Runaway Bride

Tatiana Magghio

I see Darío standing in front of me. He looks tired. It is incredible how the human body can reflect so many feelings in a matter of hours. I wasn’t gone for long, but long enough to be able to understand and accept what I have to do. My hands sweat, nervous. I am scared and anxious. The situation I am facing is not ideal. His words sank into my brain, driving it crazy, as I listened to each of his accusations. The only one that got to me was the fact that he compared his ex-wife to me.

I am not like her and never will be.

“Tatiana...” he calls out to me. I can see he intends to approach.

I can’t help but feel awful about the way I am right now. I want to hit him. I want him to understand that he offended me. With his words, he questioned my honesty and made a dent in my heart.

“No, you will listen. You will listen to everything I have to say. But, then, if you feel you must tell me something, you will.”

“I accept that. You are hurt, and believe me when I tell you that...”

“Didn’t you hear?” I stroll, approach him, and try to control my nerves. “Don’t say anything, don’t say anything because I’m weak, because you haven’t given me a chance to know you and get to know me yet. You don’t know that when I’m sad or hurt, if you interrupt me, I break down and start crying.”

“I don’t want you to cry. I don’t mean to hurt you. If you would just listen to me for a second...”

“Sit down.” It’s not a request. I position myself behind his chair and put my hands on his shoulders. “I got you. Just sit down and listen to me.”

I step out from behind the chair. My footsteps, though slow and precise, echo over the floor. The sandals that were not even supposed to sound, with every step, every tap of my heel, of my toes on the tile, clang as if they were a drum. Apparently, my heart beat so fast, all the sounds intensified. It was the feeling of being haunted, perhaps by my own demons, because I didn’t want him to misinterpret my words, or maybe because it depended on whether our relationship could work. I sit down across from him, pull up a chair, and arrange my legs. Our knees almost touch softly. His warmth tickles me. Knowing he can’t see me and having knowledge about how destroyed I am by how the special moment we were finally going to have after we were married was all ruined by his mistrust.

“I didn’t sleep with Dawson. I didn’t, and I won’t. I have no other way to tell you and for you to understand, nor do I intend to sound innocent or weak. I know I’m not versed in these relationship issues, but I want you to know that I would never betray you.” I take a breath. I see that he has his hands clasped and that his eyes focus on me even though he can’t see me.

His blindness doesn’t make me uncomfortable or bother me. I don’t feel sorry for him. I really don’t. From what little he let me notice and what others talk about him, I know that he is not a wimp, and he is tough. He is brave. The simple fact that he decided to take care of his son after his wife’s death says more about him than any resume. He is strong and will have my admiration forever.

“You were with me the night before our wedding,” I continue, but this time my voice betrays me, and my eyes water. Finally, I throat clear to regain control, but in vain. “You called me dragonfly. Your dragonfly. You loved me and made love to me. I came virgin to your arms.”

Darío purses his lips. For an instant, I come to believe he’s going to interrupt me to tell me it’s not true, but he stays still and doesn’t blink. He is there, in front of me, listening to me without objecting. He doesn’t look like the same man who, shirtless, in the middle of the bed, told me I had a sibling mix-up that night at the lake.

“It was you. I know it, I feel it, and I feel it when I listen to you. I would never mistake you for Dawson!” I make as much emphasis as I am capable of and as much as my sentimentality allows. I feel myself on the verge of an emotional breakdown. I fear to sob.

minutes without uttering anything because the lump in my throat won’t

silent. I chose the wallpaper when I decided to change the decoration of the matrimonial room, the

want to judge anyone, especially not at this point in

sarcastic voice in my

a coward, but I

know it may sound false to you, juvenile, but it’s the truth. Without seeing you, without knowing who you were, what you were

age has been hidden between beards and dark circles under his eyes, sad and droopy eyes, that hatred and resentment with the world. He let himself be

alike, as they are identical. However, Dawson has that carefree look. That calm and serene face. He also has that liveliness and impulsiveness that reminds me so much of my sister Teresa. Both brothers are the same age, but Darío

I’ve ever felt before. When you kiss me, and I feel you close, my heart beats so fast my breath catches.” I reach over, grab one of his hands and place it on my chest. “Do you feel that? That’s my heart wanting to burst out of my chest just having you in front of me. Sad? Pathetic? I don’t give a shit. I’m sick of not throwing myself, of not following what my heart wants, of being just another one of the bunch.” I remove the hand covering his. I can’t help but look at him, distressed and anxious. “Do what you want with that confession. I’m not going

my chest and his eyes on me, though he can’t see me.

telling me he hated me, and his tone would transport me back to that event on the lake in the moonlight. “I didn’t want to be like the other men in these towns; that sexist retrogrades who think they have the power to play and do with women as they wish. Fathers who sell their daughters as if they were property or real estate. Husbands who mistreat

and closed with the chair. Now both hands are on my neck. I close my eyes and enjoy his longed-for company. I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want to move

so tricky between couples? Between two people who, however obvious it may seem, are attracted to each other?

then I saw you. Just your silhouette. You mumbled something, and I loved your voice. You asked who was there and I didn’t know what

you came

approached any woman. Yet that night, for

he told me that night. “We met in

at the

day, you didn’t know anything. You left me in shock. But, then, hearing your voice again, my mystery man had a face, and coincidentally he was going to

no idea that my dream was real,

I reply,

I know.” He nods and strokes my cheeks with both hands. “David, my surgeon, confirmed that it’s possible to

possible? Well, we can see it’s

is silent, and for a second, I don’t think he’s going to continue. But, instead, he surprises me when

His presence itself is.

was closed to the idea of continuing my love life after Arianna died,” he moves a little closer, and I

“You...”

to forget you. I hate myself for not being able to see you right now. I’m sorry, Tatiana, I’m truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just that there are some things