Ana Oliveira

Present day...


Josiah stared at me, shocked and pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then hesitated, smoothing his hair in that anxious gesture he always repeated, pulling the strands back with his fingers. His green eyes were tearful, and I remained silent, watching him, feeling warm despite the air conditioning being set to the lowest temperature.
“I thought you had fallen by yourself...” he finally said, wiping away the tears that were uselessly streaming down his face, only to be replaced by more. “Forgive me... for hurting you!”
God knew how much I wanted to hear that last sentence come from his lips. I wished with all my being that he knew what the accident had done to me. That having my bones shattered, fractured, and broken into various pieces had destroyed me. But, in the end, that sentence only made me very sad. Deep down, I understood that it had been an accident. I was sure Josiah hadn’t meant to hurt me, that he hadn’t even realized I would fall...
And like many things about us, I didn’t want to tell anyone that I fell from the pickup truck bed while Josiah was trying to get me out of the outburst. I didn’t want Marta to be even more disappointed in Josiah, didn’t want Luana to hate him more. And, most importantly, I didn’t want to hear opinions that would make me blame the father of my child even more. I was literally broken in every imaginable way, and I didn’t want any more pitying looks or comments about my hand.
I realized Josiah had no idea that I had broken my hand because he let go of me and I ended up falling. I didn’t want him to know that I also blamed him for my misfortune, just as he used to accuse me of hitting our friend.
To everyone’s belief, I had hurt myself trying to break the stereo, and at some point during the outburst, I ended up falling while I was alone.
“It was an accident, Josiah!” I said, letting him hug me, eager to reciprocate. But there was something different in me, a heavy and difficult understanding about us. My body began to feel heavier, as I felt my heart breaking once again. “I don’t need to forgive something that wasn’t even your intention...”
I had been so angry in the morning, so sad and revolted by that horrible bucket left at my door. But everything changed drastically when I sought to escape the pain caused by that cruel prank, throwing myself into the arms of the man who hated me, even though I knew he felt other things as well. I knew his body craved mine, just as mine burned and screamed for his, but I also understood that there was hurt and anger, and I saw that there was still love... I wasn’t naive. But, as Josiah had just told me, the love he felt couldn’t overcome the hurt.
It was no longer about who had tried to torment me using my brother’s death. At that moment, everything revolved around what Josiah and I were, our misunderstandings, the things we felt, and the things we didn’t say to each other.
I nestled in his arms, feeling so much pain that my muscles were tense. He had a scent I cherished, which made me cry many times when I missed him. I rested the side of my head on his chest and let the tears flow.
I think Rita, my therapist, would be proud of the things those moments helped me understand. Of the decision I made, the things that would be set right that day because it was time for it all to end.

“God!'' he roared, as if in pain, squeezing me in his arms. “Why did all this have to happen? Why?”
“I learned...'' I began, pushing him away with difficulty, standing on tiptoe and holding his face between my hands as I looked up at him. “...after everything that happened to me, that there are no real ‘whys.’ There are small fragments behind everything that happens in our lives. And many of those fragments are untamable, products of fate, chance, the irony of life. Others could be controlled; they were results of our bad choices.
Now, it’s impossible to name all the fragments with precision, what was our fault or what wasn’t. But some things are clear on the scale of our relationship, small weights that not only made it tilt unevenly but completely broke it...
“Philosophizing, Sweetie?” He smiled, letting a tear slip where I had just cleaned with the tip of my right index finger, the deformed finger that was so crooked it almost made an arc to the side. Josiah surprised me by leaving a light kiss on the tip of the finger. My impulse was to hide it, but I managed to breathe and slowly remove it. “Tell me, Ana... Tell me what things broke the scale for you, even though I probably already know each one...”
“For me, you treating me like a whore when you broke up with me was the first weight,” I said, seeing that he really expected to hear that. “Then, me omitting the truth about Júlia’s pregnancy also weighed heavily, because I didn’t have you around at any moment, and even though I always denied it inside me, having to handle motherhood alone broke me. I imagined seeing you holding my belly, seeing you smile at the anxious kicks she gave inside. When I first heard our daughter’s heartbeat in her first ultrasound, all I could do was cry because it was you I wanted there with me, smiling as you saw that spark of life growing inside me. When I found out it was a girl, even though I hated you, I chose the name Júlia just to match yours. When I saw her for the first time in a 3D ultrasound, it was your features on that little face, and it shattered me. I know the fault of not having you there was also mine, but it drained the magic of my pregnancy.” He nodded, closing his eyes and whispered a “I’m sorry.” “The accident with Ber, my deformed hand, you and Isa, so many weights...”
“I never slept with our friend,” he murmured, making me feel the hairs on my body stand on end, shocked, as my mouth dropped open in a soft “O,” while Jow opened his eyes and stared at mine. “Isabela is just my friend; it was never anything beyond that. And I believe you’re right about there being fragments we’re sure are our fault, and those we don’t control. I think I can say three weights that were the worst for me: you and Lucah; you not telling me that Júlia was mine, depriving me of all the moments you just mentioned, and leaving me a year and four months away from her, being a complete stranger to our daughter; and then there’s Ber...”
“Josiah...'' I whispered, preparing to finally have the courage to defend myself, to tell my side of the story. I took a deep breath, trembling, feeling my face burning. The air almost left me entirely, and I knew my voice would sound shaky and weak. “There was never anything beyond the deepest friendship between your brother and me. Never!”
“Ana... No... No lies!” he pleaded, holding my hands, trying to pull them away.
I forced myself to stay strong, not to break down once again. I forced myself to say everything I had wanted to, to throw the truth into his arms, even knowing he would break when he finally understood how unfair he had been to Lucah, how terrible the judgments he had made of his brother were.