Page 19 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

“I can only imagine,” I say as I sit down on the cool sand, wrapping my free arm around my knees. “Sorry to take up your time. I’m sure the girls are nervous.”

“No, don’t worry,” she replies right away, and I can almost picture her: dressed in her sports gear, in her bedroom, going over the players’ physical condition. “You know I could use a little rest. I was just reviewing a few things.”

“No matter how much you go over it, you’re not going to improve our players’ fitness. We’ve given it our all; now it’s up to them to do the same on the field.”

She laughs, and I smile. Ingrid has always had very strong habits, that iron discipline I admire so much and that, back then, helped me put all the bad times I’d had with Lidia behind me.

“Did you get there okay?” she adds with genuine concern.

I look at the sea in front of me. Dark. Endless. Much calmer than the whirlwind inside my head.

“Yeah… more or less.” I pause briefly, searching for the right words. “It was absolute chaos. Crowded airports, endless waits, the desperation of trying to find a ticket for the ferry… In the end, I managed to get the last one of the day,” I explain in detail, “but I think it was the worst trip of my life. The sea was rough, and I couldn’t stop thinking that at any moment I was going to end up throwing up in front of everyone.”

Ingrid laughs softly, with that low, warm laugh that always manages to relax me a little.

“Did you get really seasick?” she asks curiously.

“I was about to make a scene,” I confess, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly as I say it.

“I would have loved to see that,” she jokes affectionately.

“You’re terrible,” I reply, though I can’t help but smile.

“I know,” she replies, a smile clearly in her voice. “But tell me you survived and didn’t have to call for help.”

“Barely,” I admit, and we both laugh. For a few minutes, everything feels simple, light, and familiar. We talk about the trip in more detail, about how tired I am after so many hours of waiting, about how much I need a full night’s sleep without interruptions, and about how beautiful the starry sky looks from here, as if the stars wanted to make up for such a horrible day.

And for a moment, truly, I forget about Lidia.

Until Ingrid asks the inevitable question, the one I’d been dreading myself.

“Have you thought about when you’ll meet up with Pablo?” she says casually. “I’m sure he’ll be in for a huge surprise when you suddenly show up.”

My laughter gets stuck halfway down my throat. I look out at the dark sea, swallow hard, and, as always, let the truth come out unfiltered, unvarnished.

“I was the one who got the surprise when I ran into Lidia,” I confess in a low voice. “I knew we’d see each other, but damn, not right after I got here.”

I don’t like the silence that falls on the other end of the line at all, and I wonder if I was wrong to tell her so matter-of-factly.

“Wow…”

I’d like to believe that nothing’s wrong, that the idea of what might happen doesn’t bother her, but I can’t help being on edge.

“Yeah, well,” I add, trying to downplay it even though I know it’s pointless. “It was… completely unexpected, and I didn’t really know how to react.”

“I understand…” she replies slowly.

Another pause. This time a little longer.

“Maybe you should have waited a week. That way I could have gone with you,” she blurts out suddenly, and her voice takes on that insecurity I rarely hear in her. “That way I would have met her and, well… you wouldn’t be alone. I wanted to believe you’d gotten over it, but it’s clear it still affects you.”

“What?” I ask, needing to make sure I heard her correctly.

The comment leaves me completely thrown off balance. Not because she isn’t right in what she says, but because of how she says it. I catch a glimpse of jealousy beneath the surface, and it’s something so strange in Ingrid that I don’t know how to react. So I stay silent until I find a way to continue the conversation.

“Ingrid…”

“What?”