"Getting chummy with the family, I see," he remarked bitingly.
He was purposely goading me.
"It's not like that at all." My insides boiled, ready to combust. "Stop twisting things just to make me look and feel more bad than I already do. You're being unfair!"
"I'm unfair?" he mockingly reiterated.
I swiftly stood up and began to pace the room, irritated beyond comprehension. "You know you are! I'm sorry, I am, but how long do I have to be in the doghouse until you're done punishing me?"
"Who the fuck knows! You think I like feeling shitty? Did you fucking expect that five weeks is enough to fucking get over what you've done? You fucking broke every-fucking-thing we have!" he screeched, making me flinch in return.
No, I didn't expect him to get over it. What I didn't anticipate was his indifference. We parted on such a high note. Before leaving the hotel for the airport, he had to pull me back in his arms several times because he couldn't get enough of kissing me. What the hell happened since Sweden?
"Like I said, Cara, if you betray me again, you're as good as dead to me," he stated in a hair-raising manner that left me breathless.
"River-"
"You up?" Willa's chirpy voice filtered in the background. "Oh, my gosh! How many times do I have to walk in on you naked!" she squealed, giggling with enthusiasm.
"I'm on a call. I'll be out in a bit," River crassly addressed her. "And for the love of God, woman, stop barging in my bedroom knowing I sleep bare!"
Really. This was just the last thing I needed to hear.
My body shook so badly I actually dropped my phone on the carpeted floor. Hot tears came next. Willa and a naked River. Was something going on? He wouldn't hurt me by sleeping with her, surely? He couldn't be that callous. He just couldn't be …
"Cara?"
I faintly heard him, so I reluctantly plucked the phone off the ground. He was breaking my heart. Slowly but surely, it broke.
Drastically wiping my tears away, I sniffed before placing the phone against my ear. "Yeah?" I tried to level my voice but failed miserably. It came out unsteady with a choking sound, as if I was withholding myself from crying.
"Okay," he said, brushing off the incident with Willa by not providing an apology or an explanation. "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?"
Everything.
Nothing.
"No, I think I've said what needed to be said." My tears were unstoppable. I silently sobbed as I shook my head, resenting him for his appalling, unapologetic demeanor.
There was a stretch of a pause before he finally spoke again. "Okay, well, have a safe trip, then."
"I will."
"Bye, Cara."
I didn't even care to respond; I just ended the call. All strength drained out of my body as my knees buckled, unceremoniously dropping to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I broke down, heaving, wailing, shaking, and howling with the wretched ache that seized me, painfully grieving for the man that had his foot out the door, biding his time until he finally walked away from me as he locked the door behind him, never looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was around six in the evening when I landed in Barcelona. Juana came to pick me up. She apparently rented a villa for the weekend. It was where her, her friends, and I would be staying until I left on Monday. The arrangement suited me fine. Last night's disastrous call had been plaguing my mind, so seeing Juana was a nice distraction.
Juana's first party was a family affair as she had previously warned me during a call last week. So, after the airport, we drove directly to their family apartment where Juan and I stayed before. Her friends apparently would be arriving soon, but her grandmother, parents, and a few of their family friends were already inside.
I felt like death, yet I somehow managed to muster up enough enthusiasm as I was being introduced to Juana's cheerful and overeager family and friends. They were welcoming and quite interested in my life's story. And since my past was bleak and downright depressing, I lied through my teeth and painted a happy life back home.
As the time went on, with more guests arriving, they apologized and dissipated slowly, welcoming the new arrivals. I didn't mind it. It gave me a short reprieve to gather my bearings..
"More wine?" Salvador, Juan and Juana's father, kindly poured more wine into my already half-filled glass.
I softly murmured my thanks. I noted that when you were asked if you want more wine, it didn't necessarily mean they were asking you if you wanted more or not. It was just a courtesy telling you that you were having more.