Link to the previous chapter
Martín’s move to Arsenal did not turn out as I thought it would be. I assumed he would get busier and wouldn’t have time to hang out, like I told his parents during our last dinner.
But probably to prove me wrong, Martín was calling me about twice a week and texting me every other day. Initially I assumed he was still feeling lonely and it would get better when his practice and games started. And I was surprised when it continued during his pre-season matches as well.
Martín: Reached Singapore
Me: Good to know. How are you feeling?
Martín: Excited. This city is so beautiful. I think you would love it.
Me: I’ll make sure I’ll visit someday
He would text me if he found something nice in a store.
Martín: (picture) do you like this bracelet?
Martín: I’ll buy this for you. A souvenir.
Me: Are you mad? It looks so expensive. Souvenirs are not supposed to be expensive. It has to be a keychain or a pendant from street shops.
Martín: I don’t see any shop like that where I stay :(
Me: Then you don’t have to buy anything. You are not obligated to.
He typed for a couple of minutes but didn’t send anything. So I went on about my day and then found this message from him later.
Martín: I know but I want to
Conversation flowed like this. Or he would call after a bad day but talk about everything apart from the match.
Most of the time he just let me talk and he quietly listened. I didn’t know how it helped him but I just couldn’t decline his call or hang up on him unless he wanted that.
So I talked to him about my work, the new hobbies I picked up, the time I missed my flight because I read the date wrong, the time I cried for 2 days straight after reading Kite Runner and more. I used my commute time to listen to his short voice notes just giving me briefs about the food he tried that day or a gift he had got for his mom and to send my lengthy voice notes.
Some days my work was too hectic that we just texted and our responses were hours apart.
Martín: I saw a really cute dog when I went for a run this morning
Me: Oh nice! You have a picture? What breed?
Martín: A pug. So small. Made me smile.
Me: Are you gonna bring Lea to London anytime?
Martín: May be. But she needs someone with her constantly. So it might not be the best idea. I miss her though
Me: I can take care of her some time if you would like. Can’t promise all days. Sorry
Martín: No that’s alright. Home is the best place for her right now
It should have been a 5 minute conversation but to be very honest, it made me feel good when after a hectic run of meetings, I see his name flashing up from my screen.
Slowly, I could see he was getting busier. His texts were less frequent. But he made sure to send voice notes every day just keeping me informed. I didn’t ask for it. We didn’t have a deal. But he sent them and I liked listening to them.
One thing that took a major hit with all this was my relationship with Carlo. He noticed that I was a bit more engaged with my phone these days. And I knew he wouldn’t understand the type of friendship I shared with Martín. To be fair to him, even I didn’t understand it enough to explain that to him. I was close to Martín when we were kids but we grew apart as we got older, especially with Martín joining the academy and focusing on football.
So it was hard to explain how we couldn’t stop texting each other all of a sudden, why I feel soft corner for him or why I want him to be happy. I knew a conversation was awaiting its moment. It wasn’t easy to skip it given that Carlo had basically moved in with me.
He lost his job two months back and had been spending a lot of time at my place so he wouldn’t feel anything that remotely resembled sadness. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to process it. He set camp on the couch and watched Instagram reels all day long. Earlier he used to clean the kitchen or go grocery shopping in between. But gradually, he started adding more mess than order.
He wanted me to sit next to him whenever I wasn’t working so we could watch some brain-rotting youtube videos and spend our evening talking about it. I knew he was sad and so I tried giving him time and optimism but most of the times it turned into an argument, somehow. My house and in extension, life, turned gloomy day by day.
But recently, I gave up on him and started spending my time after work baking, cooking Spanish food or listening to Spanish songs. It added more colour to my life. And of course I shared all these with Martín as pictures or videos. It felt nice to do something I liked and share it with someone who appreciated. And obviously, this change in my pace must have alerted Carlo of something I wasn’t sharing with him. A new found friendship which made me content.
A fight broke out again eventually. This time more serious. Because he accused me of cheating on him. Because he looked into my phone without permission.
“Who’s Martin?” he asked as I was watering my plants I had carefully organised on my window sill.
