Never Just Friends by Katerina Winters
Chapter 8
A gentle breeze swept over her shoulders, ruffling her curls around her face before passing over their table of food. Watching the flames of the candles stationed in the middle of their table gutter and bob, Maritzia looked up to Victor's waiting eyes.
An awkward tension twisted in her gut and Maritzia quickly looked back down at her grilled fish and vegetables, cutting another piece with her fork. Situated in the middle of their private terrace, the gauzy white curtains of their open bedroom fluttered in the night air as the pristine white linen tablecloth fluttered around their legs. The overwater bungalow Victor had booked was breathtaking. With amenities she had only ever seen in a magazine, the bungalow sat high off the crystal clear Caribbean Sea.
"It's so beautiful here isn't it?" She tried once again to break the mood that settled over him.
Giving her a non-committal noise of agreement, Victor took a bite of his food.
Maritzia wanted to scream or cry, she wasn’t sure, but she settled on taking her own bite of food, not tasting the flavor of any of it as her thoughts raced. It had only been a few days into the trip and she knew it wasn't going to work. Maybe it was because she had already come to the decision in her mind that night in her apartment. Maybe having that frame of mind, that first step to whatever the next chapter was, made it easier to see Victor's growing agitation and the dissatisfaction in his eyes as every little thing seemed to displease him.
When they first got to the airport and realized that they had the choice of waiting a few hours for the boat that would take them to the resort's private island or they could take a small Cessna immediately for an additional fee, she could see the frustration in Victor's eyes. He was a man that liked a plan. If things did not go according to expectation or deviated from the plan, he was unhappy. She knew he did not count on them starting their romantic trip having to wait a couple of hours for a boat. Knowing this she had offered to pay for the extra Cessna cost—that had been a mistake. She had seen her words, which were only meant as consideration and kindness, float between them skewing and forming into something else until anger flashed in his eyes. Snappishly he told her not to worry about it and paid for the private flight himself.
Guilt gnawed at her on the flight. Instead of looking out the plane's windows at the sparkling Caribbean Sea below, she had wondered if her offer had made him feel pressured in spending more than what he originally intended. She could've waited for the boat. She didn’t mind at all. But maybe her offering to pay made it seem otherwise.
Things didn’t get better from there.
Between them little things began to build up unseen and unheard in the background as they both tried to pretend they were happy. On their first day together, she wanted to lounge and enjoy their private bungalow. She had hoped they could stare out at the water in the overwater hammock, or lounge in their infinity plunge pool and finally open up. Maybe they could get back to a place where they used to be, she thought. Maybe they could both roll the weight of guilt and built-up resentment off their shoulders and truly start over again. Yet it was becoming apparent that wasn't going to happen. Where she wanted to relax and enjoy the spa-like amenities of the bungalow for a few days, Victor wanted to explore and join the resort's activities. He had wanted to stay up late and sleep in late, forcing her to abide by his schedule or risk getting another argument of her abandoning him while he slept. Nothing was working out between them.
Looking out at the dark ocean and the night sky, Maritzia felt the truth beat a slow war drum against her heart—this wasn't working and it never would.
~*~
"Hey, Cade," Officer Bilks called to him, leaning in the doorway of the detective's unit.
"What?" Cade barked angrily, not bothering to look at the man as he picked up a manila folder stuffed with papers and slammed it on a pile of other case files at the edge of his desk.
"Chief wants to see you," Bilks informed him, disappearing around the door's frame an escaping Cade’s glare.
Growling in annoyance, Cade sat back in his chair and stared at the empty desk across from him. He could feel the mildly curious stares of other detectives in the room as he glared at the empty chair in front of him. Looking at his computer, he frowned at the weather website he pulled up earlier. Sunny with highs of eighty degrees and lows of seventy-one for the remaining week in Jamaica, Cade could just imagine Ritz frolicking on the beach in her swimsuit with Victor. His body couldn’t decide if it wanted to be ill at the thought or settle into the familiar burn of violence.
