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The hot water makes me feel like a person again, but I’m still crying.
A moan comes from deep inside me as I sob. I’m having a tearful day. I hear the bathroom door open, and, through the screen, I see it’s Eric. For a few minutes, we stare at each other until he walks out of the bathroom and leaves me alone. I’m glad.
After I get out of the shower, I wrap myself up in a towel and dry my hair. Then I put on my pj’s and get into bed. I’m not hungry. Sleep quickly gets the best of me, and I wake up with a start when I notice someone touching me. It’s Eric.
“Leave me alone. I want to sleep,” I say. I’m still angry.
His hands move away from my waist, and I turn over.
27
In the morning, Eric is drinking coffee in the kitchen. Flyn is with him, and when I come in, they both look up.
“Good morning, Jude,” Eric says.
“Good morning,” I respond.
I don’t go up to him. I don’t give him a good-morning kiss. Flyn watches us. Simona quickly hands me my coffee, and I smile when I see she’s made me churros. Delighted, I thank her and sit down to eat. The kitchen is quiet as a tomb; I’m normally the one who tries to get a conversation going.
Eric just looks at me; I’m sure he doesn’t like my attitude, but I don’t care.
Norbert walks into the kitchen and tells Flyn to hurry up or he’ll be late for school. My phone rings. It’s Marta. I smile, stand up, and walk out of the kitchen. I go upstairs to my room.
“Hey, crazy girl!” I greet her.
Marta laughs.
“How are things going over there?”
I sigh and look out the window. “Fine. You know how it is, my dear! I feel like killing your brother.”
Marta laughs again.
“So, that means everything’s still good.”
After I talk to her for a while, she agrees to come by and pick me up. She wants me to go with her to do some shopping. When I close my phone and turn around, Eric’s behind me.
“Are you going to meet my sister?”
“Yes.”
I try to walk past him, but Eric reaches out his hand and stops me.
“Jude ... are you ever going to talk to me again?”
“I think I’m talking to you now.”
He grabs me around the waist.
“Listen, darling. About what happened yesterday ...”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You taught me to talk out our problems. You can’t change your mind now.”
“Well,” I answer cheekily, “for once, I’m going to be the one who doesn’t want to talk about our problems. I’m sick of it.”
“Darling, forgive me. Yesterday wasn’t a good day for me and ...”