“Who?” It genuinely took me by surprise. The only Martin I knew was Martín Zubimendi. But Carlo didn’t know him.
“The dude you have been texting all day”
“He is my friend. Close to my family. How do you know him?”
“Close to you?” he asked, ignoring my question.
I stayed silent. I knew it would get worse irrespective of what I said.
“Your messages seem to suggest you were close”
“You went through my phone?” Anger flared through my nerves.
“Shouldn’t I? If you don’t have anything to hide, why are you worried?”
“Because it’s breach of privacy, Carlo”
“You draw a line there but you cheating on me is fine?”
“Shut the hell up” I yelled. “You can’t go through my stuff, take up my apartment, make a mess, drain my energy and on top of that, accuse me of cheating. I lost my will over past few weeks. I’m tired of cooking for you, cleaning for you, cheering you up, and failing. I’m tired of having to work for both of us. I know you for just 6 months. But I already feel like I have grown old and I’m tired of this relationship. Martín is majorly why I haven’t lost my mind right now.”
Words poured out. Words I had locked up inside of me, never to say out loud. But I subconsciously decided not to take any more of atrocity from Carlo. I wanted to live my life. I wanted a nice evening with wine and paella. Not cold pizza. I wanted to watch an old Spanish movie or read a classic. Not watch two hours of someone explaining a conspiracy.
Carlo was so taken aback by my change in tone. I grabbed the chance to keep going.
“I have had enough of you, Carlo. Please leave. This is done. I don’t deserve this. Grow up and learn how to deal with setbacks. Don’t hurt the people around you using your failure as an excuse. Pack and leave right now. I need my time back” I said firmly. Eyes started tearing up.
He refused to leave. He told me to calm down. It made me more angry. I told him I would call the police. And he left.
Once he left, I vacuumed the couch, ordered in tapas, poured myself some red wine and watched Viridiana as I went to sleep.
When I woke up the next day. I had few messages from Martín. None from Carlo. I felt relieved. I didn’t want to deal with him. It was Sunday. I had the entire day to myself. But I also felt empty. I wanted to talk to someone. I called my mom to tell her about Carlo. But I didn’t want to show her how upset I was. She already felt sorry I had to face that and cursed Carlo with some delicious words which made me laugh. And then I cried to her. Tears poured out.
“I miss you” I said. And I heard her cry too.
I didn’t know when I went to sleep again but the doorbell woke me up. It was about 6 PM. I was extremely hungry. I hardly had a proper meal the entire day. Groggily I open the door to see Martín standing outside, with a takeaway cover.
“Want some Paella?” he smiled. I pushed myself onto him and hugged him so tightly and let my eyes dry out. He held me patiently and rested his cheek over my head. I felt warm and safe. I didn’t want to let go.
But we were standing in the hallway, so I invited him inside.
“You sit. I’ll set the plates”
“You don’t have to” I said.
Without listening, he swiftly set the plates, poured some wine for himself and settled down next to me on the couch.
“Your apartment is so beautiful” he said as we ate.
I mumbled a thanks. “Are you straight from practice?”
“How did you know my place?”
He paused and looked at me. “Your mom called.”
She might have told him about the breakup too.
As if he read my mind, he added, “you don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t have to” and pulled a tiny jewel box from his pocket.
I gasped and said “I said you are not obligated to”
“But I said I wanted to” he smiled.
It was a delicate floral crystal necklace with a teardrop charm. It was gorgeous.
“Put it on me” I said, turned my back to him and pulled my hair to the front, exposing the back of my neck to him.
As soon as he put the pendant around my neck, I ran to look at myself in the mirror. It felt silly but I also felt nice.
“Martín, this is gorgeous. Thank you” I said as I walked back to the couch.
“You look really beautiful”
He was so nice to me. I was feeling so emotional. I put my head on his shoulder and settled cozily. I wanted to kiss him. For all the warmth and hope he had been giving me. I wanted to show him how much I appreciated it.
I lifted my head to look at him. Our faces were so close to each other. I could smell his shampoo. And his breath fell on my skin.
I placed a kiss on his cheek.
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