Chapter Ten (Jane POV)
"Why do you have all of these outgoing calls to Michael on your phone?"
My response to that is kneejerk. I forget about the box I am currently packing and lurch forward to where Rafael stands in the threshold of my old bedroom to snatch my phone from his palm. "What are you doing?" I demand, the accusation in my tone apparent, "So you're just going through my phone now?"
"It was ringing," he explains calmly, "I didn't reach it in time so I was checking your missed calls."
Just like that, my indignation is replaced with chagrin. "Oh," I reply, suddenly feeling ridiculous over my volatile reaction, "Sorry. Thank you. But maybe next time just bring the phone to me." I sincerely hope that he will let it go after that but I should have known better.
"You seem rather defensive about me answering your phone, Jane." He slides his hands into his pockets and regards me with a cool, speculative stare. "Is there a particular reason why?"
Because I'm still in love with Michael. The words are fairly exploding in my brain right now but I don't dare voice them aloud. It has taken me several weeks to even reach the point where I could even admit that there were feelings at all. In the beginning, I rationalized them away. It was our deep, emotional history. It was the latent connection we shared due to our marriage. It was because he had once known me better than all others. He had been my partner in crime. I could be my realest self with him.
Of course, I would feel attached to him. He knew me in a way that no one else did. But that was only sentiment, right? It doesn't matter that my heart flutters every time he's in the room or that I sometimes fantasize about kissing him or that I miss sleeping next to him at night. Who doesn't daydream about their former husband while engaged to another man? That's what I told myself, over and over, until I eventually realized I've been in this same place once before. Now I've reached the point where I can't reason my desire for him away anymore. It's practically all that I think about.
Truthfully, I suppose I've always known that my feelings for Michael hadn't completely vanished. After all, we had been married and had anticipated spending the rest of our lives together. My love for him had remained well beyond his death but without the same undeniable pull. Instead, it was as if my love for him had fallen into stasis. In order to move on, I had buried my need for him deep and for five years it had lain dormant, never to be awakened again…until suddenly it was. Now, I couldn't quell the warmth that came up into my heart unbidden whenever I was near him, whenever I thought of him.
Still, I've been trying very hard to convince myself that the feelings will go away. We are both involved with other people and have moved far beyond the life we'd once shared. Michael had even come right out and told me that there was no chance for us romantically because he wanted Lorena and no one else. Considering the history he had with her, I had believed him too. I truly had…until that day in Target when he remembered our first calamitous camping trip together. Ever since that day, the way he looks at me is different. I can't pinpoint what it is but something has most definitely shifted for him.
He's been extremely guarded with me ever since. We still spend time together and he continues to eat dinner with me and my family on a weekly basis. He's even taken a job in the meantime at a local body shop to support himself while he stays in Miami. Finally, the fear I've been harboring that he will one day disappear into the ether as suddenly as he appeared is beginning to abate. Still, even with that reassurance, I can sense his tension whenever we are together.
While he is growing closer and more comfortable with my family, even to the point of tentatively and gradually rebuilding his relationship with all of them, Michael has become much more formal with me. It feels as if he's put a wall up between us and I can sense the distance grow every time we're together. And while I understand that distance is probably a needed thing, especially now when I've accepted Rafael's proposal and we are set to move in with each other tomorrow, I can't help but miss the relaxed intimacy that Michael and I used to share. It's especially difficult because I suspect, even in spite of his reserve, Michael misses it as much as I do.
It's little wonder then that I'm so jumpy about Rafael answering my phone. I feel guilty. Even though I haven't cheated physically or emotionally, my heart is divided and I know that's not fair to Rafael. I did accept his marriage proposal after all. I owe him my unwavering loyalty. He deserves as much from me.
Back when the roles had been reversed and I was developing feelings for Rafael while still with Michael, I had ended my engagement to Michael and that had proved to be a mistake. I have no desire to repeat it. I'm going to marry Rafael so I know I need to work through my feelings for Michael and fight hard to excise them. In spite of my determination, the guilt remains intense.
