I sat up in my makeshift bed, finishing the last of my chocolate as Mitta dug around in her bag for something.

My phone.

I’d almost forgotten about it. Yes, I’d been watching the clock all day, imagining what would have been happening if I hadn’t run, but I’d almost forgotten that my phone was sure to have been ringing constantly, now with countless panicked messages just waiting for me.

I didn’t want to check it, but I had to; it would drive me crazy if I didn’t. I reached around to the front seat and fished around for my purse.

“Well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning, Marg.” Marg?

“Good night,” I replied, not really paying attention. I found my phone and pulled it out, my heart beating out of my chest as I turned it on.

57 missed calls.

29 voicemails.

78 unread messages.

I opened the messages first and scrolled through them quickly, barely reading, barely registering what they said.

Isaac. “Are you okay? You’re usually up by now.” “Margarita, you’re scaring me – is something wrong?” “Please answer me.” “Your mom is saying you’re gone? What’s she talking about?” “It starts in an hour – please come back.” “Margarita, please.” “We can call it off, just please come back.” “I love you.” I love you. How could so few words be so wonderful and so painful at the same time?

I went over to my voicemail and opened the first message from him. I had to hear his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It’s 10 o’clock now, and I know you never sleep this late, so I was just checking to make sure you’re… you’re okay. I love you. Call me back?” I could feel the tears pressing at the corners of my eyes. I had to leave. He didn’t give me a choice, but something in hearing his voice made me feel like I’d made the wrong one.

No, no I needed to do this. I was being swallowed alive with him.

I went back to my messages.

Mama. “Where you go?” “Mija.” “Mija answer.” “This is your choice?” “Listen to message.” I opened my voicemail and found one message – just one out of 29 – from Mama, timestamped 11:28 a.m. I knew I’d regret it, but I hit play.

“I gave you choice. You know this is choice, yes? If you not here by wedding, you are not my daughter. That what you want?”