«Miami, Florida»
The radiant sun awakening was the discordant note of a day that was actually dark. Lauren lay in her office on this new workday, but her tasks were lagging behind due to the presence of her friend in the enclosure. She was well aware of Lauren's affliction, and how could she not be? She was her lifelong friend. She was there, persistent, because she wanted to help Lauren in some way, but it was a complex task. Lauren was not exactly a woman who liked to be helped, she had always been so independent since she lost her mother, even to an extreme degree, as she could be dying and would not accept anyone's help.
"No, Ally, you know I don't believe in those things."
"Please, Lauren. You have nothing to lose by going, faith is a light in the darkness, a comfort when everything has already crumbled. Just come with me, the peace that extends in that place will help you."
"You sound like a preacher now. I see they've brainwashed you already."
"It's called going down the path of righteousness, although I doubt that a wayward soul like you is ready to recognize it."
"What's next?" she mocked. "Every year you obsess over something different and then you drop it; last year you were all about love and peace with the Hippie thing. This year it's religion. What's next?"
"You have a very bad concept of me, my friend," she accused with a narrowed gaze. "But you're just dodging the issue."
The green-eyed woman sighed in frustration.
"I'll think about it for another occasion, okay? I have things to attend to today."
"Just that? What do you have to think about?"
"I have things to do right now, as I explained to you," she replied, looking back at her laptop.
"Like what?"
"For example, I have a meeting with the jewelry designer."
Her friend raised her eyebrows in noticeable surprise, stunned by the revelation.
"Why does that surprise you, Ally?" she continued. "You knew I would propose to her at some point, and now is the time."
"Yes, you had it in mind long before the doctor gave you the bad news. I thought you would want to wait until you were better to get married."
"I know, it would be logical, but... If I don't have much time left, I would like to fulfill that dream despite everything, and if I died, I don't want Ash to be left alone and instead inherit what I have." "That witch would squander your money on eccentricities in less than a year." "Ally," she said, giving her a reproachful look. "What? I'm sorry, I never liked her and I really tried." "You didn't try hard enough." "Anyway, if that's what you want, I'll support you. Do you need me to come with you? With the constant dizziness you're experiencing and the risk of fainting, you shouldn't go alone. Norma and I could accompany you; I know she'll be free in the afternoon." "It's not necessary." "It is." "I'm not a dying person who needs help for everything," she replied with a haughty tone mixed with disdain.
"Don't be unfriendly, Lauren. Nobody thinks you're a dying person who needs help with everything."
"It's how you, Norma, and Ashley make me feel. I feel like a useless person all the time when you think I'm already incapacitated to drive or even walk alone. I confided in you about my illness so that you wouldn't be caught off guard if one day I don't wake up again, but I want to try to keep being myself for the time I have left. I don't need to be reminded of how messed up I am," she exhaled all the frustration contained in that protest.
Ally looked at her carefully and Lauren could discern affliction and distress in her friend's gaze, but the green-eyed woman hated to be seen with affliction, with sorrow. She was always so strong, and even in her worst times, she remained so. She stayed isolated from everyone so they wouldn't witness her sinking into her own misery. She chose to be alone back then, and the refuge she found was only disguised as a safeguard. Now she faced a different affliction, but imitated her past behavior; she didn't want anyone's help.
"Well..." her friend commented, not knowing what to say in response to her bluntness. "If that's what you want, but you should know that you're being very inconsiderate," she furrowed her brow, indicating her annoyance.
"Inconsiderate?" she was astonished. "Bullshit, Ally. I just want to keep up with the pace of my normal life, is that so hard to understand? I don't need pity; I brought this upon myself and now I'm the one who has to face it. I don't want you to have to deal with my past mistakes, and above all, I don't want to be a disease that infects everything it touches. I don't think I'm being inconsiderate."
"Those traumas from the past should have stayed buried, don't bring them up now. You're not your father."
"Of course I'm not him," she retorted with disgust, as the mere idea disgusted her.