Pushing angrily away from his desk, Cade walked out of the giant shared office and down the hall to the elevators. Within a few minutes, Cade was standing in Andres DeLeon's bright sun-filled office, staring down at the man's stony face.
Normally, Andres would demand that anyone standing on the other side of his desk take a seat, but today he allowed Cade to stand. Even seated and looking up, anyone would be able feel the rolling tide of authority the man held. Cade knew that just because of their positions, Andres DeLeon’s power was not in any way diminished.
Leaning back in his chair, the chief gave Cade an appraising look. "It's only been a few days since she left, and this is how you’re going to act? Like an angry petulant child stomping around the precinct and snapping at anyone that talks to you?" the chief finally asked.
Feeling extra petulant, Cade crossed his arms and stared down at the man. "Yep."
Nodding, Andres steepled his fingers and rested his chin at the top of his fingers. Looking out towards the window for a moment in consideration before flicking his gaze back to Cade. "Enlighten me. Are you angry she’s not by your side? Or are you angry she just might work things out with Victor and the pair come back stronger and happier in their relationship?" he asked casually.
Cade shot his chief a dark look. Both of those questions felt like hot pokers to the gut.
"I…" Cade opened his mouth to speak, but his words were lost as he thought of the questions. He couldn’t answer either one. He honestly didn't know. He didn’t want to wish ruin on Ritz's relationship; he loved her too much for that, even if he hated Victor with every cell in his body. "I don't know…I'm just pissed, okay?" He finally settled, swiping a hand angrily through his dry hair. Normally, he got up and took the time to run a bit of moisturizer through his dense curls, but today he didn’t see the point.
"Fine." Andres shrugged and sat back up straight at his desk, reaching for a pen as if resuming a task he had paused. "Be pissed, be angry even, but you will be professional to your co-workers," he gave Cade a warning look that brooked no argument.
Knowing the man was deadly serious, Cade nodded. "Yes, sir."
Andres's eyes softened for a moment and Cade thought the man was going to say something more, maybe something encouraging, but his chief's eyes hardened once more and he gestured to the door in clear dismissal. "You may go."
Feeling slightly disappointed, Cade turned towards the door. Just what in the hell his mother found so appealing about the hard-ass, he would never know.
~*~
Standing in front of the mirror, Cade lowered the free weight in his right arm, watching as his bicep stretched at the extension before curling his arm back up to watch the muscle bunch again.
The gym door creaked behind him and Cade looked up and saw Carlos's reflection in the large wall mirror as he walked into the police gym.
Not bothering to stop his workout, Cade switched to hammer curls, targeting his outer bicep. "How did you get in here?"
Carlos gave him an arrogant look as he came around to sit down on the empty weight bench next to him. "My uncle is the chief here, everyone knows me, and you're my roommate. I would be offended if I couldn’t get in," Carlos scoffed, looking around the empty gym with mild interest before getting up to saunter to the large windows looking down onto the street below. "Besides, I called Uncle and he told me you were still here," Carlos added, not bothering to look back at him.
Cade didn't say anything. He was too annoyed to speak right now, he had been for the past few days. Words were useless at this point. Nothing he said could change the fact that Maritzia was gone with that fucking piece of shit loser.
Realizing Cade had no intentions of speaking, Carlos sighed and turned from the window, coming back over to the empty weight bench to sit down with a groan. "So, this is what you're going to do until she comes back, huh? Work all day, sign up for overtime, and work out all night until you eventually give out…or you can no longer find shirts that fit."
Cade's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. Jokes about his too-tight shirts was something Maritzia had started with him. If it was her making the joke, he would grin and tell her that it was his sexiness that was making the shirts smaller or comment on her lustful gaze taking notice, but she wasn't here and Cade wasn't in the fucking mood.
Exasperated, Carlos stood up. "Oh my God, bro, are you serious right now? If you’re this mad then why don’t you stop fucking lying to yourself and just take her from that dipshit?"
