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ROGERIO
“What do you mean she left? Are you saying that just to mess with me?” I asked, failing miserably to conceal my shock.
“To what end? You’ve made a mess of everything already; there’s not much I can do in that regard, is there?” she replied, rolling her eyes and then closing them.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. “Maria, I beg you, don’t play games with me. I don’t have time for that and I…” I uttered, but she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
“Some nerve you have to come here, wake me up just before dawn, and insinuate that I would waste my time going in circles with you,” she interrupted, shaking her head.
“Why would she leave then? Where would she go? She has nowhere to go, no family…” I began to say, but María opened her eyes with a look of disgust crossing her face.
“Was that why you let your family and everyone else treat her like crap? Because she has nowhere to go?” she sneered, and I swallowed, taken aback by her harsh tone.
“Maria, that’s not…” I started, but she chuckled and let out a loud sigh.
“I don’t care about your reasons, Rogerio. You did what you thought was right, and she’s done hers. Why are you here? To gloat?” she inquired, and I shook my head in response.
“I’m here because of you,” I began, the memory of our last conversation replaying in my mind.
“Me? What about me? I’m perfectly fine, except for occasionally anticipating interference from your new bride; all is right as rain,” she answered.
“Then why did she leave? And why did you call me sounding like the sky had fallen on the estate?” I asked, still confused about Charlotte’s departure.
When we started our relationship, if one could call it that, I didn’t know much about her. There wasn’t enough time to get to know everything about her before we started planning our wedding, but she mentioned a few things. One, her parents had died in an accident, and no family member had come looking for her, so she went into foster care.
Two, after finishing high school, she had saved up enough money to move to Milan, where she worked odd jobs to earn a living until we met that night during her shift. I knew she had nowhere to go, and if she had left Maria in charge of the estate, that meant she hadn’t sold it, so she had little to no money. For some reason I couldn’t put my finger on yet. I was suddenly worried about her well–being.
It was one thing to divorce your spouse because you felt the marriage wasn’t working for either party and there was a better option at hand. It was another way to leave the said spouse out in the streets. I couldn’t bring myself to be that cruel, which was why I left the estate and whatever proceeds that came from it in her care.
Dancing into the Heart of Mr. CA
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If she had left it all and set out to start a life for herself elsewhere without any financial assistance, that would be foolish. But the question that plagued me the most was her current location. Where was she?
“I’m sorry to have disturbed your schedule with that call, Signor Thuthai,” Maria started to say in a tone I knew she only used when she was irritated. “…but your wife had come in here with some men and… wait, let me rephrase that. She came in without an invitation, broke through the gate and front door, then started renovating the place. When questioned about her foolishness, she claimed that there wasn’t any security at the gate and no one answered when she knocked on the door, so she let herself in.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she shook her head in response. “Oh, I’m not done, Signor,” she said, and I held my tongue. “She made claims that the house belonged to the new bride and had a heated exchange with Signora Charlotte, who was ill at the time.”
“Charlotte was ill?” I repeated, and she arched an eyebrow, then looked away. “Surely you don’t expect me to repeat all I just said. The memory of it alone is exhausting,” she replied, and I sighed in response.
“Of course not. I heard you loud and clear. I’m just surprised. Charlotte was hale and hearty when I left the estate,” I added, and she let out a short laugh.
“You truly are blind, Rogerio. Did that look like a healthy woman to you? You made it your life’s mission to drain the life out of her with your antics,” she responded, and I shook my head in response.
“No, I didn’t,” I whispered, but she sighed, interrupting me with a dismissive wave.
“This is very exhausting and rather boring. You never admit to a fault, especially when it’s staring at you in the face,” she said. The rays of the sun had started to stream into the room through the open windows, which reminded me of work and the meeting I needed to attend soon, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
It felt wrong, especially now that I knew Charlotte had left the estate. Perhaps if I stayed longer, I could find out where she was and make sure she was alright. But that would be the last time I’d involve myself in this.
Maria’s words had started to make me feel like Charlotte thought I hated her, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. Now that I think about it, I could’ve handled things differently, but I had been too focused on achieving my end game: creating a different life for myself. I thought she had no place in it, and now, I was starting to think the same about Elena.
“… You love to act oblivious, but I know you’re smarter than that. So stop and think for a minute. I must have said this a million times, but she was devoted to you. Everything she did was to make you happy, make you see her, love her, or at least feel something other than contempt. But what did she get in return? More terrible treatment. You were too self–absorbed to see that she was trying to build a home with you and too selfish to protect her from your mother and grandfather. You used her, Rogerio, like your grandfather, who uses everybody and everything to achieve his goal; she was merely a pawn in your elaborate scheme.” Maria’s voice pulled me out of my reverie into the present, and my face morphed into a frown as she continued speaking.
“Once you had gotten what you wanted, you discarded her like she was a toy you didn’t want to play with anymore. Everyone could see that she meant nothing to you; soon they started to treat her like that as well. She was foolish enough to fall in love with you. You’re not worthy of that kind of devotion,” she announced, and I shook my head in
response.
“Don’t say that, I…” I interrupted, but she scoffed in response and stood up, then walked to the window and stared at
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the garden a few feet away from the building. As she watched, a man, whom I assumed to be the new gardener, walked through the gate on the opposite end and started tending to the plants.
“The roses are blooming,” she said in a low tone. “Every morning, I come out here and look at them. They remind me of her when she first arrived here, full of life and ready to blossom, But you didn’t provide an environment for her to thrive. Every chance you got, you made her feel smaller and smaller until there was barely any light left in her eyes. She yearned for attention, no matter how small, and never got it. The divorce and Signora Elena’s presence would be enough to make anyone leave. I tried to make her stay, but she felt like she needed to start a new life elsewhere. I understand it; it’s what’s best for her and the baby.”
She turned around and stared at me, her face void of expression, but her eyes held a mischievous yet annoyed glint. Her last words echoed in my mind, and I stood up from my seat. In a split second, I was standing next to her. “What baby?” I asked in a low tone. She stared at me for a moment and walked away without uttering another word.
“Maria, you can’t say something like that and not explain it. What do you mean she had to do what was best for herself and the baby?” I asked.
“Was that all you gathered from what I said?” she replied and sat down before turning to meet my gaze.
“No, I heard everything, but you’re not lying to me, are you?” I asked, my thoughts darting all over the place, trying to make sense of what I had heard.
“That’d be the last time you’d call me a liar, Rogerio,” she responded in a stern tone.
“I didn’t mean it like that. All I’m saying is, if Charlotte is pregnant, I have to find her. Is she pregnant?” I inquired, waiting for a response, but she wouldn’t budge. I slapped a palm over my mouth to prevent myself from yelling at her. “Maria, I beg you. Tell me where she is,” I said when I had gotten myself to remain calm.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she added, standing up. “I can’t tell you to leave because this is your home, Signor Rogerio, but I have work to do,” she added with finality and walked out of the study.