Still, it's a little ironic that those outgoing calls should stir up such feelings of self-flagellation inside me since most of them hadn't come from me in the first place. The fault lies squarely with my son. Lately, Mateo has been dialing Michael every chance he gets. I tell Rafael as much.
"I didn't realize they were talking so often," he mumbles in a tone I know indicates displeasure, "When did that start happening?"
"You already know that Mateo is fascinated with him. He's been so excited about this camping trip that he's called Michael every day this week."
"And you're okay with that?"
I regard him with a wary scowl as I pocket my phone. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you're encouraging our son to spend time with a stranger."
"Michael isn't a stranger!" I flare, "He's Mateo's godfather! And besides, you agreed to the trip!"
"What choice did I have? You already promised Mateo he could go!"
I concede his point before our argument can escalate further. "You're right," I tell him, "I should have consulted with you first but Mateo had just had a meltdown and it seemed like a good way to keep him calm." I refrain from adding that the moment actually helped to bring Michael's memories of camping to the surface because I suspect that will only worsen Rafael's mood. Unfortunately, his next comment makes it clear that there is no improving his mood regardless of what I say or don't say.
"Well, goody. Michael to the rescue yet again."
I stiffen at the embittered edge in his words and suddenly my earlier decision to avoid an argument is forgotten. "Mateo is really excited about going on this camping trip, Raf. Why are you being such a dick about it?"
"Maybe because I'm sick of this guy trying to insinuate his way into my family and take what's mine! It's been happening for years and I'm over it!"
He is so loud that his voice literally echoes within the confines of my near empty room. I immediately think of Mateo in the living room watching tv. "Would you keep your voice down?" I hiss, tensing in expectation for the rapid patter of my son's little feet. When that doesn't happen, I gingerly close my bedroom door (because I anticipate way more yelling) and then whip to face Rafael again. "Excuse me? Since when are Mateo and I possessions to you?"
Rafael has the grace, at least, to appear ashamed. "I didn't mean it that way," he grumbles.
"Then how did you mean it? Because you make it sound like you think Michael is trying to steal your toys or something!"
"Mateo is my son, Jane," he says as if that is statement enough, "And you are my fiancée, soon to be my wife. You are my family, not his! He's always done this. He's always inserted himself where he doesn't belong!"
"No, he hasn't."
"Like hell he hasn't!"
"Listen, Michael knows that Mateo and I are your family, Raf. How can he not know it when you remind him every chance you get?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he knows it but, does he actually respect it?"
I throw up my hands with a dramatic huff of pure exasperation. "Of course he does!"
"You've always had a blind spot when it comes to him," Rafael says, "You never can see when he's angling for you but I can see clearly. This is so typical of him! He's waiting for the right moment to swoop in and take you from me."
"That's ridiculous. Michael is not 'angling' for me. He's an amnesiac. He doesn't even remember being with me!"
"He wants you."
"That is not true," I deny softly, although in the most secret part of my heart I have begun to wonder lately if that could be true, "Michael is involved with someone else and he cares for her very much. He doesn't think of me that way."
"Do you think of him that way?"
Now that's a tricky question. This is the first time since we began our impassioned back and forth that I don't have a ready answer for him. It is much easier to speak for Michael's feelings than to speak for my own. Maybe because I recognize then that I will have to voice the truth out loud and I don't know if I'm ready to deal with the fallout from that.
Finally, I say to him, "I agreed to marry you, Raf, not Michael."
"That's not what I'm asking you."
"That's the only thing that should matter!"
He blinks back the hurt that gathers in his eyes with my non-reply. Even if I don't say the words, I suspect that he knows what I feel and his next words confirm it. "Then I guess that's my answer. You still love him." The words sound as if they are being ripped from his chest, as if it had taken a monumental struggle for him to even voice them. "I suppose I always suspected it," he utters thickly, "but I didn't want it to be true."
"You knew this already, Raf," I remind him gently, "I told you that my feelings were complicated the second I knew he was back."