Cade nearly dropped the dumbbell in his hand. Turning to look directly at Carlos instead of his reflection, Cade stared at him in shock.
"Don’t look at me like that. Hey, if he was with anybody else in my family I could possibly like the guy more, but I can't because he is with Ritz and I know she is fucking miserable trying to convince herself she loves him and not you. And you're just as fucking bad." Carlos waved a hand at him. "You sit here brooding while you watch some loser be with the woman you should've been with from jump."
Cade opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. All these words were forbidden, things he only ever dared to think never voice.
"You know, for a while, I loved that she was with him," Carlos sneered. "I loved watching you miserable as fuck staring at Ritz across the table like a kicked dog looking through the screen door as that stuck-up ex of yours stared at the side of your head with flames shooting out of her eyes. I was like, it serves him right. But fuck if Ritz isn't just as miserable and it’s all your fault. Do you know how hurt my parents were when you brought that woman back home with you? I couldn't even talk to you for about two weeks, and Ritz…well Ritz just jumped blindly into a relationship with that fucking pendejo."
Setting down the forgotten dumbbells in his hand with heavy clanks, Cade stepped back, his steps soundless on the matted floor. His heart was hammering in his chest to the point it made him feel sick. It was everything that played at the far recesses of his mind that he was too afraid to face directly. He couldn't—goddammit he shouldn't—but the words were out there now, floating around him, forcing him to make a decision. He could feel himself turning to the bright unbearable light of the truth and he knew he had no choice.
"Goddammit," his voice came out in a strangled whisper. "Goddammit, I know you're right," he whispered, pain etched into each word as he scrubbed his face with both hands and leaned back onto the mirrored wall. "I can’t live like this much longer."
"About fucking time," Carlos murmured. "I just hope for your sake that this little reconnecting trip of theirs doesn’t go to plan."
~*~
Lying in the hammock, Maritzia stared at the blue clear sky overhead. She watched as the bright wispy white clouds drifted past her. Flicking her finger against the paper in her hand, her heart tightened at the letter's contents. When the bright rays of the morning light pierced through the bungalow's curtains slowly waking Maritzia, she had to blink a few times to see that she was alone in the bed. Looking to the open bathroom door and a quick search on the large private balcony, and finally scanning through the room's closet Maritzia realized just how far the absence went. Finding the hotel's letterhead on the breakfast table, she had sat down at the edge of the bed to read Victor's note.
Shaking with an odd mixture of anger and disbelief, Maritzia had found her phone on the bedside table and with a few angry swipes had confirmed what the letter stated.
Crumpling the note between her fingers, Maritzia squinted up at the sky. Beneath her, the hammock was surprisingly comfortable as it suspended her over the cerulean waters beneath her bungalow. She could hear the water lapping against the sturdy wooden beams that held the structure. Turning over onto her stomach, she stared at the gray and dark green corals swaying gently under the water. Dark crusty barnacles crawled up the wet beams of her bungalow stopping perfectly at the water's edge and she wondered if the resort's workers were the cause of such perfection. Lying like that, with the rough net pressed partially against her face, Maritzia listened to the distant sounds of other couples laughing on the decks of their private bungalows. She let out a groan and closed her eyes.
Seven more days. She had seven more days in the couple paradise—alone. Victor's note explained that he paid for the booking upfront and that she may as well stay since it was non-refundable. The whirring vibration of her phone interrupted the serenity of the sparkling sun-drenched scene around her and the turmoil of her thoughts. Someone was calling her, again. Ever since she shakily confirmed Victor's words in the note and saw the new update of her Facebook relationship status, the calls and texts came flooding in. Ignoring the phone yet again, she hoped it would just vibrate itself dead.
