Page 13 of Lust in Translation

“Liar,” he retorts.

I look away.

He continues reading a beat later and I have to focus on my breathing. Friendship. That’s what is between Leo and me. There’s no reason to think it’s inappropriate or anything more. We’ve always only been friends. Even if I’m attracted to him. Even if he looks at me like I’m more. Or could be.

I reply in Spanish. “I’ve missed having friends, yes. I haven’t met very many people here and I don’t have anyone to talk to besides Adam and my therapist. Margaret is the closest thing I have to a female friend, and only because I talk to her several times a day via email. All my friends are in Bronze Bay. Or spread across the country. It’s hard to be an adult and make friends. You,” I say, pausing. “You’re kind of given them by proxy in your profession. I envy that.”

He nods his head and I wonder how much he understood. He clicks around on the tablet and types something in to translate it, no doubt, and replies, “I’m lucky with friends. It’s the reason I stayed here after Natalia died. Why I’ll probably never leave.” He clears his throat and speaks of the SEAL brotherhood with reverence, then pauses. “What about Juliet?”

Her name alone brings me joy. She was my best friend in Bronze Bay. Juliet was so similar to me that we were like the same person. When I would sneak out to meet Leo at the beach, she would come with me. “She’s in school in Los Angeles, busy with a whole new life these days. We do talk every once in a while, but I try to keep it light.” I didn’t let her know how much the loss of Noel affected me. I couldn’t bring myself to feed her the dirty truth. I brushed over it like it was no big deal and that everything happens for a reason and all that. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle the truth of my depression, I lied merely because I didn’t want to drag anyone else down to my level.

I switch to Spanish to see if he can follow along. “Juliet is going to try to get back to the East Coast for the rest of med school and her residency. She’s trying for pediatrics and may even end up at Boston Children’s Hospital.” Leo’s face falls at the reminder of the hospital, and I regret saying it.

“Sorry.” Internally I scold myself, and fall back into English.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

“You kind of fall away from your high school friends, you know? But when you get back together it’s as if no time has passed at all. Or, at least that’s the way it is for most people.” An email pings from Margaret reminding me of our lunch plans. The ones that involve me making a run to her favorite place. I tap a quick confirmation. “At least I hope it’s like that the next time I see Juliet. I might be a lost cause.” I scratch my head.

“Why do you do that?” Leo asks.

For a moment, I’m not even sure what he means. It was an automatic reply because I was focused on a couple things at the same time. Then I replay my last sentence. Self-deprecation. “It comes naturally these days. Something else I’m working on.” Palming my desk, I stand up. “In Spanish now,” I say. “Let’s review the quiz from yesterday.”

He asks the question again, in Spanish this time.

Sighing, I stand and walk to my desk and perch against it, crossing my legs at my ankles. “Self-esteem. My self-esteem is,” I say, trailing off because I wanted to say shit, but need to be professional. “Not good. It happened after. When I blamed myself for the stillbirth. I honed in on every single thing I ever did while I was pregnant that could have caused it.” The clock seems to slow as I delve into the black place I try not to think about. “The sip of champagne when Adam got a promotion. The sushi roll I ate because they told me it was cooked, but it was the wrong order. The golf cart ride along the beach that was bumpier than it should have been. Or the time I fell off a step stool hanging a picture on the wall when we moved into our house. There’s more. I could go on.”

I meet Leo’s astonished gaze. “You’re fucking joking, right? You can’t possibly be that weak.”

Shaking my head, I look away. “Embarrassing, isn’t it? That I can’t control my thoughts? Trust me, I’m just as disappointed in myself as you are.”

He puffs out a long breath. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But you’re right, so it doesn’t matter if you meant it.”

“That wasn’t who you were. You’re creating this fucktangular situation in your head. The reason our friendship worked was because you were mature and pragmatic. You knew the way of things. The world and those around you. You knew who you were and what you wanted.”

I sniff out a sarcastic breath. “Did I?”

“You did,” he says, emphatically nodding his head. “This isn’t who you are. None of those bullshit reasons you listed are why you…lost the baby.”

Pain sears. “I know,” I reply.

“Why, then? What’s the point in feeling sorry for yourself?” Leo says, arms held wide, challenging. Everyone else has used kid gloves with me. Even my own mother would never dream of asking the hard questions—the ones that might fix me.

“It’s the only way to rationalize everything I’ve destroyed in the wake. If I don’t blame myself, the alternative is to blame Adam or the circumstances.”

“How about no one is to blame, then?”

I sink a bit lower. “They did an autopsy,” I whisper. “When a baby dies full term and none of the prior tests showed anything, it’s protocol. To make sure the mother wasn’t using drugs or some bullshit like that.” It’s the dirty truth that makes everything that much worse.

“There was something wrong with her. She wouldn’t have lived if she had been born alive instead of dead. Incompatible with life.”

“And?” Leo says, cocking his head.

“And it wasn’t my fault. Or Adam’s. It’s hard to wrap my brain around. That’s all. I know how confusing it sounds. The fact is, I know the truth and still chose to blame myself.”

“It’s not confusing at all,” Leo barks. I slide away from the desk and sit in a chair at the table once again. “It’s pretty fucking straightforward, actually,” he deadpans.

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