"Cuando estés por esas calles, te recordarás de mí."

LOS MESONEROS | TE LO ADVERTÍ

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o c t a v i o

I couldn't fucking believe this.

In front of my very own eyes was someone that you don't usually think you'd ever have to meet. Someone who couldn't possibly have had empathy.

There she was, the unnamed other woman. Somewhere in my mind, I would have liked to imagine that she was malicious, conniving with a wicked whiteboard where she'd have an evil laugh and a white rabbit with red eyes as she plotted to ruin my relationship.

I was wrong.

A curtain of butter blonde hair hung around her shoulders, falling in soft waves that accentuated the sea-foam of her round eyes and the roundness of her face. She wasn't like anything I was expecting, and that kinda sucked.

A lump lodged itself in my throat, and I rubbed the rings on my fingers. Mariana had told me to meet her at Corner Bakery, an artisan café, and even though I was initially hesitant on the idea of seeing her again, a part of me hoped this would be the meeting where I'd get what I deserved. Closure.

Lights hung overhead on wooden ropes, illuminating a mural painted on the brick wall of the entrance and the colored mismatched cutlery.

"Mierda," I murmured, rolling my eyes. I could have turned around right now and left. Luckily for them, I was too lazy, and the aroma of freshly baked lasagna was enough to entice me to stay, at least for now.

"You made it!" Mariana's pink lips curled into a smile, and she tied her long brown hair back. The pitch of her voice was enough to irritate me.

Could she have been any faker?

The woman sitting next to her wasn't any older than twenty-four. The blonde's eyes brightened, and a cheeky grin stretched across her face. As confused as I was, I wasn't going to act like an asshole—at least not openly.

"Octavio, this is Sienna. Sienna, this is Octavio." Mariana palmed her hands together.

Just because I couldn't stand, Mariana didn't mean I was going to abandon all of my morals and manners. I shook Sienna's dainty hand and sat back down.

"Wow, it's so lovely to meet you. You're no longer just a figment of my imagination," Sienna said through a thick British accent.

Lovely? Why was she so excited to meet me?

"Right," I said, attempting to wear the most polite smile I could. Leaning back into my chair, I felt Mariana's eyes on me, watching me move with unexplained vigilance. Eventually, I glanced at her back, hoping that my eyes would translate the fact that I still didn't know what I was here for. 

When Sienna turned to the window to admire the panoramic view of SoHo, I looked back at Mariana and shrugged.

"So, we already ordered a few tapas," Mariana said. "We were going to wait for you, but you were late as usual."

"Oh yeah, whoops," I deadpanned. Did she ever think in her fucking little head of hers that I would care about being on time to meet the girl that cheated on me?

"Mari is also often tardy, sometimes I give her an earlier time just so she can arrive on the actual time," Sienna said, shooting her girlfriend an unimpressed look.

"Oh come on, I'm not that late," Mariana defended.

Unresponsive, I looked around the room, wanting to be anywhere else but here. Words couldn't articulate in my mouth.

An old woman approached the table with a notepad in hand. Her white hair had a purple tinge to it, and her lips painted red.

"—Sorry, sir, do you want anything? A beer?" The waitress's voice cut through my intrusive thoughts.

I blinked hard and gazed at her briefly. "Oh yeah, sorry, um, can I have your strongest beer?"

Confused, but silent, the waitress simply nodded before retreating to the bar. I ran my hands over my face and the back of my neck. I had utterly lost all of my appetite. Sienna excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Mariana and me alone.

The tension was palpable and suffocating almost. I avoided her eyes because somehow I thought if I looked too close, she'd turn me to stone.

"Mariana, what am I doing here? What exactly did you think you would gain introducing me to the woman you slept with while we were dating?" I seethed.

"She isn't just a 'woman' Octavio. She has a name, and you're never going to understand," she said with a dismissive sigh.

My brows knit together, and my eyes narrowed. "Understand what? What am I supposed to understand? Sorry if I'm not in the mood to play Breakfast at Tiffany's with you two."

"I want you to meet her so you can try to understand that what happened between us, what happened when I was with Sienna, had nothing to do with you. It wasn't about you, and it was about—"

"You. It's always about you," I interrupted.

"Try to understand where I'm coming from—do you think it was easy for me to come out of the closet and face my parents, old and deeply Catholic Latinos responding to homosexuality, Octavio."

"Don't use that as an excuse to be a liar. You can love who you want to love without screwing other people over."

The table went quiet as Sienna returned to her seat. I didn't want to be quiet, in fact, there were a thousand ineffable feelings that I wanted to voice.

"I just wanted to thank you," Sienna blurted. Caught off guard, Mariana looked at Sienna with half-lidded eyes. "Honestly, if Mariana didn't have a friend like you, we'd never—I guess—be together," she admitted with a hopeful smile.