So, this was it, huh? It was finally over. Turning back over on the hammock until she lay comfortably onto her back, she threw her forearm over her eyes to block out the brightness of the world. She had to hand it to Victor, she did not expect it to be this way. Maritzia had expected them to somehow make it through the remainder of the trip with forced smiles and maybe lots of the top-shelf alcohol their bungalow came stocked with until it was time to leave. She had pictured it perfectly to the last detail. They would have a quiet, if not tense flight back home and maybe last a couple of days in an odd quasi peacefulness back at her apartment before she finally announced to him that she "didn't see this working." By then she would have gone to the bank and dipped into her savings to provide him her half of this trip. She would not give him that ammo to use against her. Well, that's what she had thought, at least.
Sitting up abruptly she scowled at the dark teak flooring of the bungalow as she thought of his note. Spreading the crumpled paper with both hands she reread his words with growing anger.
"I feel like I'm fighting a war from both sides with you. Between your secret obsession with Cade and his for you, I feel like I'm losing a battle I should have never had to fight. I'm angry, Maritzia, angrier than I have ever been in my life and it doesn't feel like me. I never used to be like this. I'm tired of seeing the woman I love look at another man how she should be looking at me. I'm tired of feeling like an outsider in your family, no matter what I do. And I'm tired of watching Cade wait patiently for you to realize you’d rather be with him than me. I can't stick around for that. I don’t want to feel angry anymore.
I paid for this trip in advance so you may as well finish it. Just think of it as my last gift to you. I really do love you, Maritzia. I just wished you felt the same."
And for what felt like the hundredth time, tears formed at the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall. His words hurt. She didn't expect anything he had to say to hurt as much as this letter did. Heavy with guilt, she pulled herself up from the hammock and walked inside. Sitting on the unmade bed, she imagined Victor writing the note as she slept and gathering his bags. What did his face look like as he rolled his suitcase down the long wooden pier that led to the bungalows? Was the sun up? Did he have to wait long at the airport by himself?
Clutching the paper against her stomach, Maritzia fought off the tears. Why? Why did this hurt so badly, when this was essentially what she wanted?
"I'm free of his dissatisfaction," she whispered into the empty, airy room. "I won't have to feel like I have constantly failed him," she argued to the rising guilt in her chest.
But was he right? Did she truly make him feel that way? She had loved Victor—once. He had been her smiling knight in shining armor when they first met. Ever since she was a kid, she had always felt like one of the guys. Opting to wear basketball shorts and t-shirts most summers, the guys in her neighborhood either treated her like another guy, or, worse, saw right through her. Before college she was never on the receiving end of those intense enamored looks other girls got from guys. She had just stood awkwardly by as she watched the guys and girls of her neighborhood mature, the dynamics between them changing. Nothing changed for her, however. She was just the girl the guys all invited to hang out and shoot hoops with when their dates were over, their smooth smiles replaced with boyish ones and their charming personalities switched back to their mischievous playful ones. To them, she was just Ritz, the sister of Carlos and Luis. The forever frowning girl who played basketball better than most of them.
But that changed when she got into college. Meeting other girls on her basketball team, Maritzia had found her own unique style, a feminine but sporty style that made her feel strong and sexy. Ditching her basketball shorts and t-shirts for skinny jeans and tailored blouses, she had slowly transformed her appearance and her confidence. Slowly, she began to notice the interest in men's eyes when they looked at her and realized quickly it was not all that she made it seem growing up. It only took a few dates to realize that the attention she pined for when she looked at other girls was just an act. Guys only wanted to play games, hopping from girl to girl seeking one thing. It was only then she realized how sheltered from reality she had been growing up. Surrounded by the unassuming barricade of her brothers, cousins, and Cade. Only looking back now could she realize how subtle and unyielding their defense around her was. Maybe the looks she wished to have received were there. Maybe she had been too naïve to see them outright, but she bet Cade or Luis saw them. She could just imagine their open friendly gazes turning savage towards one of their many friends that tried to get close to her.
