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2024-06-05 21:00:57Miyen and the Commodore escorted Silvia and Claudia almost to their plane seats on Tuesday noon, and only four hours later, they were at the Black Rock, having mate. Silvia was still pale and quiet, but insisted she was okay, and Claudia noticed she hardly checked her phone, as if she didn’t expect Jim to try to reach her, and didn’t want to contact him either.
And she didn’t want to. She didn’t need to.
Paola arrived an hour later, to let Claudia go to her house before her dog chewed the whole cottage down to splinters. Silvia’s own dog, that used to roam the streets and showed up only to eat, came with Paola and didn’t leave to walk Claudia home as he used to.
“I’m gonna get rid of you lot and be alone sooner or later,” Silvia said, a little amused. “What d’you think it’s gonna happen then?”
“You’re gonna text him,” Claudia and Paola replied right aw
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The soft glow of the nightstand lamp blinded Silvia for a moment. As soon as she was able to squint around, she swung the covers open and jumped out of bed, grunting and grumbling under her breath.One damned hour. She’d been turning and tossing in bed for a whole hour, unable to sleep, the idea of that video waiting for her corroding her brain.She washed her face with cold water and grabbed her earphones. A moment later, she was back in bed, resting against the headboard, tablet in hand. She breathed deep and played the video.The Chilean flags everywhere didn’t leave much doubt about where the video had been filmed. It was a small stadium, for about ten thousand people, and it was crowded to the brink of structural collapse.The stage was dark and empty, and people whistled and shouted and screamed for the band to come back. Then a beam like an airport searchlight pierced the air, blinding bright, straight to Jim’s vacant microphone,
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Silvia paused the video one more time, her heart beating in her throat instead of her aching chest. Tears played funny tricks to her eyes, painting a bright halo around Jim on the screen, turning him into a blinding figure in the reddish shadows of the stage, with that fevered and obedient crowd at his feet, looking up at him in adoration.She didn’t want to watch anymore.She didn’t want to listen to what came next.She didn’t want to hear him call out straight to her love. To know if she would still dare the gale, crawl out from under the rubble, walk through the ravaged ruins he’d left of her heart.She didn’t want to step into the eye of that hurricane he couldn’t rein in anymore, because it’d become the flame that kept him alive.And at the same time, it didn’t matter how many poetic arguments her survival instinct came up with to seduce her and hold her back. She knew she wouldn’t refuse.
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