"But that was more than a month ago, Jane!" he retorts, "We're supposed to be moving into a new house tomorrow! You agreed to marry me and you're telling me that your feelings are still 'complicated?'"
"He was my husband. I thought he died and I just found out that what he went through instead might have actually been worse than death. Of course my feelings are still complicated!"
It's not my intention to hurt him but there is no possible way to avoid doing so. I want to honor my commitment to him but I can't lie. I won't lie because that will just make everything worse. But it's so hard to hurt him. I watch with a sorrowful heart as he makes a valiant effort to compose himself.
"Well…if you feel that way, maybe we should call off the engagement until you can figure out what you want."
I'm surprised by how calm I remain in that moment because internally I am screaming. I've been so resolved not to break the engagement that I never for a moment considered that Rafael might do it instead. "Is that what you want?" I ask him.
"What I want?" he scoffs, "You're asking what I want? How's this, Jane? I want my fiancée not to be in love with another man!"
The acrimony in his words makes me flinch and saddens me as well, mostly because it doesn't sound or seem like the Rafael I know. He hasn't been this angry in a very long time and I regret that I am the one bringing it out of him now. This situation hasn't been easy on me to be sure but it's also taking a heavy toll on Rafael as well. His self-confidence is being battered on a daily basis. I recognize then that being apart may be a kindness to him in the long run. We may need a break from each other as much for his sake as for mine.
"Then you're right," I consider tearfully, "Maybe we should call off the engagement for now."
But rather than leaving him satisfied, my concession seems to make him angrier instead. "So that's it? You want to end it? You're done with me?"
I blink at him incredulously, unable to fathom how this has come back around on me. "This was your suggestion, Raf!"
"And you were only too eager to agree!" he flings back, "That's fine. We'll do that but Mateo comes with me. He's been talking nonstop about moving into our new house together and I, for one, am not going to disappoint him!"
"Of course you should still move into the house and Mateo can come to stay with you three times a week like always," I reply in as an accommodating tone as I can muster, "I'll stay here at Abuela's until I can figure something else out."
"No. I mean that Mateo should come to live with me full-time."
I cock my head closer as if I had misheard him. "I'm sorry, come again?"
"You heard me," he maintains stubbornly, "Mateo needs a stable family and home life. He needs someone who is willing to put his needs first."
My first instinct is to fly off the handle completely. After all, this is Rafael's primary mode of operations. Whenever I feel or want something that is out of line with his expectations, he uses Mateo like a dog whistle in order to bring me to heel. It is something I've always known about him and I've made allowances when it happens because I know how important family is to Rafael and how terrified he is of losing the stability we've created these last five years. He isn't doing it to be spiteful or controlling at all. His actions are motivated purely by fear.
However, at this particular moment, I'm not feeling very magnanimous towards him or his feelings because this isn't about him. It's about me and it's about Michael. I lost my husband and best friend and Michael lost his place in his own life. We are the ones who suffered in this situation. Rafael is only living with the fallout while we bear the scars, emotional and physical. I know that he's hurt but the idea that Rafael should react as if he's somehow being victimized makes me want to throttle him.
"So what are you saying, Raf?" I challenge angrily, "You don't think I can provide Mateo with a stable home life? You don't think that I put him first?"
"Your first priority is and always has been Michael Cordero."
"What a load of crap," I retort, "You do remember that Michael was kidnapped, tortured and had five years of his life stolen from him and that's likely because Sin Rostro aka your wicked stepmother wanted to stick it to you and used Michael to do it!"
"How can I forget when you never pass up an opportunity to remind me?"
I check the impulse to growl at him. "I don't understand why you're taking this personally or what it has to do with what kind of mother I am to Mateo! You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt our son and I want what's best for him!"
"Uprooting him with all of these changes isn't good for him, Jane," Rafael argues, "First we're moving in together and then we're not. Then we're getting married and then we're not! Mateo needs consistency."
"This isn't a consistent time in our lives, okay! I'm doing the best I can."