Eventually, their defense had weakened and she replaced it with her own. For years she kept men at a distance, looking for something within them she knew she would never find—not again, at least. When she had first met Victor, she had been a little mystified by the cheerful handsome man. Unlike other male officers, Victor wasn't filled with the fabricated sense of machismo that rippled over the precinct. Victor was plucky and confident and had nothing to prove. When friends of hers playfully teased her, recalling her old nickname in school "the bouncer" due to the muscular shoulders basketball had given her and her overall tough personality, Victor had been the only one to claim he couldn't see the accuracy of the name. When he looked at her, he saw her for not only who she was but everything she tried to be.
He had been her first real boyfriend and now—he was gone, because of her.
Throwing down the note, Maritzia flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the vaulted wooden ceiling, watching as the circling fan turned at a sleepy pace. She just never expected it to hurt so much. Shouldn't she be angry or relieved even? He left her! He left her here on the other side of the world. She should be infuriated! At the very least she should feel the weight that she had been carrying for weeks now slide off her chest. No more fights, no more walking on eggshells around his mood, no more dreading to come home. But instead of all that, all she felt was guilt. She didn't want to hurt him, not like his letter suggested. She had wanted them both to walk away and realize that though the decision was painful it was for the best.
Pulling up her legs until she was lying fully on the rumpled sheets, she grabbed the data-pad that came with the room off the nightstand. Typing in an order for food she instructed the staff to leave it in the kitchen of her bungalow. Segregated by a locking door, the bedroom and bathroom area were separate from the kitchen area that led to the front door giving the guest complete privacy as the staff picked up and dropped off food. Good, she thought. She had no intentions of leaving this room for the next seven days. Reaching for her phone, Maritzia purposely ignored the stacked messages waiting to be read and the numerous missed call icons. She needed time. She needed to be alone.
~*~
Cade was shaving when Carlos swung open the bathroom door. His eyes were wide and frantic and Cade stilled. His hand still holding the lathered razor inches above the water, he looked at Carlos.
"What?" His gut knotted in dread as his mind immediately jumped to images of Ritz, or his mother being hurt. But as he looked back into Carlos's eyes, he could see the frantic energy leaned towards shock more than fear.
"It's Victor," he whispered awe as he held out his phone to what looked like a Facebook post.
Scowling, Cade dropped the razor into the running water and turned fully to Carlos. "What about him?" he growled.
Still looking as if he had just witnessed a firework go off in front of his face, Carlos stepped closer and waved the phone in front of Cade. "Victor just announced that he broke up with Ritz. Fuck, man, I think that piece of shit left my sister in Jamaica."
Everything in Cade's mind went blank. As if Carlos had just hit the power switch on his brain. Standing there wearing only a pair of boxers and socks and with one half of his face shaved and the other half soapy, Cade blinked. After a second the switch flipped in his mind and he felt himself booting back to life. Walking out of the bathroom, Cade pushed past Carlos to the guest bedroom he had been using and found his phone in the sheets. Missed calls from his mother and Ritz's mother were clogging up the screen. Notifications from friends, coworkers, and the DeLeon family filled his Facebook profile. Checking Victor's account, his blood sang as he stared at the overly dramatic photo of luggage sitting by an airport window. "Time for a new chapter in my life," the caption read.
"This piece of shit," he whispered aloud as his fingers swiped furiously to Ritz's account.
Nothing.
His gut knotted as he swiped and tapped and opened up Instagram.
"She didn’t post anything on there, either," Carlos said from his door as Cade confirmed the account himself.
He was right. The last picture she had posted was of both of them smiling while they both held up puppies to their cheeks.
Clutching his phone in his fist, Cade turned and looked past Carlos as his thoughts raced. He was angry and elated at once. He wanted to kill Victor and hug his lifeless body at the same time.
With a plan formulating in his mind, he checked back to Victor's account just as the call notification of Francisco DeLeon came up on his phone. Ignoring Maritzia's dad, he checked the time on Victor's image before looking up to Carlos with a grin.
"I need you to do me a favor."