Page 10 of Inez

Lorenzo took over driving a while ago, and I took the opportunity to catch some sleep. I watch him through slitted eyes, not quite ready to admit to being awake just yet. His hat brim is pulled low against the blazing sun, mirrored aviators perched on his nose just beneath the curved brim. He hasn't shaved in who knows how long, his hard, angular jawline shadowed with the start of a beard. It suits him, though I prefer him clean-shaven.

He scratches that jawline, sniffs, rubs his nose. Adjusts his crotch.

I find myself wondering at his life, between escaping my father's enmity and me calling him for help.

Did he ever marry? Have a girlfriend? Or, like so many in his line of work, was he married to the job, the teams?

"You're awake," he murmurs. "Get some rest?"

Found out, I nod and sit up. “Yes."

He eyes me sidelong. "What?" he says. "You're looking at me like you want to ask me something."

I shrug. “Not really."

"Ask. I will answer, if I can."

I'm horribly uncomfortable with personal conversations like this. It invites questions. But this is Lorenzo, and he knows everything about me.

"Your life, after me," I start.

He nods. "What about it? I went into Spec Ops and then intelligence, and now I'm freelance."

"Not your work," I say. "Your…personal life."

"I didn't have much of one," he answers. "Drinks with my teammates. The occasional football game."

"Did you ever have…relationships?" I ask, the words stumbling and tumbling out of me awkwardly.

He glances at me. "Ahhhh. Well? Yes. I was no monk. I…there was someone, when I was stationed in Goiâna. Consuela. Sweet girl. Beautiful. Kind. Funny."

I feel a strange burn in the pit of my stomach at this news. "I see. What happened?"

A shrug. "I went on assignment, and when I came back, she'd moved out. Left me a letter telling me how to find her, if I ever wanted to settle down properly."

"You did not, obviously.” I can't look at him. The ache in my gut won't let me. I'm not sure what this sensation is, but I don't like it.

He shakes his head. "No. I never saw her again."

"Why not?"

He’s silent a long time. "Many reasons."

"Such as?"

He glances at me. "Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"The more I thought about things, the more I realized that it wasn't the job or the time away from her that drove us apart. It was…well, it was you."

I feel as if I've been punched in the stomach. "Me? How?"

"I couldn't commit to her. I couldn't…connect with her past a certain point. I was holding some part of myself back. Keeping a distance between us, emotionally. And even physically, in a way." He takes off his hat and plucks idly at the loose threads of the brim's ragged edge, driving with his knee for a moment or two.

"And what does that have to do with me, Ren?"

He frowns at me. "You don't get it?"