"Well, your arrogant pride reflects the image of the man in question." Her friend's words were like her Achilles' heel, and had a piercing effect on her already defective heart, even bringing an expression of tedium to mask the pain they caused.
"Go away, Ally," she said, holding back her anger to avoid a verbal outburst.
She then turned her green gaze away from her friend, inhaling and exhaling to maintain control, while Ally let out a tired exhale and then got up from her seat and traced her way to the threshold of the exit.
"If you really think you're going to die, don't you think it's time to leave past grudges behind?" she said, with the doorknob in her hand, ready to leave. "And I'm not saying that because of religion, but so that you can live in peace with yourself for the next few years that you believe you have."
The conversation ended with silence wandering in the surroundings and Ally leaving the office, while the green-eyed woman was overwhelmed by a fit of rage that pushed her to throw her coffee cup far away, shattering it against the floor and spilling its contents all over.
Why was it that when things finally got better for her, the shadow of her past overshadowed her radiant present, contaminating her space with darkness? She didn't understand it; it must be some sort of karma coming back to haunt her now.
She did some extra work and left the publishing company later. She was very stubborn, and even though her friends and girlfriend recommended a driver for her safety, she ignored them and kept driving herself. Of course, she took some precautions; she drove slowly and kept the windows open for fresh air; she avoided highways and main roads that could lead to a colossal crash, although sometimes it was necessary within the map of her routes.
She drove to a jewelry boutique in Downtown and parked a few blocks away where there were parking spots on one side of the street; but she didn't get out of her BMW, instead she stayed inside for several minutes, observing from the window the surroundings that exposed themselves to her emerald orbs. It was an impulse that had never assaulted her before, but now she enjoyed appreciating the details that surrounded her. So, she contemplated the smiles of the people who passed by and wondered if those beings were also facing difficulties, perhaps different issues, perhaps none of them were fighting a battle with death like she was, otherwise why would they smile as they did? But after a while, her attention shifted to the couples eating ice cream from the stands set up on the corners, looking so cheesy, sharing their ice creams and smearing them on their faces, while laughing out loud, and that was when she understood something that had gone unnoticed for many years.
She didn't know that kind of love, young, foolish, and cheesy love, where they exchange beautiful words, feelings, and eternal promises, even though those promises could be broken if they failed. She was more realistic, she didn't promise things she couldn't fulfill, and she hadn't felt the urge to expose her most intimate feelings to anyone. Her girlfriend was there, by her side, every day, but it was more out of the need to fill a space of loneliness, a space of loneliness that she even feared, as a consequence of the absence of her parents during her childhood. She said "I love you" from time to time, but did she really feel it? She supposed so, because she didn't really know how it felt, she thought she loved her because among the women who had passed through her life, she was the only one who accepted her shitty life; who never betrayed her trust and who stayed when the others left. Now a question stained the walls of her intellectual space: Did Ashley deserve that? That woman loved her wildly and Lauren didn't consider herself worthy of her love when she couldn't reciprocate with the same intensity.
***
"I don't want to disappoint you, buddy, but the rings are tremendously expensive in this place," advised his friend as they stopped their walk on the sidewalk in front of an Italian jewelry boutique.
"Oh come on, James, Karla deserves it," replied Peter.
"I'm not saying she doesn't, just that now that you're planning on buying a house, you should save a bit on this," responded James.
"I read on a forum that depending on the size of the diamond, a woman can measure how much you love her," said Peter.
"Are you serious, Peter? A forum?"
"It was made up of women, so it must have some truth to it."
"I don't mean that, I mean did you really search forums for advice on this?"
"What can I say? I want to impress her," shrugged Peter.
His friend shook his head in disappointment.
"What?" asked Peter.
"Forget it, Peter. Just tell me you deleted the history on your computer."
"I did, I'm not stupid. I wouldn't let Karla find out before the proposal."
"No, I wasn't talking about that. I meant she'll probably leave you if she finds out you're so dumb as to look for help on forums," laughed James.
"Shut up," Peter playfully punched his friend's arm, and James returned the gesture. For a few seconds, they exchanged blows until they both ended up laughing.
"Stop, stop, we're too old for this."
