Chương 11
“You’re my family too.”
“Too.”
Andrés stopped.
Sofía looked down at the tea she had not touched.
The word sat between them.
Not first.
Not chosen.
Not protected.
Too.
“I was going to tell you Saturday,” she said.
His face changed.
“About the baby?”
“Yes.”
Andrés’s eyes filled instantly.
Sofía hated that she still reacted to his pain.
“What were you going to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
She looked toward the window.
“I bought socks.”
He made a small sound.
She continued before he could interrupt.
“Yellow ones.”
Andrés covered his mouth.
For the first time since he arrived, his composure broke.
He turned his face away.
Sofía watched him cry.
Part of her wanted to reach across the table.
Part of her resented him for making grief look shared after everything that had happened.
He wiped his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I should have protected you.”
“Yes.”
“I should’ve followed you.”
“Yes.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“I am sorry.”
This time she believed him.
That made nothing easier.
“Will you tell the police exactly what you just told me?”
His eyes dropped.
The question changed the room again.
Sofía waited.
Andrés rubbed at a coffee stain with one finger.
“I can clarify.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Yes.”
She held still.
“Yes, you will?”
He nodded.
“I’ll tell them Dad told Iván to stop calling.”
“And the kick?”
Andrés swallowed.
“I’ll say I saw him kick you.”
Sofía exhaled slowly.
A part of her had wanted this so badly that getting it felt suspicious.
“Why now?”
He looked miserable.
“Because I keep hearing myself talk and I hate what I sound like.”
That was the first answer he had given that did not feel borrowed from fear.
Sofía folded her hands in her lap.
“And your mother’s complaint?”
“I told her to withdraw it.”
“You can’t make her.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell her she lied?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“She screamed at me for ten minutes.”
Sofía almost smiled.
“That sounds more believable.”
Andrés gave a weak laugh.
It died quickly.
“I don’t know what happens to us.”
Sofía looked at him.
“Neither do I.”
“Do you want a divorce?”
The question landed quietly.
She had imagined herself answering it with certainty.
Instead, she felt only exhaustion.
“I want distance.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can we go to counseling?”
“Maybe.”
Hope flickered across his face.
She stopped it before it grew.
“Maybe does not mean I’m coming home.”
“I know.”
“And counseling doesn’t erase this.”
“I know.”
She studied him.
“Stop saying that unless you actually know.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
They sat without speaking.
The waiter passed and asked whether they wanted anything else.
Neither did.
Andrés reached for the bill.
Sofía put her hand on it first.
He looked at her.
“I can pay for tea.”
“I wasn’t saying you couldn’t.”
“I know.”
The phrase escaped her before she could stop it.
For a second they both nearly smiled.
That was worse than fighting.
There were still familiar pieces between them.
Still habits.
Still humor.
Still things that did not understand they were supposed to be broken.
Outside, Andrés walked with her to the SUV but stopped several feet away from it.
He looked at the car.
“Iván really did start all this over something stupid.”
Sofía unlocked the passenger door for herself.
“No.”
Andrés looked at her.
She thought of Daniela’s sentence.
The car had only made something visible.
“He started an argument over something stupid.”
She opened the door.
“What happened after that wasn’t about the car.”
Andrés lowered his eyes.
Sofía climbed in.
Elena was waiting behind the wheel exactly as promised, staring straight ahead with both hands positioned at ten and two.
Andrés noticed her.
Elena noticed him.
Neither waved.
Sofía closed the door.
As they pulled away, she looked back once.
Andrés remained on the sidewalk.
He did not follow.
This time, at least, she had been the one who asked him not to.
Elena waited until they had driven three blocks before speaking.
“You look worse.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean emotionally.”
“That is somehow less flattering.”
Elena kept her eyes on the road.
“Did he tell the truth?”
“Some of it.”
“Which part did he keep for later?”
Sofía looked out the window.
“He says he’ll correct his statement.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“You believe him?”
“I believe he meant it when he said it.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
They stopped at a red light beside a bus crowded with schoolchildren.
One boy pressed his forehead against the glass and made faces at passing cars.
Elena noticed him and waved.
The boy immediately looked horrified and disappeared from the window.
Sofía laughed despite herself.
“Smooth.”
“I’m excellent with children.”
“Clearly.”
The light changed.
For a few seconds, Sofía allowed the ordinary traffic to fill her head.
Motorcycles.
A produce truck.
A woman balancing a cake box on her lap in the back seat of a taxi.
Then Elena asked, “Did he ask you to drop the complaint?”
“No.”
“That’s something.”
“He asked if I wanted a divorce.”
Elena did not react right away.
“What did you say?”
“That I want distance.”
“Also something.”
Sofía rubbed her thumb over the edge of the Saint Jude medal in her pocket.
“I don’t know whether I said it because I mean it or because saying divorce out loud felt too permanent.”
“You do not have to decide your whole life this week.”
“I know.”
Elena glanced at her.
“You’re allowed to say that one.”
Sofía leaned her head back against the seat.
At Maribel’s apartment, Benito was asleep in the exact center of Sofía’s pillow.
Maribel refused to move him.
“He was here first.”
“It’s my pillow.”
“He has established possession.”
Sofía lifted the cat with both hands and deposited him at the foot of the bed.
Benito stared at her with deep personal offense.
May you like
“See?” Maribel said.
“You’ve radicalized him.”
