Page 110 of Phantom Mine

It’s concerning. He should be able to lift right out of my life without me missing him because one day that’s exactly what he’s going to do. So I resolve to see his disappearance and radio silence as good things.

Practice for the near future.

It’s unfortunately not that easy. His absence also reveals just how much of my grief he single-handedly keeps at bay. I’ve always thought of him as a distraction, but I never once considered that he could be equally shielding me from the crushing weight of loss. Without him, the sadness seeps back in. Instead of running away from it, I decide to face it. To embrace it. To take a moment to honor Adri.

I pack a bag full of necessities and head to our spot.

‘Our spot’ isn’t anything special, nor is it actually ours. It’s a very old tree in a quiet corner of Hyde Park where we used to go when we had a brief reprieve from the rain. We’d sit and talk, eat, listen to music from back home, and participate in our favorite activity—people watching.

When the tree comes into view, I stop in my tracks, overcome. I haven’t been back since Adriana disappeared. It’s yet another thing I stopped doing after she was gone. In a way, two lives came to a screeching halt that night.

It looks exactly the same. Same broad, solid trunk, same lush grass, same secluded spot. Adri and I are just a blip in the thousand year old history of this tree, so I don’t know why I thought it might have changed. Maybe because I expect everything and everyone that came into contact with her to reflect the same level of devastation in the wake of her loss as Ido. Standing in front of it now, I find comfort in the sameness of it all.

Once my blanket is laid out on the grass, I sit and start pulling items out of my bag.

“Hummus, carrots, and cheddar sticks,” I speak out loud as if Adri is sitting next to me. “Because I really wasn’t lying about how good those are.” I smile to myself imagining her rolling her eyes at me. “Aguardiente, of course, because Thiago would kick our asses if we drank anything else.” I place the bottle on the blanket beside me. “And last but not least,arepas boyacense.” I look up at the sky, holding the tupperware tightly in both hands. “I hope you’re not mad at me for eating these without you. It didn’t feel right to come here without them. If youaremad, you can yell at me when I make my way up to where you are. I hope you’re scoping out all the cool things we’ll do when I get there.”

If anyone is walking through this part of the park, I’m sure they’re choosing to give the crazy lady talking out loud to herself a wide berth. Not that I can blame them.

I peel the lid off the tupperware and grab anarepa. The second the flavors hit my tongue, memories come flooding back with them.

“Dios mio,” Adri groans, an arepa in each hand. “You need to be very careful with these.”

I laugh. “Why?”

“If you ever let a man try them, he’ll never let you go. He might wife you on the spot and keep you chained to the kitchen, making these on demand for him.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m serious. These are husband catchers. Mark my words here.”

“Well then maybe I should start distributing them. We both know my love life has been nothing short of tragic.”

Adri takes a bite of one arepa, then the other, nodding with her mouth comically full. “You do tend to like them unavailable.”

“I donotlike them unavailable,” I gasp, shoving her shoulder. “The unavailable likeme, it’s a completely different thing. They conveniently forget they already have a girlfriend and I get to find that out later.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I wonder what Adri would think of Matteo. I know she’d like the person he is and how protective of me he is, but in my short—although incredibly consistent—dating history he's the most unavailable man of them all. The only difference is he’s been honest about it from the beginning.

“Adri,” I say, speaking to the sky once more. “Send me a sign if you like Matteo.”

A massive, ear-splitting crack of thunder meets my words.

Clouds blanket the horizon, turning it dark grey, and a drop hits my upturned cheek. One drop turns to two, then the skies open up with an ominous roar and it starts to pour.

I laugh.

“You’re giving me mixed signals here,hermana,” I call. On the one hand, it is a sign. On the other, rain had no bigger enemy than Adriana when she was still alive, so I can hardly consider this an endorsement of him.

I keep laughing, my shoulders convulsing, until my laughter turns into silent sobs.

Drawing my legs up to my chest, I close my eyes, rest my head on my forearms, and continue to cry silently. Crying is good. It means that I’m no longer empty, no longer numb.

I’m drenched within seconds.

I didn’t check the weather before I left, even though I should have guessed that it would rain because it always fucking rains. My shirt sticks to my back, icy cold rain running in rivuletsdown my spine. Water beads at the points of my hair and drips down onto my chest. Thick drops run the length of my face and mix with my tears until I’m not sure which is which, but both continue on past my jaw.

I’m shivering, my teeth chattering loudly, but I don’t move. Closing my eyes, I take the much-deserved beating from the elements and sit there in my misery.

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