"What?" I narrowed his eyes and clenched my jaw, hard. "Friend?"

Mariana released a brief panicked sigh and grabbed Sienna's hand. "Sienna, why don't we leave that for another time. He gets it—"

It seemed as though Sienna didn't hear Mariana's subtle attempt at changing the subject. Instead, her eyes focused on me. "Well yeah, you don't find many people willing to pretend to be someone's boyfriend for their homophobic parents...that's a lifelong friend," she explained with a simper.

Mariana's lips parted, and she cast her eyes to the ground.

"Pretend?" My voice was almost a whisper. It was like every thought, every memory of our 'relationship' months ago was a complete train wreck? I couldn't even believe what she was insinuating. Either Mariana had lied to Sienna, or this was more fucked up than I ever thought it could be.

My body screamed, urging me to pick up a cigarette — just one more. It whispered empty promises to get rid of the stress, to relax my muscles, and to set my mind to rest about the whole thing. Nothing good ever happens when Mariana's around. How was I supposed to cut the poison if it just kept growing?

"Well yeah, that's what it was, no?" Sienna rolled the sleeves of her pale blue blouse, and her eyes were wide, puzzled.

A humorless laugh escaped my lips. I rubbed my face, using every last brain cell to try to comprehend what the fuck was going on here.

The waitress returned with the drinks and a platter of small pastries that the women ordered. The table was coated in a thick layer of silence. Sienna's green eyes were on me, waiting for a response—but I was looking for the nearest exit.

Bravo, Octavio. I let Mariana embarrass me again. I could go about this two ways: express my anger or be the bigger person while I still had the chance.

I thanked the waitress with the most deprecating smile I could muster and took a long swing of my beer.

"Thanks, for whatever this is...but I just realized that I have an art model coming tomorrow and I need to get a few things done," I lied. "This should cover lunch." I dropped seventy dollars onto the table.

Mariana scrunched her face together, disappointed. While Sienna's curiosity had only heightened by the looks of her flared nostrils and parted lips.

A weight alleviated off my chest when I exited the cafe's doors and immersed myself in the bustling streets of New York. It was the first time the weather wasn't bitter cold or rainy, and people had taken to the streets to take advantage of it.

Nine years ago, I barely knew how to get around. The dense city was a stark contrast to Buenos Aires, but upon my arrival, I had wanted nothing more but to learn the story the streets told. Every day from my dorm at NYU, I'd make sure to take different routes as I wanted to master the navigation of the subways, buses, and the avenues.

During one of my budgeted adventures, I had found a bodega in the corner of Soho near my apartment. To this day, it became the convenient store I gravitated towards when I had a midnight craving.

I didn't even realize I was walking in its direction until I stood at its threshold with my large hands buried into my pockets.

"Wait!" A yell cut through the air and met my ears. My head jerked to match the source of the sound. I was shocked to see Sienna hastening across the street, her blonde hair trailing behind her. She ran until she was panting in front of me with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Were you running after me this whole time?" I wondered.

She stopped in her tracks, puffing out breaths of air. Loose strands of hair streaked her flushed cheeks. "I just had to ask... I want to know something. Did you not know what I was talking about?"

I pulled my eyes away from her and pushed open the door of the bodega, stepping inside with swift strides. She followed behind me, her short heels resonating against the linoleum floor. Fluorescent lights flickered above us. The bodega wasn't in its best shape, but the colorful aisles quickly grabbed people's attention.

"No, I didn't...well don't. Why did you thank me for pretending? What exactly I was pretending to do?" I sounded more interrogatory than I expected. I directed my attention to the stocky, overweight man behind the counter. Picking a Marlboro pack, I purchased it with a complimentary lighter.

I noticed the way Sienna eyed the pack with judgment, so I shoved it into my pocket. We lingered near the counter, before being forced to move by an impatient woman behind us.

Sienna began to shake her head, almost like she was quivering. "But, Mariana sa—"

"Mariana's a liar. She lied to me for a full two years, and..." I cut myself off, realizing that maybe I shouldn't tell her.

I stepped outside and lit my cigarette. The smoke wrapped my lungs in a warm blanket. "Sorry, but I have to go."

I proceeded to start my way back, but Sienna grabbed my arm desperately, her eyes reddened with tears. "If she was lying to you, then she's been mugging me off too. Please, Octavio, I need to know...can we meet somewhere, another time?"

Mugging her off? I didn't understand what she meant by that. I didn't budge or say anything, but while my instinct nudged me to say no, the curiosity killed me.

"How about Wednesday?" I suggested.

Sienna reached into her purse and scribbled on a blank scrap of paper anxiously. "Here. Meet me at five."

She gave me one last longing look, one that told me that she actually might've loved Mariana. A wave of guilt rushed over me. Did I want to ruin that?

But before I could take it back, she was already gone.

And it was just me and my cancer stick.