Josiah Marquez Part 3

I loved Ana.
I wanted Ana.
She loved me too. And, most importantly, Docinho forgave me. Why couldn’t I simply understand that I wasn’t certain of Ana’s guilt regarding what happened with Bernardo?
I didn’t see her touch him.
Feeling the tears starting to well up in my eyes, I decided I could at least have a few beers, since Julia would be sleeping at my mom’s. I walked over to my bedside table and took out the wooden picture frame I always kept hidden in the drawer, its contents obscured by a stack of papers. I stared at my Docinho, so young and shy in those pencil sketches. In her underwear and bra, with a sweet little smile, her perfect, wavy hair, her beautiful, slightly plump lips, her ample breasts almost spilling out of the bra, her slightly protruding belly with the perfect curve below her navel, just right for a bite.
“‘My Rose’...” I whispered, letting a tear fall and splatter against the glass of the frame.
I relived every moment since our breakup, remembering the first time I placed my fingers on that little belly and knew that baby inside was mine. I thought about the disappointment of seeing Ana lie and shout that the child she was carrying wasn’t the result of our relationship. I remember the despair that flooded my body when I realized Ana didn’t intend to let me be with Julia. I was so angry, I hated her in those moments, but I didn’t even have the courage to take legal action against her.
Ana had broken down many times, and the only mention of family she had was that child. How could I take that away from her? I hated her... But not for a single day did I stop loving her. I didn’t want her to suffer, not having our daughter, the feeling I experienced and knew could be destructive. And only for that reason did I accept the cruelty she inflicted by keeping me away from Julia. Only for that reason did I remain in the shadows, receiving crumbs from the daughter we had, observing her from afar for a year and four months...
There were so many weights on the scale, as she herself said, but I forgave them. I wanted her, more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman in my life. And between more and more cans of beer, I picked up the phone and overcame my critical sense, feeling humiliated, defeated, and nostalgic, I called her.
She answered so quickly that it startled me:
“Jow?” she whispered, sleepily, since it was already the middle of the night.
“Docinho...”
“Are you drunk?” she asked in a whisper. I heard her closing a door; why was she whispering? “I asked you not to come after me if you couldn’t give me what I wanted.”
“Are you with Marta?” I asked, feeling my heart dance like a teenager’s. “Your voice is so perfect, you know?”
“It doesn’t matter where I am, Josiah,” she growled, sounding angry. “Don’t call me, please! It’s already hard enough without you doing this.”
“What’s hard, my love?” I asked, smiling at her huff. Even my cock perked up and hardened at that irritated sound from my Docinho’s throat.
“Forgetting you...”
I remained silent, just sipping my drink. And Ana did what I knew she was the only one who could do: Docinho took my heart between her fingers and squeezed it. But I knew I deserved it...
“You told me not to look for you unless I could only give you good feelings, but can I look for you as a friend?”
“No! There’s no friendship for now. Just hearing your voice destroys me,” she confessed, sounding like she was holding back tears. “Don’t come after me unless you truly want me, Josiah.”
“I miss you... I wake up and look at your house, like I’ve done for the past years, but you’re no longer there, taking care of the place, shaking our daughter, or irritated, closing the curtains in my face,” I murmured, feeling my chest tighten and my throat choke up. “I want to be what you expect. Forgive me, Ana! For doubting your love, your fidelity, for hurting you, for doing so many wrong things. I know the fault for our breakup was mine, entirely mine.”
And tears and more tears flooded my face. My chest ached with so much sadness because I didn’t want to lose my woman again. I didn’t want to let her slip through my fingers once more.
“I’ve already forgiven you, Jow,” she said, while I could hear her turning on a faucet. “I’m open to you, but only in the way I said...” A sweet, unmistakable little voice came through the other end, sleepily whispering “mommy” and preventing Ana from finishing her sentence. “I have to hang up. Stop drinking and get some sleep so you can take care of our daughter tomorrow. And don’t keep calling me unless it’s something serious about our baby.”
“I love you, Docinho.”
“I love you too, my love!” she said, her voice choked with tears, bringing a faint smile to my face with the way she called me. “Now you’ve got two months and two weeks!”