Fools & Secrets ✔️

Trece

The Cygnus

Chapter 13

When Lisa was seven years old, she lived in a small village called Cudillero. She loved it there. She would chase chickens, watch over cows, and go to the beach whenever she wanted because it was so close. But most of all, she cherished the moments when her papa would give her a piggyback ride home, her limbs too exhausted to move from all the playing. As he walked, he would tell her stories, and since she always asked why the moon followed them, her papa would comment on how beautiful the stars were, especially the constellation Cygnus. It looked like a cross in the sky but was actually a swan, as her father explained.

He told her the tale of loyalty and devotion—a story about Cygnus diving into the river again and again to retrieve the body of his friend Phaethon. For a seven-year-old, the story was both beautiful and simple. Her father would metaphorically relate it to himself, saying that just like the swan, he would continuously dive for her in the water. But some memories stay only as they are; at the end of the day, while this may be her sweetest memory of her father, it is also the most heartbreaking story to tell, for what he promised her eventually turned into knives that stabbed her in the chest.

Now that she's twenty-five, it's funny how she views the swan as the fool of the century. Why did he continuously search for someone who was already dead? Why did he fearlessly dive into the unknown? What a fool Cygnus is, relentlessly searching for a lost loved one, unable to let go, clinging to the memory of what once was—such foolishness.

So much foolishness. She hates it. After all the denial and avoidance, she has become just like the swan, searching for answers or connections in places where they no longer exist. She feels trapped in a cycle of longing. Lisa loathes the swan because it mirrors her so closely.

She is too good for this world, carrying too much love, only to end up getting hurt the most. Her mom told her it was her kind heart that would lead her to her demise, and now Lisa can see her mother's point.

That's why her mother was strict and firm with her; it was her way of protecting her.

And now that she has opened her heart to someone, it feels like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the next pain to haunt her. "Niki, why is pain inevitable?" she asked her cousin, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes remained locked on the twinkling stars. They were nestled in the gazebo, their backs pressed against the soft picnic blanket, the gentle rustle of leaves above them creating a serene backdrop. After an exhausting day of family interactions and feasting, they could hardly move, the weight of their full bellies and the light buzz of alcohol swirling in their systems.

Reggaeton and salsa played softly in the background, the rhythmic beats a lively contrast to their introspective moment. Niki shifted her head, her smooth dark ebony hair brushing against Lisa's arm as she turned to face her cousin. "Probably to keep balance? Like yin and yang," she suggested, her tone thoughtful, as she gazed up at the constellation-studded sky.

"Was it hard?" Lisa pressed, her brows furrowing slightly in contemplation.

"What's hard?" Niki asked, tilting her head, curiosity dancing in her dark hazel eyes.

"To keep choosing to love every day, even on your worst days, through your fears and losses," Lisa replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability, her fingers nervously tracing the outline of the blanket.

"I had to," Niki replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It became a habit—instinctual, like you just have to assume the best because you love." She met Lisa's gaze, her expression earnest, as if trying to impart a secret knowledge.