NOTHING BUT A BAD TASTE. (✓)

26. HOMECOMING

( unedited ) 

"I WANT TO COME HOME," Ebén repeated, just in case, she had happened to miss his declaration. She hadn't—loud and clear she had heard him, but was rooted on the spot; unsure where to go or what to do. She had waited with baited breath, wondering when their hearts would be reconciled with each other, but never thought that today would be the day of days. 

Melancholy had her resigned to thinking that Ebén would never broach the subject and admit that he would be closing the door, given that he had been so dismissive of her previous attempts to reconcile. But, to her surprise, he had peeled her away from the piercing squeals to walk and talk about things. 

The first thing Maya noticed was his strapping scent—smelling like strong old spice that floated in the air and up her nostrils. She welcomed the smell, it was a taste she had sorely missed. Her gaze wandered and she noticed something shiny. Something gold. 

"As in, to me?" Maya corrected herself, "To us?" 

Ebén's brown pools looked at the pregnant woman squarely, unafraid to show his cards. "Yes," he muttered, "But... I don't trust you Bonita."

"Right," She understood—how could he trust her when she let the world tell him of her misdeeds? How could he trust her when she had been adamant that they were safe and secure in their bubble, when all it took was for her ex to ruffle a few of her feathers and she folded? How could trust that it would never happen again? The thing was that there was nothing that Maya could say that could claw back trust that had been completely shattered. All she could give him was her word; and even that couldn't cut it. "How can I get you to trust me, Eb? I'll do anything." 

"I don't want you to just do anythin. I just want this to work," said Ebén—but even he didn't know what that meant. The tiny voice at the back of his head was like a blare, telling him that the cut was just too deep and he needed to just cut his losses without wasting another second. But then, he'd be birthing another broken home arising out of their trauma, and that was no way to welcome their baby. Their baby girl. 

"I do too Eb," cracked Maya, her hand almost reach over to sooth his neck but she pulled it back in time. In doing so—she was reminded of the woman who had stood laughing gleefully in his doorway. She wanted to prod, poke and ask but her adultery had removed whatever entitlement she had to ask those questions, but her brain continued to wrack. 

Ebén allowed the fraught silence to replace his words, not wanting to speak from a vessel of anger but from understanding. The chamber where his heart was resting had been filled with so much ire for months, he was tired of lumping it across his back and was ready to offload. Maya, however, hated the continued silence—her brain bursting with each second wondering what his thoughts were.

"Did you ever not... want to marry me?" Ebén turned to face those mistful hazel green eyes, afraid of his question but even more afraid of the answer. 

"No, Ebén. Not at all," replied Maya, who felt a tightness in her uterus that almost made her sink to the ground. She took a minute; again—there was an instinctive pull to reach for his hand, but Maya had to force herself to remember that she had lost all rights.

"Why him? What did he give you that I didn't?" Ebén was now poking the bear, determined to part with the truth at very least, if they couldn't come a resolution. "That's the one thing I never got."

Maya didn't want Ebén to look at her like she was purposefully dodging his question, but she had an answer—she just knew it wasn't the right one. She did it out of comfort, here—represented a man who had a firm grip on her demons. And in a moment, torn between the past and the present, she chose what she had always known and to her detriment, it was the wrong choice. Maya finally answered the question after silent mulling. "I... don't know."

"You don't know?" 

"I do. I just don't think you're going to like my answer," said Maya, they were now peeling through deep layers that were bound to wash out her sin. 

"Try me."

"He's what I've always known and," Maya was trying to gauge the thoughtspace inside his brain by taking a glance at his eyes—but his brown pools were so dark, it was virtually impossible. "He was sayin' things that I waited years to hear, questioning us and our relationship and ultimately he got in my head."

"And was this before, or after the wedding?" 

"Before," Maya said regrettably. 

Ebén's head bobbed like a gnome, his mind processing every point of information that had just been said to him. He couldn't compete with this, he thought—and even if he wanted to, he respected himself more. But again, there was a baby caught in the middle of this, and that would be Ebén's motivation for whatever decision he arrived at. 

"Course you did," Ebén glumly licked his lips—the blocks were now falling into place. The cold glances, the terse responses, the constant swatting away of his hand whenever he ventured near her skin, everything now was starting to make sense. 

Ebén's frame immediately swivelled as he caught her faint whisper, "But I don't want him. I... want you."

"Maya, you kissed another breh. Pregnant with MY baby and you're tellin' me you want me?" Ebén's groused voice was loud, and Maya couldn't help but feel like effects of it after it swooshed into the air. 

"And I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Maya begged with everything; fighting for forgiveness. 

Ebén rolled his tongue against his top lip, "I know that you are. I just aint sure it's enough."

"What can I do? Please?" 

"Let's take it day by day," Ebén whispered, laying his cards out right in front of her, "My Abuelita always used to say that love is a choice, one you make every day. Whether you're going to look at that mountain, representing all your troubles, all your failings, all your mistakes and tell it move. Or, whether you're gonna give up and walk away. I said I weren't ever going to leave and I meant it, Bonita." 

"Oh, Ebén." Maya's round lips crashed into him, stirred so tight by her hormones.

Ebén said the last word and kissed her like she was the last person he would taste, "So glad to be home." 

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The end. 

Or is it?