“Firstly, have I ever told you that you’recrazy, Garcia?” he asks, and his chuckle is affectionate, “You just got his number, likeyesterday,and you’re already worrying about things that might not even happen. And I mean this in the nicest way.”
I lower my hands, prying them from his grasp. My wrists feel warm from where he held them.
“Secondly, no one in any relationship is certain the other will stay. It’s all about trust, about communicating together, about going on this journey together. I guess that’s where I lacked a bit with Christine. We didn’t communicate as well as we wanted and…” he sighs, waving his hand, as if brushing the topic away, “That doesn’t matter. The point is, you have to trust in yourself, in your relationship and in him. There will never be a set answer to if he’ll stay, but everyday, you both work hard to show the other why staying is worth it.”
I let the words settle over me. He’s wise, wiser than he thinks. Than I had originally thought.
“Did you just call me crazy?” I murmur, a grin dancing on my lips.
“Thecraziest,” he says, softly, “But who could ever run away from you?”
His words fold over my heart, like an eclipse. I forget how to breathe, for just a moment.
Until I remember that this is Marlon Salvador, and he’s the last man on this Earth who should be making my heart race this way.
I clear my throat. I need to say something, or this silence will grow into an awkward one very soon.
“So when are you seeing Christine next?” I ask, reminding us both why we’re sitting here on my couch in the first place.
Marlon seems shocked at my sudden manoeuvre, but smiles nevertheless.
“This Saturday, for lunch actually,” he says, and the plummet in my stomach is so visceral I have to swallow it down.
“Well, you know all about swoony one-liners now from this movie alone,” I joke, trying to alleviate the weight on my chest.
“I just have to tell her that I most ardently like her?” Marlon chuckles, a little in disbelief.
“Something like that.”
Twenty
Ihave my own plans on Saturday.
Even if Marlon had asked if he wanted to hang out, I wouldn’t have even accepted. So,no, it doesn’t matter to me that he’s out with Christine right now. It’s good, really, that he is. Natural.
The sooner they’re back together again, and the sooner I’m with Rafayel, the sooner he and I can put an end to this ruse, and just benormalfriends.
I repeat that to myself like a mantra. Today, I’m happy to be spending time with my family. A part of me is relieved by it.
We’d planned to visit a flea market that happens on the first Saturday of every month.
“What’s Marlon doing today?” Dad asks as we all pull ourselves into the car.
“Studying,” I answer, simply.
The image of Marlon and Christine, laughing together, at a fancy restaurant somewhere, crosses my mind.
Of them falling for each other again. My heart protests at the image, and I push it away.
Instead, I check my phone to see whether Rafayel has responded to my text from this morning, the one I sent before my family left the house. I’d asked him what he was up to today, whether he had any plans.
Though, when I open our messages, only mine stares back at me. No reply yet. I pocket my phone back into my tote bag, ignoring my disappointment.
Over the week we’ve been texting, I’ve noticed a pattern in his slow replies, unlike the first night, when we stayed up all night talking.
Relax. He’s busy. He has a life.
And mine shouldnotrevolve around a text reply.