"Well, maybe that's not good enough," he sighs, "What do you think it's going to do to him when you run off to be with Michael again and right after we tell him that we won't be the family he wants?"
"What are you talking about? I'm not going to run off with Michael!"
Rafael's demeanor abruptly shifts from self-righteous belligerence to befuddlement. "Wait. You're not?"
"No. Why would I?"
"But you just told me you-,"
"—Yes, I still have feelings for him," I finish in a crisp tone, "I'm probably always going to have feelings for him but that doesn't mean we're going to be together." As far as I know at that moment, that statement is true and so when I tell Rafael that Michael and I aren't going to be together, I am being completely honest. "We're friends. That's all we are."
He blinks at me sheepishly. "Oh."
"I've been telling you that for the last month but it seems like you're not hearing me."
"Do you blame me, Jane? When your fiancée tells you that she's in love with another guy, a guy she's already left you for multiple times, it doesn't exactly feel great, okay."
"I'm not your fiancée," I correct him in a starchy tone, "So we don't have any problem there."
He expels a humorless laugh. "Jane, come on."
"Also, don't you ever threaten to take Mateo from me again! I don't deserve that!"
"You know I didn't mean that. I was angry and I was jealous."
"That's right. You were. It's still no excuse."
He spreads out his hands to me in supplication. "Obviously I jumped to all the wrong conclusions," he soothes, "Can we start over please?"
"No. I think we've both said enough."
"Jane, don't do this," he cajoles, "It was a stupid fight. Let's put it behind us and move on."
I reach over to pull open the door to my bedroom, my expression stony with resignation. "Maybe you should go."
We are still locked in a silent battle of wills with Rafael refusing to go and me fully prepared to kick him out on his ass when my mother suddenly pops her head through my open door. She had agreed to meet me at Abuela's today to help me with the remainder of my packing but had gotten distracted from the work a long time ago. Up until this moment, I thought she had been taking a nap but when I glimpse her harried expression, I'm pretty sure she's gotten an earful this whole time while Rafael and I argued. Her next words confirm my suspicions.
"If you two are finished yelling at each other, I thought you'd want to know that Michael is here to take Mateo now."
"Great!" Rafael snaps, "Michael's here. Let's go say hello."
"I'll say hello to him. I believe you were leaving!"
Mom wisely decides to excuse herself at that point. "I'll let him know you're on your way."
We both manage a façade of civility before we step out into Abuela's living room, which is a feat for me considering the fact I am fuming over Rafael's refusal to leave the house. Michael and Mateo are in the middle of loudly hyping themselves up when we arrive. I can't help but smile a little at the adorable picture they make right then. It feels like a snapshot of the future we would have had together…the future we should have had.
"Are you ready to go camping?" Michael asks Mateo in a playful growl.
"I'm ready to go camping," Mateo growls back, "Are you ready to go camping?"
"So ready to go camping! How ready to go camping, are you?"
"So ready to go-,"
"—Okay, okay!" Rafael bites out in sharp irritation, bringing an abrupt halt to their game, "We get it. You're excited to go camping."
Michael immediately straightens then, all playfulness vanished from his amiable features when he sees Rafael. They exchange tight smiles of greeting but Mateo, thankfully, remains relatively oblivious to the tension. I, however, am extremely aware and I have to check the impulse to get the hell out of there. It's suddenly like wild kingdom in my Abuela's living room and the predatory males are squaring off for territory. I wonder vaguely if that "territory" is me and Mateo.
"Sorry, Daddy," Mateo says brightly, "That's just a game Michael and me play. We didn't mean to be so loud."
"Well, you're excited, buddy," Rafael concedes with a tender smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "It's okay to be loud."
His neutral reply does little to diffuse the crackling disharmony in the room. So I'm not at all surprised when Michael tries to rush Mateo out of there. "You got all your gear together, bud?" he asks, already inspecting Mateo's pack, "We really need to get a move on."
