Josiah Marquez Part 2

And what if none of that had happened? If I had thought more, if I had tried to talk to her and not given in to hatred? We would be married, I would have felt every kick of my daughter in that beautiful belly Ana showed off. I would have witnessed the birth of our daughter, her first achievements in the world, like walking, talking, the first time she ate... I wiped a tear, but there were so many streaming down that I decided to let them flow. Maybe Ana would already be carrying another child in her womb. I would have shown her the beautiful places I saw around Rio de Janeiro, trails with such gorgeous views that those honey-colored eyes would surely have sparkled.
Why did I mess everything up?
Ana was so devoted to me...
How could I have been so foolish?
And then there was Lucah. I was trying to keep my mind from fixing that sentence in my chest. I was trying to avoid accepting the burden that maybe I had been unfair... But I still had doubts in my heart. Man, he threw thousands of things at me when I questioned why he lived with Ana and didn't care about her drinking. He was really foolish with me, making jokes or laughing when Marta was next to him after I accused him. It annoyed me how no one else saw that side of him... My brother only showed that foolish side when he was alone with me.
That’s why I was still reluctant to accept the idea that he was a saint like Ana saw him... How could I see a saint in that sneaky guy?
"Ana... Ana! You’re driving me crazy!" I whispered, staring at my hand holding my friend's.
It had been two difficult weeks. The pain was crushing me because Ana had given me an ultimatum and seemed very determined to push me aside if I didn’t come back the way she needed. And I knew my wife was right.
Yes! My wife... because Ana was. She just didn’t know it!
I only didn’t get drunk or look for a joint because it hurt so much, because I was still a father. I still had obligations to my Little One. The week after Ana "kicked my ass," I picked up Júlia from daycare as agreed with her. Isabela helped me with the child but cursed me out when I questioned her for not telling me about the affair, not saying that Lucah never touched Ana. Isa called me a fool and reminded me that she had gotten tired of hinting that there was no affair, that Júlia had eyebrows just like mine, and that I was really dumb for never picking up on her hints.
Isabela cursed me out so much last week... Called me a sucker, an idiot, and said I should go on my knees to Ana before I lost her for good.
Even angry, she spent the end of Thursday night at my place with Bill, helping me with Júlia before leaving. Isa was at my house because there was a much-anticipated UFC fight on Thursday night, and that’s why Bill had stayed with us.
I felt something strange between the two of them... I don’t know. Isabela was never one to smile much, but every now and then I’d see her grinning at my friend. Was something going on and I didn’t notice? Damn... Harry would be pissed when he found out Bill was with Isabela. I wasn’t going to say anything, otherwise the group would split and it would be my fault for stirring up trouble.
The plan was to watch the fight together, but Júlia started crying because she wanted to watch something called "Mundo Bita." Damn, no one could make Little One stop crying, so the only option was to let her take over the TV and watch the fight on my phone next to my friend. It was crazy, the kid was already running the show. The next day, I followed Isabela’s two suggestions: a tablet for the little beast and a TV in the living room. That way, we’d have an escape when the little "queen" decided to throw a tantrum and take over the TV.
When I said goodbye to Bernardo and his mother, I went straight home. As soon as I arrived, a fine, annoying rain started falling, making the atmosphere even more depressing and intensifying my feeling of being screwed. I parked my car in the garage and lit a cigarette, walking to the porch, watching the raindrops cover the ground. I took a drag, feeling a bit of tension ease as I exhaled the smoke through my nose. I looked over at the house next door and felt a pang in my heart. I was used to seeing life in that yellow house, seeing a Sweetie floating around there.

It was getting cold, but I couldn’t smoke inside the house; after all, my daughter now frequented my "place." In fact, it seemed more like Julia’s house than mine. Her toys were scattered everywhere, on the rack, on the carpet, and there was even the small bed I set up next to mine. It was funny to see the pink furniture standing out against everything else around it, with even pinker sheets and stuffed animals of all sizes on top. The only problem was that my daughter hated the bed and only wanted to sleep cuddled up with me. Ana told me she didn’t like sleeping alone, and I spent hours setting up the bed for nothing... Well, Isabela said that when she got older, she would like to have her own bed. But I thought about building something cool for my little one, a room planned just for her... But I didn’t do it because... deep in my broken and damaged heart, there was still a hope that I might get back with her mother, and if that happened, this time I would propose to her, and she wouldn’t slip through my fingers.
I just needed to understand that I couldn’t blame her for what happened with Bernardo; after all, I hadn’t seen Ana attack him. I wanted to drive that certainty into my head so I could have the woman I loved back. I wanted our family to stay together because we were a family. Ana and I had built something in our union... We were still Julia’s parents.
Man, I loved my daughter so much, so much that it hurt my chest. Dude, this fatherly love was crazy. Everything she did made me smile. I could spend forever showering her chubby cheeks with kisses, but the little one would get tired and want to run off and play. Yesterday, as soon as Julia got home from daycare, I was tidying up the house, and Isabela took the child to the condo playground. Some kid pushed my little one, and she came back with a scraped knee, red eyes and nose from crying so much. I felt a fierce rage rise up, but I had to control myself and remember it was just another child.
My mom called me this morning and asked if Julia could stay with her for a while. A Friday was ending, and since the night before, my little one was supposed to be with me. Her grandmother missed her so much that she didn’t even send her to daycare. I understood that Marta had been missing my daughter, after all, she was always attached to her, and now Julia spent most of her time with me or her mother.
Everything could be different... I could have the woman I loved back in my arms, I could sleep and wake up with that lovely scent around me, but I knew that every time I went back to visit Bernardo, my heart would break with the doubt of whether she was the one who did that to my friend. Whether she was responsible for taking his life, his communication with the world, his control over his body.
If I was wrong, it would be another sin on my account. Another weight on the scale. Another stake driven into the chest of the woman I loved.
The first step was understanding that I needed to apologize for doubting her fidelity; it was the first step to spending hours thinking about how to make amends for the suffering I caused her. It was the first step to realizing that I was wrong in most of the events. I still wanted the chance to talk about every detail of everything we misunderstood about each other, and, in time, that would happen. We needed to discuss every little feeling at some point to understand exactly where we could try to heal the pain we inflicted on each other.
I was so screwed up. I was in love with her like the first time I saw her, constantly missing her coconut scent, touching myself and thinking of Ana every time I needed to relieve the weight off my damn sack, unable to think of or desire any other woman. No pair of breasts could have the delightful weight of hers in my hands, no mouth could have the temperature or sweetness of those divine lips, and no woman would ever come close to what Ana was. No woman could have my heart in her hands, to tread, crush, and do whatever she wanted with, like the mother of my child did.
I wanted her, I wanted my woman, the woman I dreamed of spending every day of my life with. But there was one requirement from her that I had to respect: I could only go to her when I could only love her, when I could only give her good feelings.
How do I heal my heart?