A lie so dangerous and fragile

CHAPTER FOUR

Serene

THREE YEARS AGO

The hotel was busy when I arrived to book a suite. I had managed to sleep through the rest of the flight after crying my eyes out in the restroom. The bellman gave me a big smile as he helped me with my luggage. I wasn't surprised at how busy the place was. The hotel was closest to many tourist centers and had good reviews online.

I stayed at a corner and kept my face down as we rode the elevator. I whispered, "Thanks," to the bellman when we got to the suite.

"Enjoy your stay," he said with a thick Cuban accent and left.

I shut the door and looked around the suite. It was worth the money. The king-size bed was dressed in snow-white sheets, and many pillows that would end up on the floor. A small living room stood across from it. I walked to the dining room that was next to the kitchen. I doubted I would be making use of it.

I took off my jacket and tossed it on the bed. I stretched my arms as I walked to the sliding doors leading to the balcony. I opened the door and stepped out, and warm air whipped my face. I walked to the railing and leaned on it, watching the moon cast a white glow on the ocean a few feet from here.

I didn't know how long I planned on staying here or what to expect from now on. The place was beautiful, but I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it. How long could I hide? I didn't want to think about the pregnancy. I'd managed to block it out of my head and pretend it wasn't real.

I stayed outside for a few minutes, staring at the people on the beach who were having fun, laughing, and smiling, like life wasn't full of shit. I envied their happiness. When would I feel like that again?

The ache in my heart returned, and a wave of deep anger and resentment followed. I felt a strong grip on my windpipe. I walked back into the room and shut the door. I dragged the drapes back together and walked to the bed.

I searched for my phone and found it in the pocket of my jacket. I hesitated from calling Belvina. I needed someone to talk to, someone to listen without me feeling like a burden. I sniffled and dialed her number. Every ring tempted me to cut the call and deal with my issues alone, but she answered.

"How was your flight? Are you at the hotel? How is the place? Are you liking it?" she rambled.

I smiled and wiped my tears away. I tried my best to sound okay. "It was fine. I just arrived at the hotel, and it looks amazing."

"I'm calling on FaceTime. I want a tour," she said quickly. I could hear her flipping pages in a book. She was probably doing schoolwork.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm so tired and jet-lagged."

"Fine," she sighed. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"I will send you a list of Cuban food to try out."

"That would be great. You're the best."

"You're gonna be fine, Chlo. Just try to relax and have the time of your life. I know it's not gonna be easy, but I'm rooting for you. Try doing something you love. If you need someone to cry to or yell at, call me. I don't care if it's three in the morning."

I tried to cry silently but failed.

"Don't cry, please."

"Thank you." I sniffled.

"I'm not hanging up till you stop crying."

"I have stopped." I laughed.

"Okay, buenas noches. I have an essay to do before going to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Sure. Good night."

"Love you."

"Love you more." I smiled and ended the call.

I lay there for a while, staring blankly at the wall, like it held every cure to my pain. I stood up and undressed. I walked past my suitcases with no intention of unpacking them. I entered the large bathroom with its sparkling marble floor and walked to the shower.

I broke down as every memory of Tristan flashed in front of me.

Iscreamed, clutching my arms around myself. The shower and thick glass wallsblocked