I was soundly asleep when the sharp noise of my bedroom door startled me awake. I sat up swiftly, my heart pounding erratically. In the dimness of my room, I discerned the silhouette of a small woman, stumbling and wheezing, as though air was struggling to reach her lungs.
La Llorona, the legendary weeping ghost, had chosen the ideal moment to come in search of her children. It felt like the one horrendous thing I hadn’t yet experienced: ghosts bent on my destruction. Perfect.
I scrambled to turn on the light, half expecting her to try and drown me in the bathtub. After all, I doubt there’s any nearby river, and guiding me to some distant stream would surely sap her spectral strength.
When illuminated, La Llorona morphed into… my aunt. On reflection, I might’ve preferred the ghost.
Her tear-streaked face turned to my bed, collapsing onto it. She nestled into the pillow my head had peacefully rested on just moments before. It was now damp from her tears, but if this emotional wreck of a woman wasn’t perturbed, I wouldn’t fuss over it.
“What’s happened?” I ventured, moving closer with caution. I was wary of exacerbating her evident distress.
She began to cry out, fresh torrents of tears streaming down her face. “Dave’s an absolute bastard.”
I crawled back onto the bed, laying beside her, offering a comforting touch on her shoulder. “Yes, we both know that. But what did he do this time?”
Suddenly, she spun towards me, clutching my face in her hands. I began fearing she might suggest some morbid pact. Something I wasn’t keen on.
Though, perhaps we could discuss it.
“Listen to me, never get married. It starts off all roses, but then he’ll rob you of your youth, cheat on you, and make you the most miserable person in the universe. The worst part? You’ll never get intimate unless you cheat on him with some young punk who just wants to swipe your money. And when you realize he’s taken cash out of your purse, he’ll label you an ‘old bore’, leaving you humiliated just like I am now.” She took a massive breath after that long, uninterrupted vent, and I don’t even think she blinked.
I knew I shouldn’t argue with such a distressed woman, especially when she’s airing her grievances about Dave, which I kind of enjoy. But I wasn’t catching the connection between her claim and the primary premise that her husband is a jerk.
With her hands still clutching my face, I dared to ask, “So, you had a rough night with your lover? What’s Dave got to do with it?”
She released me, lowered her gaze, and began violently pounding the turquoise sheets she had gifted me. I immediately recalled all the times I had tried to control my anger, but clearly, she was far more unbridled than I ever was. “All of this is his fault! Dave hasn’t touched me in over five years, Celina! I hate him, but sex is sex, and he’s… well endowed.”
Wait, what? What?!
My eyes, wide as saucers, must’ve signaled to her that this conversation shouldn’t go down that route, especially if she didn’t want to induce my gag reflex. “Okay, that’s… that’s more than I needed to know.”
She nodded, her eyes closing and lips pursing in discomfort. “I’m sorry, I’m just overwhelmed right now.”
I couldn’t understand why she chose to share this with me, especially at five in the morning. Yet, I could fathom the crushing weight of unhappiness she felt, and the struggle to find anything that might fill that void, because dear aunt, I’m grappling with the same thing. “I get it, and I wish I could help you feel better. But if it means anything, you’re still young. You can get a divorce and rebuild your life with someone who values you, like, say, yourself.”
She smiled, tenderly caressing my cheek in a maternal way. “I wish I could see things the way you do. But it’s not that simple with him. Still, I’m grateful you didn’t kick me out when I came to you for solace. Thank you for listening.”
“You don’t need to thank me…”
“By the way!” she interrupted, as was her way. “There’s a black car outside with a very handsome young man in it. If he’s not here for you, can I go see what he wants?”
My heart stopped.
So did my body.
And possibly my breathing.
“Your reaction tells me I shouldn’t,” my aunt grinned, rising to leave. “Alright, he’s asleep. If I were you, I’d either call the police or jump his bones. Whichever comes first.”
“Stop!” I shouted, hurling the pillow at her. I was nervous enough without her painting risque scenes involving that guy in my head.
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I’m still tipsy.”
Once she closed the door, I leapt out of bed, swapping my pajama shorts for some old jeans lying on the floor. No time to find a fresh pair. I’m already wearing an old tank top, which is all I need as I rush down the stairs two steps at a time, desperately aiming for the door to bridge the gap between him and me.
I needed to talk to him, to find out if what he’d written was true, to see if we truly were on the same page and…
I didn’t have to make it to the sidewalk to realize that it wasn’t his car, but some random teenager’s who had decided to park there. Still, I swung the gate open and scanned the entire street, but there was no sign of him.
Disappointment was likely etched on my face, and a sharp pain in my stomach made me feel like I was about to throw up everything I’d eaten for dinner. It hurt to want something so badly and to know it could never be. It is what it is. We were never meant to be, deep down, I always knew that.
“Hi.”
I yelled out and jumped in surprise, accidentally striking the person next to me in the stomach. It took me two seconds to realize it was Donovan. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
He doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. I think I’d hit him right in the solar plexus. “What the hell are you doing out here? It’s five in the morning, Donovan.”
He held up a finger, signaling for a moment to catch his breath, and I waited.
Once he straightened up, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “That was a good hit.”
I hugged myself, praying he wouldn’t notice the goosebumps that sprang to life upon hearing the clear resonance of his beautiful voice. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, nervously scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe, looking bashful. “Just out for a walk.”
“Just walking?” I echoed, amused.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on mine for several moments. “Maybe I was hoping to see you.”
“How could you know I’d be out here at four in the morning?”
“Maybe I didn’t,” he scanned me up and down, a glint of desire in his eyes, and quickly looked away. “Maybe this is the tenth time I’ve walked by this street tonight.” He sighed. “If you want, you can call the police. Honestly, I’d be proud of you if you did.”