"Well, you didn't say that a few days ago when we were competing for the longest burp," teased James, eliciting laughter from his friend, and they both laughed. "Anyway, just go in there and buy the damn ring," James encouraged, grabbing Peter by the back of his neck and pushing him into the jewelry boutique.
***
Time passed marked on the clock, and after a long while, she finally got out of the car and made her way towards the boutique, where she entered. At first glance, the place was deserted except for two customers looking at the jewelry displays and the impeccably dressed shop assistants behind the counters.
"Good afternoon, miss. How can I help you?" the shop assistant attended to her.
"Thank you, I have an appointment with Leo Amoretti for the design of a ring," she replied using a formal intonation and a sober gesture.
"Oh, yes, Miss Jaoguar?"
"Yes."
"Please wait a second, I will inform him of your presence," he politely informed her before retreating behind a door and disappearing from her field of vision.
Lauren once again took in her surroundings while she waited, and her attention shifted to the two men who were choosing a ring from the display case. She noticed that they seemed excited about the task, as someone who is choosing an engagement ring for the person they hope will stay by their side for the rest of their life should be. Lauren realized that she did not radiate the same happiness as that man, and her weak heart tightened because of it. Why didn't she look like that? Was it because of her life sentence? Her heart? Why? She didn't know, she didn't understand. She wanted to draw a smile to look more appropriate, but she regretted it because it might look fake, so she just stood there and even concentrated on the conversation of the two men.
"Damn, I didn't know rings had sizes."
his smile before he turned his attention back to the shop assistant.
"She's a small and slender woman, so I guess it must be the smallest size."
"It's a size five, sir," the assistant replied.
"Yes, I suppose that one. Now I can only pray that someone up there is listening to me."
"Five is too small," Lauren interjected from her spot, and both men looked at her. "The average size is seven, but if her fingers are too thin, you could consider a six or six and a half. Five is just too small," the green-eyed woman advised.
"Thank you," Peter smiled at her. "This is the first time I buy her a ring, I hope she doesn't say no in case it gets stuck on her finger," he joked, and Lauren smiled back at him.
"Did your little helper forget to mention that?" his friend teased, making
"I hope not. In that case, better go with a six and a half, it's better to be a little loose than too tight and get stuck on her finger."
"Thanks for the advice," they smiled at each other again. "Oh, and... can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," the green-eyed woman granted him permission.
"Does the size of the diamond really indicate how much we love them when we ask for their hand in marriage?" he asked cautiously, and James clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. Peter gave him a bored look before returning his gaze to the green-eyed woman, waiting for her response. "If your boyfriend asked for your hand, would you pay attention to the size of the stone?"
Lauren let out a chuckle.
"Actually, I'm the one who's going to propose to my girlfriend, but..."
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said apologetically, mixed with embarrassment.
"No, it's okay. Don't worry," she downplayed the situation with a friendly tone. "But... I don't think the money you spend on a stone can tell someone how much you love them. You show that with actions."
The green-eyed woman was surprised by her own words and felt oppressed by them, realizing that all the love she had dedicated to her girlfriend was based on just that, on gifts, trips, jewelry, but never actions.
Peter smiled.
"You're absolutely right. Thank you."
"Miss Jaoguar?" intervened the shop assistant who had gone to look for the designer. "Please follow me to the second level, Mr. Amoretti is waiting for you."
"Thank you," she responded to the assistant, then turned her gaze back to Peter. "Good luck with your proposal," she wished him with a smile.
"Good luck with yours too," he returned the gesture.
They exchanged a final smile before Lauren made her way to the second level to discuss with the designer the engagement ring she would offer to her girlfriend, while Peter stayed behind to choose one of the models in the display case. After finally making his decision, he paid for it and eagerly placed it in the pocket of his blazer. He left with his friend, and they walked to the area where they had parked, ready to return to their jobs as they had used their lunch break to choose the jewel. Now, Peter would return to the construction company while James headed to the clinic.
On their way to James' workplace, Peter drove and they joked about his future growing old with Karla and how that would mark the end of the adventurous journey they had lived since high school.
