Page 8 of Sworn to My Heart
“What do you need to thank her for?” I ask as I help her sit on an old wooden chair with a floral cushion next to us. She takes a deep breath, seeming eager to share.
“When I celebrated my 36th birthday, my daughter decided to surprise me with a diving trip in Florida. We lived in a small town forty minutes from Miami at that time.
She worked tirelessly at a café in our town, saving up every penny for this trip. Her excitement was palpable when she shared her plan with me, and how could I refuse such an invitation to share this experience with her?
On the day of the dive, a trainee hastily checked my diving gear and overlooked securing my oxygen tank properly. Paired with a diver, the experience was exhilarating until my oxygen tube came loose deep underwater. Panic gripped me as I quickly lost oxygen, while my companion struggled to calm me and fix the issue. Fear clouded my judgment, and I made a frantic attempt to swim to the surface, but my breath didn’t hold out, and I felt the end closing in.
I resigned myself to sinking when suddenly a hand grabbed mine, propelling us upward faster than I could comprehend. Limp and losing consciousness, I woke up coughing and spitting water, and there she was—your mother. Her image remains etched in my memory like it was yesterday. Her long black hair flows down her back, her turquoise eyes shining like precious gems in the sunlight. She seemed like an angel, her tail hidden underwater while her human form rests on the sand. I thought I was hallucinating from the ordeal” she smiles, and I take in every word of her story.
“I found this pendant in the spot where she was sitting. I believed it had fallen off of her. It’s what still confirms to me today that I didn’t hallucinate.”
Her story brought tears to my eyes, and a wave of pride in my mother washes over me. A spark of longing for her jumped back into my heart.
“Take the necklace. It’s not for sale, but I think it’s the best way to thank your mother,” the woman says, and I hug her tightly with excitement.
She gently places the pendant in my hands.
“Time is fleeting for me now. Tell your mother I lived a happy and fulfilling life,” she adds, prompting me to wipe away tears, pondering when I might reunite with my mother.
As I remind myself of the irreversible choice between the sea and land, I push aside my yearning, knowing that if I return to the ocean, I may never return to the world above.
As soon as I step outside, I open the clasp of the necklace and put it around my neck. It’s beautiful and just what I needed. I glance at my phone and am stunned to find that an hour and a half has flown by. It felt like mere minutes. Satisfied with my shopping haul of a few new shirts, a sudden chill breeze through my thin dress prompts me to head home and snuggle under my favorite blanket.
Curled up in my favorite blanket on the bed now, I browse the internet out of boredom and consider taking a nap, but suddenly remember I wanted to watch those movies to understand why Luca called me “Cinderella.”
I type “Cinderella” into the search engine and quickly find a direct free link to watch it online. I make myself some hot chocolate, curl up again in the blanket, and start watching.
The hours slip away as I immerse myself in one movie after another, eventually reaching “The Lion King.” Tears streamdown my face during Mufasa’s tragic scene when a loud knock startles me. I wipe my eyes and open the door to find Cora, looking upset, holding a white cardboard box.
“Are you crazy? I couldn’t reach you on the phone! I thought something happened to you,” she looks at me again, and her expression changes from annoyed to worried. “Why are you crying? What happened?” she asks quickly.
Iignoreher question and pick up my phone to check her call. Great, the battery died, and I didn’t notice.
I hold it up and show Cora the blank screen as an explanation.
“Why are you crying? Can you tell me already?” she asks again, and I start laughing.
“I’m watching ‘The Lion King,’ I wasn’t ready for Mufasa’s death,” I say, laughing at myself for how pathetic I must look right now.
Cora looks at me and peeks at my laptop, then a moment later, clutches her stomach and starts laughing.
“You’ve never watched ‘The Lion King’?” she asks in surprise, her laughter continuing.
“No,” I answer honestly, and she keeps giggling. “It’s my first time. Today, I watched ‘Cinderella,’ ‘Snow White,’ ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘Rapunzel,’ ‘Peter Pan,’ ‘The Little Mermaid,’ and now ‘The Lion King,’” I declare, counting the movies I’ve watched on my fingers. Her eyes widen in amazement. “Are you serious? How is that possible?”
Her laughter subsides, and she sits on the bed with the white cardboard box in her hand, next to the laptop. She gestures for me to come sit and says, “Come on, I’ll watch the movie with you. I haven’t seen it in years.”
Grinning ear to ear, I join her on the bed. When she opens the box of pastries, my mood brightens even more. “Great, now I’ll be both fat and a crybaby,” I joke, as we munch on sweets andenjoy the rest of the movie.
By midnight, completely unaware of the time, we both drift off to sleep, cuddled up on the bed.
Cora and I wake up in a panic when my door bursts open, and in the darkness, I see three men standing at the entrance with loaded guns. My hands shake as I push Cora behind me, ready to protect both of us.
“Mariano? Oh shit,” she says nervously, and the lights in the apartment turn on. Mariano and Graham’s faces come into view, and beside them, I see Luca standing, aiming his gun in my direction. I release the breath that must have been held for that long minute, and anger begins to replace the fear.
“Are you insane? Breaking into my apartment in the middle of the night? Your husband is a lunatic, Cora!” I snap at them, and Cora sighs, “I told you, manners are not his strong suit,” she says, trying to calm the situation.
“I could have killed you,” slips out of my mouth, and I immediately regret it.
