Welcome home!" Cecilio greeted as Rosa walked in, grinning from ear to ear.
"I told you to stop waiting up for me. I run a club, not a school," Rosa replied, reaching for the whiskey on the top shelf
but stopped herself, grabbing a bottle of water instead.
"Let's eat," Cecilio said, setting the table with care.
"You've been smiling a lot," Rosa said, studying his face.
"You think?" he replied, grin still wide.
"It's like your face is stuck that way," Rosa chuckled lightly.
The days went by like there was no trouble in the world. Cecilio had moved in with Rosa but refused to quit his job. He brought her flowers daily, and food whenever she stayed too late at the club. Rosa's drinking habit faded
she hadn't had a single drink since Cecilio moved in. For the first time in years, Cecilio could sleep peacefully.
"Finally! I get to have you to myself all day!" Cecilio whined playfully.
"Quit whining like a kid. You see me every day," Rosa said, smiling softly.
"I want to see you every minute," he said, making a puppy face.
"Ugh, stop that
it's giving me the ick," Rosa said, avoiding his gaze.
"Oh really?" He leaned closer, teasing. Rosa blushed; her ears turned as red as ripe tomatoes.
Cecilio laughed loudly. Ever since he discovered Rosa's weakness for his puppy face, he'd been teasing her mercilessly
it was hilarious to watch her get all shy.
"Don't laugh!" she said, half-smiling as she pushed at him, but he caught her in his arms and kissed the top of her head.
"I love you," he whispered like a prayer.
Twenty-five.
This was the twenty-fifth time he'd said it in a week, and she hadn't said it once.
I want to say it too, Rosa thought, but nothing comes out. The words feel like knives in my throat.
What am I so afraid of?
Her phone buzzed. Rosa pulled away and checked the screen. Cecilio noticed the change in her expression cold, distant, soulless.
"Rosa?" he called softly.
"I'll be right back," she said, grabbing her coat and running out the door without another word.
"You promised to stay with me today," he whispered to himself.
That was the last time he saw her. Four days passed. He went to the club, but the staff always said she wasn't there. Then it hit him
she was avoiding him.
Rosa began spending her nights at the club again. She started drinking. She barely ate.
Patience became poison. Idealism was imprisoned again. The world turned cold, dark, and lonely.
Cecilio spent his nights staring at the door from dusk till dawn, trapped in a loop of hope and dread, praying she'd walk through it and explain everything. Her silence made him feel useless
like he'd failed her again.
One night, searching for a sign she was still with him, he opened her wardrobe and found a small box. Inside
documents, and a shocking amount of medication.
He opened one of the papers, and his heart froze.
Medical Report.
The words barely escaped his lips as he staggered in disbelief.
Without thinking, Cecilio ran out, clutching the report like his life depended on it.
his voice trembled. "Are you alright? What happened? Does your abdomen hurt?"
Rosa smiled faintly. "No, no, I'm fine. I hit myself at the club, but the doctor said it's nothing. The pain will go away."
"Maybe we should go again. How did you even hit yourself? Did someone...."
"I'm fine, Lio," Rosa interrupted, cupping his face gently. "Calm down. I'm alright."
Cecilio stared into her eyes, and for a moment, he felt that he believed her and that everything was alright.
But now, as he drove through the empty streets, thoughts of that day clawed at him.
I should have noticed. What was I thinking?
She was dizzy, tired... her eyes looked yellow. It was all there.
She lied to my face
and I believed her.
"I hate you, Rosa!" Cecilio screamed, pounding the steering wheel. "I'm so stupid!"
The words came out as a cry, swallowed by the silence of the night.