"I won't have to invite you to a party at a bar anymore, but to my kids' birthday party," Peter joked.
"And instead of passing around a tray of whisky, we'll have to pass around stress pills," his friend added.
"Good thing you're a doctor and can prescribe them for me," Peter replied.
"I can also give you sedatives, you're going to need them."
They both laughed out loud as they parked in front of the hospital.
"Well, this is where my journey ends," James announced as he opened the car door and stepped out.
"Hey, James, have you heard anything about donors for Regina? Has anyone else come forward?"
"No one who is a match for Regina's blood type, and other issues as well."
"Again," shaking his head in frustration.
"It's a slow process, but Regina has priority on the beneficiary list due to her young age and medical history. So hope is still alive."
"But Jane said they tested the second possible donor, and he was also ruled out."
"Yes, her blood type is not very common, it's B negative like yours, that's the downside. But we have to be patient, and besides, Regina has plenty of time on her side."
"Okay, let us know if you hear anything."
"Of course. For now, focus on doing well tonight."
"Oh man, you don't know how nervous I am."
"Relax, she'll say yes. I have no doubt about that," he shook his friend's hand, his old school friend, and smiled before leaving.
And with his farewell, the sky darkened, foreshadowing the rain, a torrid spring rain, cold, that began subtly like the dew of a morning and gradually gained strength until it became torrential.
That Friday afternoon, Peter was pondering and writing in his notebook, his monologue to recite on the night of his long-awaited proposal, which was only hours away. Within his scheme was taking Karla to dinner at a beautiful and luxurious restaurant that would serve as a setting to set the mood for the night. He would enjoy a friendly chat with her, mentioning their future plans, and communicate the pleasant news that his business dealings with his boss had prospered to the point of offering him the opportunity of a lifetime, finally being able to buy their own house, a home for both of them. He would also propose bringing Karla's parents with the savings they had managed to accumulate so that the Cuban could finally reunite with her absent family. And I tell you all this because it wouldn't happen as planned.
Peter left work promptly at five and had an hour to spare to drive to the café and pick her up. After that, he would take her home so she could change her clothes and then head to the restaurant reservation. He had plenty of time, so he went home first and dressed appropriately. He said goodbye to Trueno and promised to come back early because his dog was more restless than usual, barking, howling, licking, warning him... He wanted him to stay, but Trueno couldn't manage it, all he got was a slight delay.
Before getting into his car, he called Karla and she answered.
"Hi, love. I'm almost ready, are you outside?" she asked, her tone cheerful in contrast to the curve her lips formed upon hearing her boyfriend's calm voice.
"No, I'm running a little late, but I'm on my way to pick you up. Please wait for me, don't go with Jane if you don't see me outside."
"I'll wait for you my whole life," she said.
Despite being far away from her, he smiled and settled into the driver's seat of his Nissan.
"I adore you. Please remember that," he said.
"And I adore you, and I hope to see you here so you can remind me with one of your kisses," she replied.
"With all the kisses you want. I promise."
That dreary day was not the work of Destiny, karma, nature, or any intangible entity that people might want to attribute omnipotence to. No, it was the work of human hands. Peter left the house at fifteen minutes to six, while the rain drenched the city. He drove fast on the highway to avoid being late to his destination.
***
Lauren threw her bag somewhere in the living room of her apartment and collapsed heavily onto the couch as if she had been carrying an immense weight on her shoulders. Only then, when the warmth of her home surrounded her and the peace played in the background, could she unload that weight and take refuge in her personal space.
That day something changed. She realized her end was imminent and began to devise plans for her departure. It was part of her nature to think ahead, and she wanted the loved ones in her life to be well taken care of after her death. She also wanted to smooth out the rough edges of her past. Her friend's sermon had touched a nerve deep inside her, adding to the fresh perspective she gained that day. Now, she wanted to reconcile with her father after years of resentment and guilt following the deaths of her mother and sister. He had once been her hero when she was just a little girl, so it wasn't easy to accept the situation. Nevertheless, she would try hard to do so and finally close that bitter chapter and extinguish the fire in her head fueled by her conscience.
