The Love of a Latino (18 page)

“My boy, that is where the
Cavos’ pride has to be put aside. You will do what is necessary, no? You beg if
you have to, but you convince her of what you feel here.” Alejandro patted his
son’s chest.

Lauralyn lowered her frame to
the seat on the other side, covering Alejandro’s hand that rested on Rafe’s
back. “Rafe, no one can promise you that the battle ahead will be easy, but if
you love Dahlia as you say you do, you will have to fight. You may have failed
her in the past, but you need to prove to her that whatever challenges may come
in the future you will stand by her side. That is something no one can help you
with.”

Alejandro left mother and son
holding each other while he went to find out if Dahlia could have visitors. Yes,
she could but only one. Rafe embraced his parents as he bid them farewell. Then
he went to see his wife.

Other than the beeping of the
monitor she was hooked up to, the room was silent. Rafe made his way quietly to
the bed, looking down at his wife. In sleep she was more beautiful than she was
awake. With her features relaxed, her true magnificence was evident. Hair in a
loose plait rested on the pillow, her face void of make-up, lips slightly
parted she looked at peace. This creature of essence was his wife.

Kicking off his shoes,
Raphael climbed into the small hospital bed next to his woman. Avoiding the
tube connected to her arm, he gathered her close to him enveloping her small
frame. Her head rested on his chest as he buried his nose in her curls,
inhaling deeply, loving her more with each passing moment. Dahlia was his wife,
his love, his life, his future. He would find a way to make this right, to make
her happy again, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Kissing the top of her head
he whispered,
“Te amo, mi princesa,”
before his breathing steadied to
match those of hers.

****

It felt so wonderful to be
held in his arms again. To feel him wrapped around her, to smell that masculine
scent she knew so well, to hear the steady thud of his heart below her ear.
This was how it was always supposed to be. Dahlia came awake five minutes ago
to find herself lying against a firm body. There was no mystery as to who the
man in her bed was. Her body knew only one other body this well, Raphael’s.

This was so different from
the last time she woke up in a hospital bed. The last time her husband was nowhere
around. But here he was now, holding her so close almost as if he was afraid to
let her go. Maybe she was greedy to appreciate these few minutes before he woke
up. Maybe she was selfish to want to stay like this forever. She didn’t care.
Her memories would be all she had when she was gone.

Reluctantly she began easing
herself away from him but her husband was always a light sleeper. He stirred
the moment her head left his chest. She froze when his pools of grey opened to
meet her brown ones. She didn’t know what to think as their gazes connected.

 “Amor,
you are awake. Thank God.” He whispered pulling her
against him again. How long had it been since he called her that? Not since she
lost the baby.

Pushing away from him more
firmly she inched as far away from him as possible on the small bed. Feeling
her discomfort, Rafe edged off the bed, finding his shoes and putting them on. Setting
his eyes on her he tried to decipher what she was thinking.

“What are you doing here,
Raphael?” The question eased past her dry lips.

“I do not understand. What
you mean,
Amor?
I am your husband. This is where I should be.”

The next words were never
meant to escape her thoughts, but she was emotionally raw and the desire to hurt
him was too deep to ignore. “I would think that you would want to be with
Jasmine Jordan or have you tired of her already too?”

It had the desired effect.
Guilt together with pain flashed across his face and when next he spoke it was
with the familiar note of urgency he had used just five months ago when she had
come here with his mother.
“Amor
, I am sorry that I did that, but I
promise you it is not what you think. There is nothing between me and Jasmine.”
Somehow his explanation sounded feeble…
again.

“Raphael, it doesn’t matter
anymore. Whether you are having an affair with Jasmine or not, I think our
marriage has run its course.”

“No!” He shouted desperately.
“That cannot be true! You cannot say that! We love each other. I know there is
a lot we have to work through but we can do it.” He said vehemently.

Shaking her head she stopped
him. “Some things cannot be fixed, Raphael.”

“Is it because of what I said
about the baby? Is it because I blamed you? I didn’t mean any of that,
Amor.
I only said those things because I was hurting….” Desperation crowded his voice
as he pleaded with his wife.

She broke then, her body
shaking, tears flowing freely. “I was hurting too, Raphael and
I needed you.
I needed you to hold me when I cried; to tell me that you still loved me, that
is was not my fault our baby died…” With every word she pounded her chest as if
beating the broken words out of her body.

Raphael stood close lipped at
the side of the bed wanting to go to her, to gather her up in his arms, to take
away all the pain. “Dahlia, please tell me what I have to make this right? To
have you forgive me? Whatever it takes,
Amor.
I will do. I promise you.”

“That’s just it, Raphael. I
don’t know if there is anything you can do.” Without allowing him a chance to
defend himself she carried on. “I know you think I tried to kill myself but I
didn’t. I just had a horrible headache that refused to go. Seeing you with your
lady friend in the papers only made it worse, so I took some pills to get rid
of it. Yes, I know I over did it, but I just wanted it to stop.” Drawing some
much needed breaths she allowed him to comment. He apparently had nothing to
say. “As soon as I am strong enough, Raphael, I am going home.” That drew a
response.

“No, you cannot! Dahlia, we
can work through this…” He moved to the bed, but she stopped him with a turned
out palm.

Deflated, she begged.
“Raphael,
please!
I’m tired. Can you please go now?” For a moment she
honestly thought he was going to argue some more because he had that persistent
look on his face he got when he wanted something really bad.

“Fine, Dahlia, if that’s what
you need I will give it to you but I will not let you leave until you are well
enough.” To say she expected him to give in so easy would be a lie. She had
expected him to do the Cavos thing and demand she stay. Dahlia watched as her
husband left and as the broad expanse of his back exited the door she wondered
if she had made the right decision.

