Chapter 3
The live broadcast interview was still airing on TV.
For a split second, Rodney seemed lost, like he was somewhere else. But he quickly slipped back into his usual blank expression.
He said, "Yes, I was married once. It was an immature decision, and we got divorced after a week."
Estelle put on an exaggerated look of surprise. "Who would have thought Mr. Aguirre was into the whole whirlwind marriage and divorce trend? But what did you mean by 'immature decision'?"
Rodney explained, "It was a business marriage; no real feelings between us. We just didn't click.
"I remembered some things, and she went abroad to chase true love. She was luckier than me. So we ended things pretty quickly."
He smiled casually, making a joke. "We're still friends now. She came back to the country last week with her husband and kids, and we had dinner together."
"That sounds like it all worked out for the best," Estelle said with a smile. "Is this young woman in the photo your ex-wife?
"We hope this doesn't cause her any trouble. This photo has been circulating online for a long time, and everyone thinks you two look perfect together."
"No, that's not her," Rodney replied, shaking his head. "I don't know how this photo got out.
"This is me when I was younger, with my girlfriend at the time, taken in Avalon. She was studying there, and I flew out to see her all the time."
His expression grew distant but gentle as he recalled those memories.
Online viewers were stunned.
Someone commented: [Wait, I never expected that. His first girlfriend and his ex-wife are actually two different people?]
Another echoed: [Even the deepest love can't beat reality, huh? Rich people still have to do arranged business marriages?]
A third commented: [The look on his face when he talks about her is so nostalgic. It's nothing like how he talked about his ex-wife.]
"We've got a viewer question coming in now, and we hope it doesn't offend you," Estelle said, raising her iPad.
She said, "Mr. Aguirre, did you break up with your girlfriend because you were about to get married for business reasons? People can't resist a juicy rumor, huh? Can't wait to hear what you say."
"No, that's not it." Rodney smiled, but the expression was forced, and he looked almost pained. "I broke up with her before I even decided to go through with the arranged marriage."
I was peeling an apple, the skin coming off in one long, unbroken strip.
It was true. After the car accident, he had remembered everyone. Everyone except me.
He said he hadn't just forgotten who I was. He had forgotten what it felt like to love me.
He had sounded almost annoyed when he said it. "I'm sorry, Ms. Perkins, but I really can't get engaged to someone I don't have feelings for."
There was a cruel honesty in his voice. "If this were just a business marriage, maybe it wouldn't matter if I lost my memory or not. But we were together for love."
He said the word "love" with a teasing smile. "You wouldn't want to marry me without love anyway, right?"
I took a bite of the peeled apple.
He was right. I wouldn't.
*****
All of our engagement plans with Rodney were put on hold, and there was no telling if we'd ever be able to start them up again.
The car accident he had been in wasn't serious. He didn't even have a concussion.
Rodney had just suddenly forgotten all about me.
That day, he had cooperated with countless tests, all of which came back normal, so I brought him home.
When we got home, he grabbed his clothes and went straight to the shower, like it was second nature. I sat in the room, nerves twisting in my stomach.
Rodney came out, saw me sitting at the edge of the bed, and stopped in his tracks.
He smiled and said, "Ms. Perkins, considering our situation, I'll sleep in the guest room tonight. And please knock before coming in. Right now, you're just a stranger to me."
I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms, but I still managed to answer, "Okay."
My eyes burned, and I couldn't help it. Since I met him, he had never made me feel hurt. So even a light comment like that was hard for me to take.
Rodney looked suddenly annoyed. "Was I always like this with you? You're going to cry over one wrong thing I say?"
I looked up in shock. He was already buttoning his shirt, and when he noticed me watching, a sarcastic smirk appeared on his lips.
He said. "Ms. Perkins, if you're not comfortable with this, I'll move out. You can have the apartment.
"That way, I won't risk saying something else that'll upset you."
He closed the bedroom door behind him. The sound wasn't loud, but it sent a sharp pain through my chest.
I opened my mouth, trying to say something.
But the man who had always listened to me so patiently was already gone.
I murmured, "But you're the one who told me..."
You were the one who said I should never hold back around you.
I had always been good at holding things in, ever since I was a kid.
I had held back the pain when kids threw rocks at me and called me a jinx.
I had held back the humiliation when boys in middle school made cruel comments about my body, saying I was dressing to seduce people.
I had held back the helplessness when my grandmother got sick in high school, and all I could do was study and work to make money.
I had sat in the library studying, desperate to see my grandmother, but I couldn't. I had to get the scholarship. I had to keep my grades up.
When tears started to fall, all I could do was get annoyed. They were just a nuisance, messing up my study time.
It was Rodney who had walked by and tossed me a pack of tissues, telling me to wipe my tears.
It was Rodney who, when we were together, would grin a little when I cried during sex and say, "I'll never make you cry anywhere else but here."
It was Rodney who, when a senior stole my work in college, helped me gather evidence, pulled strings to file a report, and then told me casually, "Kathy, I won't let you put up with anything ever again."