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Writer's pictureAlixx Black

Week 13: Feeling Low


One of the hardest things about being human is being vulnerable to anyone and anything. There’s no way to know when something will become a threat. Even with triggers, as you always point out, there are things that will upset us that never have in the past. I’m finding out that healing doesn’t have a set, linear path, just like you always tell us in Grief Group. I hate not knowing and I’m scared of this uncertainty.

 

-_~* Week 13 *~_-  

Leaving Caroline in the car is intentional. This will be a quick stop and there is no need to even have her waste her energy coming inside his home. In the past when he’s had friends over it had been a task convincing them that it was just a house. Still, many of them tiptoed around and treated his house like a museum. Santiago doesn’t really want to put the time into telling Caroline where everything is and making her feel comfortable enough to move around independently.

All he’s there to do is grab a few sweaters, some paperwork for the attorney’s office, and a couple of books he’s been meaning to read from his bedroom. There’s nothing special about his visit. It is just poor timing that Caroline is with him, what with her car being in the shop after the breaks went out while she was driving home. As a result, Santiago has been shuttling her around for the past few days, and it just happened that he was picking her up from work when he saw the email that his mother has two life insurance policies that were due for payment but the attorney doesn’t know who to contact. So Santiago has to get into his mother’s safe to see if the policy information is in one of her binders that he hasn’t turned over yet.

Santiago’s mind is on autopilot when he’s moving around the house, grabbing everything that he needs quickly and dropping it off in the kitchen whenever he passes by it. When he comes back down from his bedroom, though, he finds something extra on the counter that he’s not expecting: carry out containers from Laguna Gallery. The scent of fish and chips is thick.

Which means that Caroline is somewhere in the house…

“Caroline?” he shouts out for her, trying to see if she’s near enough to respond to him. When there’s no reply, he considers what would’ve brought her inside without sending him a text.

The most obvious answer is that she needed to go to the bathroom, so he goes to the one nearest to the kitchen, which is down the hall, opposite from the way he came from his bedroom. As he turns left in the hallway he nearly collides with her and she grabs at her chest in shock. “Where’s the bathroom that your mom used?”

“That’s a weird question,” Santiago mutters back, confused by the specificity in her query. At least, he’s confused until he realizes why she is probably asking, and then he leads Caroline through the house to the bathroom nearest to her home office.

It would’ve been too emotional to walk her to his parents’ bedroom, but he’s sure that his mother would’ve kept this other bathroom stocked with feminine supplies as well. Caroline checks when they get there and doesn’t come back out into the hall, so Santiago presumes that what she needs is inside. Even though he thinks Caroline could find her way back pretty easily, he waits patiently while playing a couple of games on his phone to pass the time.

When Caroline emerges from the bathroom she thanks him. “I also took a pain reliever while I was in there because my cramps are pretty bad already.”

“That’s fine,” Santiago assures passively, trying to get back to the kitchen as quickly as possible.

As they’re walking, without Caroline even asking, he decides that they should just eat while they’re here. The fish won’t set well for much longer, and if they hit any traffic on the way back to Caroline’s, then grabbing dinner will be a waste. “We should eat here while the food still tastes good,” he remarks immediately to avoid any awkward tension.

“Are you sure?” her question comes quickly and with her usual tone of concern.

Nodding his head, he grabs their food and drinks before escorting her to the living room where he used to eat with his parents during their movie nights. As they walk through the door, Santiago just ahead of Caroline by half a step, his stomach churns and he becomes suddenly sick to his stomach.

Ahead of him is a beautiful gray leather couch with matching armchairs on either side of the white coffee table in front of it. A rug his father had purchased in Mexico rests underneath the living room furniture set; the brilliant yellows and oranges standing out starkly against the plainness of everything else in the room; even Caroline’s festive red highlights don’t make an impact quite as strong.

Softly, Caroline compliments that room. “It’s simple but elegant. It’s definitely not what I would have expected looking at your house from the outside.”

“My parents were adamant about material possessions having a meaning or having a purpose. There’s not a thing in this house that doesn’t have a story or value to it.” This was only one of many family mottos that the Rivieras lived by, though it was one of the most important ones. More often than not, his mother could be heard reminding him that people are more important than things, which has always been difficult for Santiago to apply to his life, having the issues interacting with others that he often does, but he always uses this wisdom in his life in any way that he can – particularly when he’s with Caroline.

Echoing his mother’s sentiments, Caroline confirms that these are good values to have as wealthy people. “It keeps you level, I think. If it weren’t for all the money you spend on us, I wouldn’t have guessed that you come from money.”

“Hard earned money,” he reminds her gently. While his father was ‘white passing,’ his last name was still Riviera, which meant he had to work hard to stand out against others vying for the same jobs, projects, and roles. As for his mother, she had to pick and choose the battles she fought against sexism and racism just to get ahead. Every cent of their wealth was worth only a fraction of the blood, sweat, and tears that they put into earning it.

Caroline agrees. “I imagine they were amazing role models.”

“Definitely,” Santiago chokes, the emotional reality of their deaths beginning to weigh heavily on his mind. In an effort to hide the tears that are trying to form in his eyes, he moves over to the small tower of DVDs and peruses the options. Each title reminds him of when he saw the film in theaters or a special night celebrating someone’s birthday or personal achievement at school or work. Each movie has an important place in his heart, and it suffocates him with sorrow.

Before he can even stop himself, Santiago is curling in on himself as sobs erupt from his throat against his will. Each gasp for air gets louder, the sound filling every crevice in the living room. Caroline rushes to his side and puts her arms around him, hushing him and asking him to move to the couch where he can lie down with a blanket. Despite hearing and understanding her, he is paralyzed in this unexpected and extreme emotional state. The emptiness of the house, the absence of their laughs, the silence from their lack of conversation, and the loneliness of being an orphan are overwhelming. How can exist in this space without them?

“Come on,” Caroline insists, pulling him to his feet and supporting his weight as she practically drags him to the couch. As they move, he feels mucous pooling along the top of his lip. It takes every ounce of energy he has left to spare to lift his arm and wipe his nose on the sleeve. When he flops onto the couch, he rolls away from Caroline into the back of the seat and buries his face into the leather.

It goes on like this for what feels like an unending cycle of sobbing and then calming only to fall apart again. Caroline sits behind him and rubs his back the entire time, though, and it helps. The fact that it soothes him is surprising, yet welcome. When his tears begin to dry and his breaths are steady again, Santiago turns back around and faces her directly. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

“I’m your girlfriend,” she says through a smirk. “If I can’t be there for you when you’re feeling low, then I don’t deserve you.”

While her words don’t fix everything he’s feeling, hearing her say officially that she’s his girlfriend is one hell of a bandage for the pain. Sitting up, he tries his best not to bump her or push her out of the way as he swings his legs around. Once he is upright, though, she walks across the room to pick a movie and situate their food containers. It works out better that way, too, because she starts talking about her memories and keeping his mind focused on something else. Everything she does makes him feel loved and whole.

Santiago is the luckiest man in the world – he is sure of it.

 

Ready for the next chapter? I thought you might be! Here you go >>>

 

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