Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,83

airport, and out to the car. The car ride home feels like it takes forever, and I know that Jordan wants to give me her opinion but I think she realizes that I’m not ready to hear it.

“He asked me to tell you to call him,” she finally says.

“I don’t know what he told you but whatever he said was a lie. You weren’t there.”

“Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there that I’m able to look at it without clouded judgment.”

“There’s nothing clouded about my judgment, alright? I walked in on them. I can’t talk about it right now. I just need to crawl into my bed and sleep for days.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she says, grabbing my hand. “The last thing I wanna do is make it harder for you. I’ll drop it. We can talk about it whenever you’re ready.” I may never be ready to talk about this. It’ll just be another part of my life that I bury deep in the back of my mind. It’s just another reason to reconstruct my armor, rebuild my walls and not ever let another person get close to me again. Maybe this time I’ll dye my hair red and get glasses and an even more conservative wardrobe. The only thing I know for sure is that I will never trust anyone again. I will never allow myself to love another man again.

When we get to my house I give Jordan a hug but decline her offer to come in and keep me company. I’d much rather be alone with my thoughts. I drop my purse on the table on my way upstairs not bothering to take out my phone. There’s no one in the world that I really want to talk to right now anyway. I’m sure Jordan will convey to the masses that I’ve arrived in one piece. I rummage through my medicine cabinet for anything that might help me get some sleep. I come up with a bottle of Nyquil. I take two teaspoons and pray that it’s enough to get me through the night. I throw on a pair of sweats and a tank top and flop down on my bed, finally allowing myself to let go and sob uncontrollably, eventually crying myself to sleep.

I wake up to the rays of the sun shining through my window. My entire body is sore. My eyes are burning from crying so much. It’s a reminder of what Victor did to me. It’s proof that it wasn’t just a bad dream. He was with Christina, and according to her, it wasn’t the first time. It’s an odd feeling when you realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you. That life goes on whether you partake in it or not. It’s like when you’re young and you stay home sick from school and you think that everyone and everything is frozen in time because you aren’t there. Then one day, you realize that’s not true. Life does go on. People go on and it hits me like a rock that he’ll go on. He’ll move on without me and he’ll still be beautiful, handsome, and charismatic. He’ll keep working, making millions of people smile, living an awesome life without me. I don’t know why I ever allowed myself to get swept away in his world. I should have known that it would never work out. That a relationship like this could only end badly. I had fooled myself into thinking that I would be enough for him, that I could be exactly what he needed. I’d known all along that getting involved with someone like him would be hard, that I would need to have a thick skin and an infinite amount of patience. I actually fooled myself into believing that I would be up for the task because he seemed so genuine. He made me feel like he wanted me so badly, as badly as I wanted him. When he looked at me with those big, brown eyes how could I not give in?

Just as I decide to spend the rest of my day in bed, Gavin barges into my room with a tray of pancakes and a cup of coffee.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here, Gav?” I bark out at him. Why the hell did I give him a key anyway?

“I’m here to make sure you’re okay and that you eat something,” he says, placing the tray on my lap.

“I appreciate your concern but really I’m not up for company. I