virtues, so it was no surprise that he had
booked the private jet and found himself once again in Trinidad in the same
hotel, in the same room. Now all he needed to do was build up the courage to go
to her.
Mamá
was quite pleased with his decision as he knew she would
be. His mother loved Dahlia; there was no doubt about that.

Picking up a tiny pebbled he
launched it across the water and smiled as it tic-tac-toed before it sank. He
still had it. Glancing at his watch he noted the time. Constance and Genevieve
should almost be ready now. He should get up to his room and get changed. If it
was one thing Rafe knew, it was never to keep a woman waiting. In this case the
trouble would be doubled.

It was only when he turned to
head up to the hotel did he notice the small woman storming toward him.
Recognizable anger in her movements, Raphael was aware this was not the
confrontation he had in mind. Unprepared for this meeting he swallowed the lump
in his throat and smiled uncomfortably. Huge mistake! That smile was wiped
clean off his face when Dahlia drew back her tiny hand and punched him square
in his jaw. The force of the blow actually rocked him.

“What the
hell,
Dahlia?”
He huffed grabbing at his aching jaw. Her answer was another punch, this time
to his stomach. The blow was less effective than the first one, but
nevertheless, it still hurt.

“Dammit,
Dahlia, will you stop hitting me! What the hell is
wrong with you?” He shouted. “Oh, no you don’t!” He warned, grabbing the hand
she raised once again. Spinning her around, he confined both her hands in front
of her, dragging her up against the solid plains of his chest.

“Be still, Dahlia!” He
commanded near her ear but groaned in pain when the back of her head came up
and collided with his nose. The pain rushed through him, travelling up to his
head causing him to see blurry for a couple of seconds. But she wasn’t done!
Drawing up her foot she stomped down hard on his foot, crushing it into the sand.
Shouting out in pain he released her. Nursing his injured toe he glared at her
in frustration. Where the hell did these sides of her come from?

“You are a pig, Raphael Cavos
and I hate you! I don’t know what you are doing here but you better go back
where you came from!” She screamed at him. Just like that she was moving away
from him.

What the hell was that all
about? How did she know he was here? Raphael watched as his wife strutted down
the beach. That beautiful hair of hers flowing freely down her back, her
rounded bottom encased in those tight short pants, exposing the length of those
gorgeously long legs. Raphael felt that familiar jolt of arousal.
Dios,
it had been so long.

He was not going to walk away
this easy again. Ignoring the pain in various parts of his body he took off
after her. Scooping her up in a bear hug he lifted her off the ground and
plastered her against his body. She reacted instantly, throwing her head back
again but Rafe expected it this time. Dodging the blow he buried his head in
the crook of her neck and instantly felt that stab of arousal again. Dahlia
felt it too because she stopped struggling, her breathing shallow.

“Raphael, please put me
down!” She demanded through clench teeth, a hint of her earlier anger still
evident in her voice.

“I will, but you must promise
to calm down and tell me why you are so angry,
Amor.”
He whispered
against her skin. That memorable scent which he had missed so much tickled his
nostrils, slicing through his body, driving his arousal almost out of control.
He pressed it harder against her rounded bottom and sensed a minor victory when
she pushed back against him, moaning deeply. It was so easy to get caught up in
her, to forget the issues they were facing. To be this close to her after so
long was like giving a man a gallon of water after he had been in the desert
for days. He wanted to drink and never stop. But he couldn’t let sex confuse
this situation. He and Dahlia needed to talk.