Isabela Part 2

Nate cocked the gun; I just pulled the trigger.
I dove headfirst into the war he started. So now it’s “fuck it,” and may the worst win!
“Really?” the sweet, sultry voice says, making me close my eyes, already expecting the sarcasm. “Are you going to play dumb, Isabela?”
I know that tone. Ana is hurt because I lied. She knows I went to the initiation. I went years without speaking to her, but the trust never died. When we started talking again, I threw myself into her arms, and she started touching me again, hugging me. Ana simply cut all the wires of the bomb that is my phobia from the first days of our friendship. When I looked at her, sitting on the schoolyard, writing heavy phrases in her notebook, with dry hair full of knots, deep dark circles, and a sad look, I knew I was staring at a soul made from the same rusty and wounded material as mine.
I don’t feel anything bad with my friend’s touch; on the contrary, I want her affection. I love her hugs, her scoldings, her scent. Because this woman never made me feel needy when I sought love from her. On the contrary, she always offered me affection, friendship, and understanding. She looked at me and seemed to see me inside out, and the most beautiful thing is that even though she rummaged through all the bad pieces between the cells of my body, she was never affected by it. Ana loved me and took me in as family.
And what hurts the most is that she and Nate are identical in this regard. It’s been years since I spoke to him, but that bastard can hold me tight, and no trigger will explode in me. No thorn will pierce my head and scream that I’m in danger. No! His hands don’t bring me anything bad... which is quite the opposite of his words. Because he broke down all the fearful walls between us when I was fifteen, and it happened slowly; it wasn’t quick like with Ana, but it was just as deep and meaningful.
“Yeah... Weren’t you with Bill? What’s up, Isa? Why didn’t you tell me you had a thing with him?” Harry says, biting his nails, agreeing with Ana that I’m being a hypocrite for talking about how bad it is to fall in love.
“Because you always thought you’d get me someday.” I shrug, sitting next to my little one.
“Daddy...” Júlia says, pointing to the incomprehensible and countless doodles she made on the paper. And it’s no wonder; she barely knows how to hold the chalk. But it’s still cute to see her proud of her work.
Ana told me that she likes to see her dad drawing, and now she keeps trying to imitate him. That’s incredibly cute!
“Yeah, it looks beautiful, sweetheart,” I say, leaning down to kiss her little head, smelling the soft strawberry scent that her hair exudes. She’s a perfect child, but looks just like her father. I would go into a depression if I carried a child for months, only for it to be born “damn and spit out” looking like the guy who made me angry, like Josiah did to Ana. “Poor thing... Looks just like that jerk of a father.” “Isabela!” Ana scolds, elbowing me.
I let out a chuckle, rubbing the spot where she hit me, pretending it hurt.
“Don’t change the subject, redhead. Tell us about your thing with that backstabber Bill!”
Ana, sipping from a can of orange juice, almost spits it out at the sight of Harry’s “butt face” as he sits on my stool under the bedroom window. He runs a black finger over my keyboard, his silver rings reflecting the daylight. He’s wearing completely ripped jeans, combat boots, and a Guns N' Roses shirt. He’s very handsome, and the black beanie on his head only adds to his vibe.
“We hooked up when he did this tattoo here,” I say, showing the art on my finger. “And after that, too. In fact, practically every day after we closed the studio.”
“Damn, dude says he’s my friend and didn’t tell me this. And you didn’t either! I’m not jealous, but, like, I felt sidelined, you know?”
“And what were you wanting, darling? A throuple?” I tease because I hate him like this, acting all hurt.
“Look, sweetheart...” Ana says, and her playful voice makes me anticipate the joke. The child rolls her big green eyes at Harry. “Uncle’s feelings are hurt.”
“Wanna play?” Júlia invites him.
This child doesn’t go a single day without calling the adults to play with her. His face lights up as he looks at the little one in her pink tank top and shorts, opening and closing her chubby little hand to him, beckoning him. On his wrist, he wears a gold bracelet, personalized with the nickname “Little Thing.”
“Later, Uncle will play, okay, ‘little one’?” he says, smiling at her.
Ana pulls out her phone and puts on a drawing video, one of those annoying ones that my niece is obsessed with. She settles in her mother’s lap, looking like she’s snuggling in to sleep, with her pigtails tied with huge pink bows brushing against my friend’s large chest.

I can't handle all this cuteness, nor the amount of love that screams for this little one in my chest, so I lean over Ana's lap. I fill Júlia's cheeks with kisses, making her get lost in the sweetest, most perfect laughter in the world.
“Auntie loves you, you little ‘fat thing’!” I growl, squeezing her little arms affectionately.
“Auntie!” she calls, stretching her arms toward me.
I pull her into my lap and wrap her sideways in my arms. Júlia grabs one of her hands on the neckline of my white cropped top with thin straps. I didn’t even have time to take off my red plaid pants and put on something more comfortable. However, I’m already almost dancing on clouds with these people I consider family keeping me company; there’s no greater comfort than this.
I miss Josiah and Bill, but for my ex “hookup,” I feel more anger than I can feel nostalgia for our friendship. The truth is it was never just friendship; we started hooking up shortly after I began hanging out with them and working at Ravina. But Bill was, for over a year, someone important to me. And yes, I fell in love with him. I didn’t love him, but I imagined we could have a future. And I still feel hurt, so much so that I don’t even want to talk to that man, even if now it’s Nate who’s in every one of my cells.
“So that’s it, Harry. And don’t worry; he already gave me a nice kick in the butt,” I say, taking Ana's phone and positioning it so Júlia can watch her annoying cartoons. “Bill was such a jerk; he broke up with me via text.”
“Serves you right! No one told you to get with him... Because, honestly, I can’t even understand how you two got along. The dude’s a brute, and you’ve got your issues with trauma.”
“He respected me, man. We clicked because... you really want to know?”
“I do!” he says, leaning his forearms on his knees. “When I met you, I touched you, and you punched me in the face!”
“No way?!” Ana screams, shocked. “How did I never know about this gem?”
“Oh, he’s exaggerating, friend. It went like this... He had this habit of talking and trying to touch my hair. Then he did that, and I froze. But the idiot didn’t get it, and when I was finally able to move, Harry shook me by the shoulders like I was a rag doll,” I recount, now able to laugh at the situation, almost losing my breath as I remember that day.