"That six weeks of yours is winding down pretty quick, isn't it?" Rafael observes as Michael helps Mateo gather his gear, "You'll be heading back to Houston soon, right?"
Michael spares him a cursory glance. "I'm actually thinking about staying longer. Got a job and everything."
I wisely bite back my smile at the admission, which is a good thing because Rafael scowls darkly. "Why am I not surprised?" he mutters.
"Well, my family does live here so…"
"But your girlfriend lives in Texas," Rafael reminds him, "Or have you forgotten all about her?"
I snap out his name in frosty reprimand but attempt to cover my anger with an artificial smile for Mateo's sake. "Rafael, don't be rude. Michael's girlfriend is none of our business."
Mateo, however, doesn't agree with that statement. Completely ignoring everything I just said to his father, he whips around to face Michael with a gleeful giggle. "You have a girlfriend?"
"She's my friend," Michael emphasizes, "Not my girlfriend." I don't know if I imagine it or if he actually does glance surreptitiously in my direction when he says that.
"What's her name?" Mateo wants to know.
"Lorena."
"Do you have a picture of her? I want to see!"
Michael gamely pulls out his cellphone and scrolls through the gallery for the requested photo. When he finds what he wants, he stoops down to show Mateo. "This is Lorena."
I watch Mateo's reaction, noting the enamored flare of his eyes. "Wow! She's so pretty."
"Yeah," Michael sighs in agreement, "She is really pretty."
I'm still struggling to decide how the softness in his tone makes me feels and whether I like it or not when Mateo exclaims, "She looks like you, Mommy!"
Michael glances back at his phone with a surprised frown. "Does she? I never noticed before."
"And somehow the resemblance doesn't surprise me either," Rafael interjects dryly, "You've always been preoccupied with all things Jane, haven't you, Michael? I guess not even losing your memory can change that."
"Maybe you two should get a move on," I urge, wanting them to get out of there before the atmosphere deteriorates further.
That's all the incentive Mateo needs. "Okay, Mommy! Bye!" He waves and then grabs hold of Michael's hand. "See you later. I hope you have fun with Daddy even though I wish you were going camping with us."
At that precise moment, so do I. The instant the idea occurs to me I'm acting on it. I call out for Michael and Mateo to wait just as they start to step out the door. Michael turns back to regard me with an expectant expression. "Did we forget something?"
"Yes. Me," I reply impulsively, "I've decided to come with you after all."
"Yay!" "You're going to what?" Mateo and Michael burst out simultaneously.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rafael follows up with barely contained annoyance, "You're being ridiculous right now."
"Weren't you leaving?" I snark before glancing back at Michael. "Just give me a few minutes to get packed."
Michael grimaces and I can tell by his expression that he senses the coming cataclysm and doesn't want any part of it. "I don't understand. Why are you coming with us? I thought you hated camping."
"It's the perfect opportunity for me to spend some quality time with two of my most favorite people in the world," I reply breezily, "I think it'll be fun."
Rafael emits a scornful snort which prompts Michael to dart a wary look over at him and then back to me. The unrestrained antagonism between me and Rafael is almost tangible thing. It's practically combustible. A person would have to be completely oblivious not to sense it and the one thing Michael Cordero has never been is oblivious. Memory loss hasn't dulled his instincts at all. Clearly, he knows that disaster is looming.
Despite that, he surprises me by saying, "Well, if you're sure you want to…"
I glare at Rafael coldly as I reply, "I'm positive."
As I turn to leave the room, however, Rafael calls to my back, "You know what, Jane?" I stop in my tracks and pivot to face him with a bored expression. "I think you have the right idea. I'd like to spend some quality time with my two most favorite people too."
Michael is alerted to the impending train wreck almost instantly. "Wait. What's happening?" he asks, his voice cracking with panic, "What are you doing, Solano?"
Rafael's mouth curls in a feline smile. "Let's make it a foursome. I'd like to get in on this little camping trip too. Like Jane said…it will be fun."
The last thing I hear before the blood begins pounding in my ears is Mateo's excited shouts of, "Hooray!"
