Chapter 3 Love me

Chapter 3

(POINT OF VIEW : MIGUEL HERNANDEZ & ANGELICA SMITH)

Weeks later...

I sit alone in the living room, my elbows resting on my knees, staring blankly at my phone. I try Angelica's number again-for the fiftieth time today, maybe more. Still no answer. The silence on the other end of the line is deafening.

What is this woman doing to me, for God's sake ?

I'm currently in Mexico, visiting my parents. I needed to get away from everything, from the noise, the expectations, and especially from Jessica. But most of all, I needed to clear my mind-and maybe, just maybe, hear Angelica's voice again.

-Angelica, for God's sake, please turn on your phone, I say aloud, not realizing how loud I've become.

-Who's this Angelica again ? my mother's voice rings from behind me.

My heart thuds loudly in my chest as I whip my head toward her.

-I hope you're not cheating on Jessica, my boy, she adds, walking closer with that look only mothers can give.

Her tone is sharp, but her eyes are filled with concern. She stands there, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for my answer.

-Aren't you Miguel Hernandez ? she asks, her brow arched as she sits across from me.

I force a smile and raise my eyes to meet hers.

Chanceline Rodriguez, wife of Rodrigue Hernandez, is the best mother in the world. She raised me and my two sisters with nothing but love and high expectations. My sisters are both studying in Europe, making us all proud. And me ? Well, I'm still trying to figure things out, apparently.

-Oh, my sweet mama, how are you doing ? I say, trying to sweet-talk her.

-No, don't even try it. I asked you a question. Answer me, she says, not falling for it.

-Mom, I'm not cheating on your beloved Jessica, okay ? So, relax.

-You better not be, because she's been complaining a lot lately... about you, she adds, narrowing her eyes.

-Don't finish that sentence, please ! I cut her off sharply, my voice louder than I intended.

Why does Jessica always have to run to my mom ? Why can't she come to me with our problems like an adult ? Why does she act like she's twelve when she's nearly thirty ?

-Why are you shouting like that ? my mother asks, slightly taken aback.

I run my hands through my hair and let out a breath.

-Because Jessica acts like a child, Mom ! She's 29 years old, damn it ! Every time something goes wrong, she runs straight to you. I'm tired of this cycle. We have issues, yes-but they're between us. Not you.

-Lower your voice. She's not attacking you. She just told me that lately, you haven't been spending any time with her and that you're constantly distracted, she says calmly.

-I'm going back, Mom. I came for a film shoot and wanted to stop by to see you guys. Now, I've said hi. It's time for me to leave. Take care of yourself, I say, getting to my feet.

-But sweetheart... I-

I don't let her finish. I kiss her cheek quickly and walk out of the room. I'll see Dad next time. Right now, I need to get out. I need fresh air. I need Angelica.

More than anything, I need to hear her voice.

Angelica Smith

-I still can't believe it ! All your paintings have been sold, and your gallery keeps gaining popularity every single day ! my mother exclaims, beaming with pride.

I glance at her with a small smile. She has no idea the gallery is mine. No one does. Not the public. Not even Miguel. I set it up quietly and hired a manager to run it. She updates me every week, and things are going better than I could have hoped.

But even with that success, I feel... empty.

It's been months since I last spoke to Miguel. I had to cut off communication-for both our sakes. He already has a girlfriend, and I didn't want to come between them. It hurt too much to keep pretending nothing was happening in my heart.

-What's wrong, Angelica ? A few months ago, you were glowing with joy. Now you're back to being silent and withdrawn again, my mother says, studying me closely.

-I... I stopped talking to the person who used to make me smile, I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

-You... what ? Why ? Did he say something to you ? Did he hurt you ? she asks, sitting beside me with concern all over her face.

-I just... couldn't anymore. He already has someone. It didn't feel right to keep in touch, I say softly.

She frowns and suddenly picks up my phone, which has been off for weeks.

-How long has it been since you turned this thing on ? she asks, already pressing the power button despite my protest.

-Mom, please. Not my phone. It's better if I stay away from reality right now, I try to argue.

She ignores me and starts scrolling through my messages and emails.

-Well, well... looks like there's a certain Miguel who's been blowing up your Facebook. Tons of messages, she says, giving me a sly smile. Is he your boyfriend ?

I snatch the phone from her, needing to see it with my own eyes. My heart pounds as I read through message after message. He wrote to me almost every day. He didn't stop thinking about me.

My eyes burn. I throw my phone onto the bed and let out a shaky breath.

-What's going on, honey ? my mother asks gently.

-I love him. But he only sees me as a friend. He already has a girlfriend, and if I keep talking to him, I'll just keep hurting myself for nothing, I say as tears stream down my face.

-Oh, sweetheart. So now you've fallen in love, and he's already taken... Don't worry, honey. I'm sure the right man will come along. Someone who's meant for you, someone who will see you for who you are and love you for it, she says, pulling me into a comforting hug.

I'm about to respond when my phone starts ringing again. The sound slices through the room like a knife.

I pull away gently and glance down. My heart skips a beat when I see the name.

Miguel.

My heart pounds wildly in my chest. I can't answer. No. I shouldn't.

But the phone keeps ringing, over and over again.

-Is it him ? my mother asks softly.

I nod, clutching the phone tightly.

-Answer it, baby. He's clearly desperate to talk to you. At least listen to what he has to say, she urges.

With trembling fingers, I press the green button and slowly raise the phone to my ear.

-Hello ? I whisper.

-Angelica, I want to see you. I need to see you. And a no... is not acceptable, Miguel says, his voice low, intense, and unwavering.

My breath catches in my throat. My heart is a thunderstorm inside my chest. This isn't over.

Not even close.