****

Okay, so he had done what his
father suggested and swallowed his pride—for now! He had told her what she
wanted to hear. Right now he just needed her to get better. As far as she
believed she was going home, but if Dahlia Cavos thought that he would just let
her walk out of his life without a fight she had a another thing coming. He
would move heaven and hell before he let her go.  Dahlia was his wife and she
was going to remain his wife if he had anything to say about it. As far as he
knew he had plenty to say. Despite the trials of the day, Raphael Cavos left
the hospital a happier man. With a smile on his face he began to formulate a
plan.

****

It was a constant battle of
the mind and heart. A fight to forgive, forget and love. Desire to put the last
few months behind her raged like an erupting volcano inside her. Dahlia honestly
didn’t know what to do. Raphael Cavos was on a path of redemption. His
determination to prove his regret and his love was a permanent weakness to
Dahlia.

It started with one single
white rose on her first day home from the hospital. A simple note attached to
the stem read ‘I love you.’ Forgetting the wrongs of a man was so easy when he
was being as attentive as Raphael. To be wooed and placed on a pedestal by a
man that could have almost any woman he wanted, was enough to shift the chips
of ice that surrounded her fragile heart. Raphael was in seduction mode. He
maintained his stay at the hotel and for the first week Dahlia was truly happy
with the arrangement. When the second week began to crawl by, loneliness slowly
snuck in. The place seemed so empty without him during the day, but it was the
nights that brought her the most grief. The huge bed sometimes felt as if it
would swallow her but she couldn’t leave it. It was the one intimate link she
still had with the man she loved.

Grief, pain and anger had
consumed her so completely the last months that it blinded the hollowness of
her surroundings in his absence. Now it was pure agony. Three weeks, four days
and six hours without him and she was already feeling lost. How was she going
to survive a lifetime without this man? She would miss Lauralyn. There was no
doubt about that. The woman had brought her here and not once had she left her
alone. Lauralyn Cavos had been at her side in the darkest of hours. Even now
with her intentions to leave in two weeks, Lauralyn never once tried to
pressure her to stay. That wise woman had generously said, “If I were you, I’d
probably leave too.” A mother who didn’t defend her son’s wrong was one in a
million and Lauralyn Cavos was that one.

Sitting on the window’s
ledge, knees drawn up to her chest, palms wrapped around a cup of tea, Dahlia’s
eyes travelled across the large living room. Scattered across the chairs and
floor were the gifts her husband had been showering her with for the last
couple of weeks. The six feet, white, teddy bear that ate up the love seat
smiled back at her, a huge purple bow tie around its neck. Nearby, on a single
couch there was another, this one smaller, its fur as brown as the chocolate
bars in the basket on the coffee table. None of the presents were expensive,
but each one carried its own measure of wealth.

The light aroma of roses,
orchids and roses drifted up and around the room, and Dahlia couldn’t help but
to slowly inhale. The soothing scent of nature’s finest calming her troubled
soul. Sparing a glance at the wall clock, hanging over the fireplace, she noted
the time. Seven fifty-eight p.m. Two more minutes and the phone would ring just
as it did every night. It bothered her that she was
actually
anticipating
his call. That was not supposed to happen.

At the first ring of the
cordless phone at her side, her heartbeat accelerated. Across the screen his
named flashed. Tampering down her anxiety, she let it ring three more times
before she picked it up with trembling hands.

“Hello Raphael.”

“Buenas noches, mi
corazón.”
His voice vibrated through
her ear, slivering down her spine to the tip of her toes, reawakening her body
in that old familiar way. It reminded her so much of the first time he had
spoken in the hotel room.

Intent on not falling for his
charm, she responded in an even tone. “Good night.”

“Are you are well,
mi
amor?”

“Yes, I am fine, Raphael.”

“Bueno,
is there anything you need?”

“No, Raphael, I am fine.”
What

“¿Amor?”

“What, Raphael?” Dahlia knew
she was being cold, but she wanted to keep her guard up—to keep her heart safe.
She anticipated what he was going to say, but it shook her nevertheless when it
came.

“I miss you.” What was she
supposed to do with a statement like that?  Yes, she missed him too, but what
good would it do to say it? Missing him did not change the past. She didn’t
answer.

“Can I come home,
Amor?
I promise I will not rush you. I will stay in the spare room.” The desperation
in his voice brought tears to her eyes. She swiped at them with the sleeve of
her sweater, but she still couldn’t answer.

“Princesa, por favor.
I am only a man and there is only so much I can take.
I miss you every day,
mi amor.”
His accent was wreaking havoc with her
senses.

Moistening her dry lips, she
tried to put an end to his pleading, “Raphael,
please
don’t do this.”

“Do not do what,
Pequeña?
Do not beg for your forgiveness? Do not beg for your love? I am sorry,
Corazón,
I am afraid I cannot do that. I am a man on the edge of desperation willing to
do anything to keep you with me.”

“This will not work, too much
has happened, Raphael. And you know it.”

“Why,
Amor?
Give me
one
reason why this…why
we
cannot work!” Rafe demanded.

“Because I can’t
trust
you!” she shouted through the phone.
“You
were not there for me when I
needed you the most. How I can ever trust you to be there in the future?” She
sniffed, the tears rolling freely.

“Amor,
please do not cry. You do not know what you do to my
heart when you cry.” When he said things like this it was so hard to stay angry
at him.

“You didn’t care about my
tears weeks ago, but now you care?” Dahlia was being unfair, but she had been
hurt.