The Last Chicane

Guilty Conscience

I suddenly jolt awake to the sound of an alarm going off. I look at my phone. Noon. How had I slept half of the day away? Memories of what happened yesterday at work and of my panic attack when I got home surfaced. I always get super drained after a panic attack, so it didn't surprise me that I had slept in.  My flight wasn't until this evening, so I knew I wasn't running late or anything. I scroll through tiktok and Instagram looking at things to do in Monte Carlo. I didn't really have any plans, I just wanted to get away from reality for a while. Videos of the Monte Carlo Casino, the F1 track, Larvotto beach and a whole list of restaurants to try popped up on my feed. I didn't know anything about Formula 1 other than it was rich guys who drove around on race tacks, but it never really interested me so I never got into the sport. It was going to be too cold to go the the beach. I made a mental note to try to see the casino since the videos of it on tiktok are beautiful.

After scrolling through all of my social medias for an hour, I decided it was time to get up and face the day. Walking into my bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face. Pulling on my black running shorts and a turquoise sports bra, my "Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" tattoo in its dainty cursive writing on my left shoulder blade showing. It was covering up the scar that I would rather forget, but the memory of how I received it will forever be burned into my memory. Its translation meaning "I shall either find a way or make one." It was my favorite quote, but it was also my life motto. I had found the saying on Pinterest when I was a teenager, and I would say it to myself daily when I was growing up with my parents. I wasn't much of a tattoo person, but I needed to cover up the scar, in a desperate attempt to forget what had happened. I only had that tattoo and one other. "MORE" in all caps and in my own handwriting on the side of my right ring finger. My forever reminder that I was meant for more- more than my childhood trauma, more than what had happened to me that gave me that scar, more than "just a nurse". It was motivation and a reminder, one that I caught myself staring at frequently.

It was too hot in Houston to go running outside. Even in January, the humidity was ridiculous. Growing up I loved running outside, but as I got older it felt like it got more humid outside. Throwing on a pair of socks and lacing up my sneakers, I grabbed a bottle of water along with my keys and my headphones. I headed downstairs to the indoor gym and hopped on the treadmill. Running and music were my therapy, my escape from reality. I loved singing as well, but no one else knows that. My parents never allowed me to do anything extracurricular other than school. Henry and Lydia Rivers- a couple of the best lawyers in the country. They were ruthless in the court room and ruthless behind closed doors. I can still hear the conversation of when they disowned me after I told them that I was going to become a nurse instead of a following in their footsteps and becoming a lawyer.

Lost in my thoughts, my phone starts ringing through my AirPods. Tatum was calling. Probably just to check in on me and see what time I would be landing in Monaco. Tatum De la Cruz, my 23 year old cousin who is a big time model in Spain. Her mom and my dad are siblings. Tatum's dad was born and raised in Spain. He met my aunt when he was in America for a business meeting with my father. They all live in Spain, as my uncle Antonio owns the largest law firm there.

"Hola Blake! ¿A qué hora aterrizas en Mónaco? (Hey Blake! what time do you land in Monaco?)" Tatum and I switched between English and Spanish often. It always depended on what the conversation was and who all was around.

"Hola Tay. Debo aterrizar en Mónaco un poco después de la hora del almuerzo. ¿Qué estás haciendo? (Hey Tay. I should land in Monaco a little after lunch time. What are you doing?)" She always stayed so busy. We rarely got to see each other in person since she was so busy modeling and I worked full time at the hospital, so FaceTime has always been our best friend.

I finally stopped running on the treadmill. I looked down to see how long I had actually been running for and the screen showed 2.23 miles. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I picked up my phone so she could finally see me.

"How long have you been running? You look like shit." She grinned as she spoke in English. "You know you can't run from your problems right?" She knew about my panic attacks and that I always ran when I got super stressed. She also knew me well enough to know something was wrong.

"Yeah well... I had a bad shift at work yesterday" I replied. Tay always knew what that code phrase meant, that I had more than likely lost a patient. She suddenly stopped smiling, a concerned look now growing on her face. All I could do was stare back at her through the phone, staring into her hazel eye. The unsaid conversation between us as we locked eyes was enough for her to understand what had happened.

Tay was one of my most favorite people on the planet. We have been best friends since childhood. She always understood me just as well as I understood her. We were each others unpaid therapists, and we loved each other deeply. All of my deep dark secrets she knew about and it only made us grow even more close.

"I'm sorry B. But hey, you're off for 3 whole weeks now. You deserve this break." She said softly. She knew how guilty I felt after losing a patient. The guilt always got the best of me. I could hear muffled talking in the background.

"Where are you exactly right now?" Curiosity got the best of me. Behind her I could see she was walking down a busy street. "Are you in France? Everyone is speaking French around you." I opened the door to my apartment, threw my keys on the counter along with my headphones and plopped down on my couch.

"Uhh, about that," she started getting this weird look on her face and scratching the back of her head that was covered in auburn red hair. I stared her down for a minute waiting on her to finish explaining herself. "First of all, I hate how observant you are. Second of all, I really wanted to surprise you...but I kinda sorta have a modeling gig in Monte Carlo this coming week."

I took a second to process what she was saying. She was in Monte Carlo. I was fixing to be in Monte Carlo. We will be able to see each other, in person, for the first time in four years. We haven't seen each other in person since before the day I was disowned by my parents.

"TATUM DE LA CRUZ CUANDO ME IBAS A DECIR QUE TE IBA A VER?!"(TATUM DE LA CRUZ WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME I WAS GOING TO SEE YOU?!)" I shouted. I wasn't angry, even though she knows I hate surprises. I was thrilled. This vacation was sounding better and better.

We made plans to get dinner together the day after I land, knowing I will be jet lagged and will probably sleep all day when I get there. We finished talking and I hung up the phone. I could not wait to get to Monaco and start this vacation.