Lauren also wanted to reunite with her brother and tell him what she had never said. She wanted to mend things with her friends and apologize for being so inconsiderate, which she was only now acknowledging as she faced her own thoughts. Additionally, she wanted to marry her girlfriend soon. It would have to be a very intimate affair, without any extravagance, because time was running out, and there was no time for ostentatious preparations. She thought that perhaps during the wedding reception, she could make amends with her family when she invited them to share that moment with her. Yes, that's what she would do. That's what she pondered she would do.
Resignation was not a good guide as it led her to the kitchen of her penthouse apartment in a gigantic building with magnificent views provided by the glass walls. There she rummaged through the cabinets for something to drink, specifically an alcoholic drink, as the bar area next to the living room was devoid of liquor for her own good. Although her search ended in the refrigerator, where she found the sangria her maid used to add to meats when cooking, so she brought it over to the couch along with a glass. She wasn't allowed to drink, but today she wasn't willing to obediently follow her doctor's rules.
Then she drank two glasses in a row and damn! How she missed this, even though sangria was not exactly her favorite, she preferred liquors that made her wrinkle her face when they burned her throat, but it was something she hadn't tried in a long time and it felt like an elixir to her.
She looked for a specific contact in her phone and dialed it, but her brother didn't answer and the tone rang again and again.
"Hello, this is Christian. I can't take your call right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you," his pre-recorded voice recited on the answering machine.
Silence filled the room for the next few seconds until she took a deep breath and managed to speak. After the first word, the rest came out.
"Hi, Christian. It's me... Lauren. I was calling because I thought maybe we could see each other someday and... "— and I miss you—, but she couldn't bring herself to say it "and talk. I don't know... Maybe this call seems strange to you; don't think it's a cry for help because I'm in trouble again, no, I just want to talk, I promise. If you want... Call me," —I need you— she exhaled a sigh.
She hung up and tossed her phone aside with disdain. That brief contact brought back disturbing memories to the forefront of her mind that she wished she could erase completely. That's why she drank the third glass, the fourth, the fifth glass descended down her throat as if it were a balm to her wound, but only exceeded the limit. When she drank the sixth glass, a strong squeeze pierced her heart as a result of the risk she challenged; a groan of pain was ripped from her while it was etched into her features. Her pulse dictated a fast and erratic rhythm unleashing her deepest fears. She immediately put her hand on her chest, as if it reflected some sort of aid, but it was useless; the pain was not superficial, it came from within, from her malevolent heart and spread through her left arm.
The glass slipped from her hand and crashed onto the pristine marble floor, the noise startling the hoarseness. It shattered into hundreds of pieces that scattered across the floor along with the contents of the glass. She tried to get up and make her way to the terrace area a few meters away from the living room, in search of fresh air, but failed in her attempt as she only made it to the sliding glass door and her hands lost the strength to assist her. There, along with all the energy in her body and a cold sweat, she collapsed. Then, she languidly lost consciousness and blackness painted her surroundings.
***
On the way, Peter turned on the audio system playing Karla's favorite repertoire, and with it, he began to sing while driving. At each traffic light stop, the drivers in the surrounding cars looked at him with a strange expression, but he didn't care, he was happy and wanted the whole world to know it.
He parked at a florist's shop on the way. Hurrying his steps, he chose a bouquet of red roses — her favorite — and took them back to the car to continue driving at full speed, still within the allowed limit, and took the highway to shorten the distance.
At five fifty-two, when Peter was driving on the highway, his radiant happiness was clouded like a stormy sky when a truck that was driving even faster than Peter abruptly crashed into the side of his vehicle. For a brief moment, Peter was overcome by a brutal and immense fear of never seeing the smile of the person he had loved most in his short life. Yes, he thought of her that last moment of consciousness, because that crash caused the car he was driving to skid uncontrollably on the slippery ground and in the midst of losing control, collide with one of the palm trees that lined the road, ending life as they knew it there.
