“How’s it feel to know your life is about to end by the man you were supposed to kill?”
She shook her head back and forth. “No, no, no, no, no,” she repeated, looking me dead in the eyes. “I was never going to kill you. I swear it!”
“To know that the woman I made my wife is nothing but a fucking traitor? Now, that…” I kissed her. “That I didn’t see coming.”
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… but I love you! I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you! I was just supposed to be a mole in your life for a few months! The U.S. wanted to take down Emilio, not you! But they knew that you were the way to him! They promised me they would send me to America in exchange for any information I could provide! I just wanted to get the fuck out of Cuba! This bullshit communist country that took my parents’ lives!”
“So was anything you told me the truth? Or was it all a bunch of bullshit lies? Starting with your ‘I love you’s’.”
“I was never going to kill you! I promise!”
“Your promises mean shit to me. Exactly the same way you now do.”
She shut her eyes, she had to. The pain of my words taking her under.
“I thought I met the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with. You. Someone who understood me, never judged me. It all makes sense now. How you always wanted to know about my day, that it never mattered the lives I took, the sins I’d pay. You were already in Hell before me. All you wanted was information on Emilio, that’s why you stood the fuck by my side, no matter what. I let you in, Evita. In my life. My home. My bed. My fucking heart!” I snarled, unable to go on with this charade of blatant treachery any longer. Shoving the end of my gun harder into her heart. “You’re nothing but a lying cunt!”
“Damien, please… I’m begging you… please…”
I kissed her one last time, needing to remember her just this way before backing away, keeping the aim of my gun over her heart. I ordered, “Get on your fucking knees.”
She didn’t. Her body was shaking profusely, unable to breathe.
To think.
To move.
“NOW!”
Placing her hands in the air out in front of her, as if that was going to make one bit of difference. She listened, sliding to the ground onto her knees in front of me.
“You can’t judge a sinner by one sin alone, and I’ve sinned enough to reap what I sow. You know what I do to people who betray me, fucking traitors… it’s who I am. It’s all I know,” I firmly stated, tears forming in my eyes. “For better or for worse, right, baby?”
Evita. Knew. Me.
She should’ve known better.
“Damien, I lov—” I cocked my gun back, and her eyes widened in panic, fear, understanding.
“You know, I always preferred the till death do us part.”
And with that… I didn’t hesitate in pulling the trigger. Ending the life of another fucking traitor, except the only difference was…
This one was my wife.
I drove my car down the winding roads in a vacant state. My body was stiff, my face showed no emotion, and I felt absolutely fucking nothing. I’d been like this for the last six months, moving on autopilot. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept for more than an hour or two. My mind wouldn’t stop reeling, playing out my entire fucking life every time I closed my eyes.
It was a whirlwind of emotions.
A catalyst of memories.
An unrelenting nightmare I was living in broad daylight.
Despite my numb state, I was still able to graduate at the top of my class and early from law school. It was the only thing that kept me going. I drowned myself in school work, classes, and Emilio. Going as far as picking up some extra shifts at the prison to take out my frustrations through torturous acts. Dreadfully trying to get through the days and nights. Knowing nothing would change. Tomorrow would be the same as the day before. They were all on constant repeat, even though I was going forward in time. I tried not to think about Evita, mindful that everything she had ever told me was yet another fucking lie. I couldn’t stand seeing, feeling, or smelling her presence around my apartment. I took care of the issue the only way I saw fit. I fucking burned her belongings.
The one woman I actually allowed into my real life, ended up being like the rest of them.
Another goddamn traitor.
Maybe it was my karma for all the lives I’d taken and the one heart I’d broken. Over and over again. Rosarío and Emilio were the only two people who knew the truth about Evita’s untimely demise. There was no getting around the truth; it was what it was.
No fucking regrets.
I did what I had to do.
As always, Rosarío provided the support I needed, being the only mother I’d ever known. Emilio, on the other hand, patted my back and laughed it off. Saying some shit about all women being lying whores.
Amira tried to reach out to me after Evita’s death a few times. I assumed Rosarío told her one thing or another, but never the truth. She left me countless messages that went unreturned but not unheard. I’d often sit out on the balcony and replay them just to hear her sweet voice that always brought me comfort in her absence and in my time of need. I tried like hell to not go to her. The last thing I wanted was for Amira to think she was my rebound. She didn’t deserve all this fucked-up shit, she never asked for it. She certainly wouldn’t give a shit about the fucking birthday present I was about to deliver.
But I did.
As much as I wished I didn’t, I cared. A lot. I had missed her last few birthdays, and it almost crushed me not being there for all her important days. I spent her last birthday with Evita in my bed and Amira on my mind. I wasn’t about to miss this one too. I just needed to see her face, wish her a happy birthday, and talk to her for a few minutes, if she would allow it. Those were my only intentions and expectations as I drove over to Rosarío’s house, feeling a sense of something I couldn’t even explain or begin to understand.
Maybe it was the feeling of going home.
Then again, it could have just been Amira. The only person on the entire planet that could physically bring me to my fucking knees with as little as a look.
I didn’t deserve her.
I never asked for her.
I couldn’t have been more grateful to have her.
Amira didn’t deserve me either, but no amount of training could ever condition her out of my life. I’d conformed to a lot of things I wasn’t proud of, but Amira would never be one of them. She had always been my refuge from the chaos going on in my daily life.
She was the exception.
She was my exception.
Deep down I was hoping she wouldn’t be home, but even deeper than that, I prayed she was. My heart sped up a few extra beats when I stepped out of my car. Once again, I thought about how unprepared I was to actually see her. It felt like a lifetime had passed since we had talked, over a year and a half ago. This was the longest span of time I’d ever gone without her. My adrenaline pumped wildly through my veins with each step that brought me closer to the entrance.