***
As Karla stood in the rain, the intensity of the sun's glow began to fade, marking its departure in harmony with the dark veil that draped over the city. The full moon was already rising in the east, and Karla couldn't remain immobile on the bench at the platform next to her friend. There was a crushing feeling murmuring a bad omen, but her hopes blazed on, ignoring the warnings of her gut feeling. Nevertheless, her restlessness fluttered uneasily within her body. She paced back and forth, scanning all her surroundings while the rain poured down on her, shielding herself from it with the hood of her sweatshirt.
"I don't like this, Jane. Peter never takes this long," she expressed with concern, as she once again peered in the direction from which he always arrived.
"Relax and come back here to wait for him. You'll catch a cold if you keep getting wet," her friend advised, who was sheltering from the rain under the bus stop shelter.
"I'm serious, Jane. Something happened to Peter," she recited nervously, facing her friend's gaze.
"Maybe he got caught in rush hour traffic. Call him again to see if he answers," she explained, downplaying the situation, trying to reduce her friend's anxiety.
Karla complied and rummaged through her pockets for her device. She almost prayed in her mind while she listened for the ringtone in her ear, and her boyfriend didn't answer.
"Hello?"
"God!" she exclaimed, releasing all the air held in her lungs. "Finally, you answer. Why...?"
"Hello?" the voice repeated, and this time Karla was stunned after analyzing the tone and understanding that it was not her boyfriend's voice.
"Who... who is this? Where's Peter?"
Her friend became interested immediately after reading the puzzled expression on Karla's face and hurried over to her.
"I'm paramedic Swanson," the man introduced himself, leaving Karla petrified, "I regret to inform you that the phone owner is currently being rushed to the emergency room after a severe crash on the highway..."
Then the man's voice became distant and almost unintelligible as the rough beats of her heart went wild, to the point of feeling the thunderous sound of her own heartbeats in her ear, censoring any noise from the outside world and feeling like the weight of the world was crushing down on her. Her eyes shed tears and her friend immediately showed a concerned expression after reading her face. She asked a question, but Karla couldn't hear it, feeling like she was about to faint in that moment. She moved the phone away from her ear, feeling unable to hold the call, and now her friend took the phone and brought it to her own ear while Karla rested her weak strength sitting on the bench, with tears creating rivers on her cheeks. And the tears crossed the barrier of her throat.
***
Ashley entered the apartment she shared with her girlfriend in South Pointe Beach, with a smile on her lips after her shopping spree, which was further fueled by seeing her hands laden with shopping bags. She arrived without hesitation, unloaded the bags on the floor, while closing the door to pick them up again once she was done enjoying her excitement. Then she took a few more steps when her heart suffered a direct blow as she saw her girlfriend lying face down on the floor, unconscious and defeated.
"Lauren!" she cried out alarmed, dropping the bags from her hands and rushing to assist her.
"Oh my God, Lauren, please!" she cried out in terror, kneeling down on the ground to turn her girlfriend's body over. When she did, she quickly began shaking her by the shoulders and patting her cheeks, while crying out in fear, "NO! NO! NO! Lauren, please! Wake up, my love! PLEASE!" with tears tangled in her words.
But she couldn't get her to open her eyes, so she quickly got up to run and get her phone to call an ambulance. It was difficult for her to dictate the directions to the clinic, as her crying was getting in the way of her words, but she managed to ask for help and once she completed the action, she ran back to her girlfriend. She stroked her cheeks and wished she could see her green eyes now imprisoned by her stubborn eyelids that refused to reveal the emerald color so characteristic of her. She cradled her head on her lap and looked around the room, everything was blurry because of the tears, but she could distinguish the broken glass and spilled red wine on the floor not far from her girlfriend, and in another of her expeditions, she found the wine bottle resting intact on the coffee table.
"No, no, no, Lauren, why did you do this?!" She began searching for her pulse and her heart raced wildly when she couldn't find her heartbeat.
"Oh my God! This can't be happening! Lauren, please, open your eyes! Don't do this to me! LAUREN!"
That was the end of her life as she knew it.
**********
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