The second I wake up, I remember that today is my prince’s birthday. The sky is a shade of foggy gray that seems to glow like polished silver, and I know I should try to look pretty and happy but I don’t think I do.

I’m…tired.

But I take a shower.

Be proud of me.

I wash my hair and brush my teeth and make my bed and eat breakfast like a big girl.

Be proud.

I search my closet for something cute to wear and end up torn, trying to figure out what Kattar would actually consider cute since I can’t trust my own taste, and I don’t have any friends to text for advice but Melissa, who has already verified that she won’t be any help.

What do I have in here that’s closest to the red dress, but not the pink dress?

I don’t really want to wear the wrap dress again, or my leather skirt, but I find a lacy strapless cami top and a pink skirt to go with it. 

They’re not the same shade of pink but hopefully, his male eyes won’t be able to tell.

ha…

I almost succeed at trying to smile.

But I don’t.

Then I grab a cardigan to wear over top of the rest of my fit since I still have to go to work today, and the last thing I want is more commentary from Mrs. Howard.

Black shrouds the sweet flowers of our…

Deep…deep breath.

I don’t even try to put on makeup since Kattar says I’m bad at it, and I really want him to think I’m pretty today.

The start of our last year, being young together.

Who knew numbers could be so scary?

I knew. 

I’ve been wanting to rewind since I was 13.

29, 49, 17, 12.

We’re always in a hurry to rush ahead and then afraid of where we find ourselves

Life is marching forward through a fog until we plummet into the black for good. 

Sighing at the mirror, I tie my hair up into a neatish ponytail, leaving a few chocolate-colored curls to hang down around my face.

I tend to avoid ponytails in general, not just because I’m bad at them.

But because they're a little too J-Lo, and that’s a little too much like Natividad. 

But my Kitty Kat thinks they look pretty, so I might as well go all in.

I put in earrings…

Actually, I think these are Kat’s earrings that I ‘borrowed’ and never returned. I should probably give them back to him sometime tonight…

I can’t help but smirk a little at the mirror, albeit exhaustedly, as I imagine the look on Kattar’s face when he realizes I was brazen enough to wear my stolen goods in his presence.

Those earrings look awfully familiar…

But for some reason, my smile feels crooked and gross. And that just makes me want to cry…

It’s too much, just realizing that so little is all it takes.

There’s a thickness in the back of my throat, and I try to smile it away, but I don’t want to smile. And that makes it worse. Trying to smile shouldn’t…

I just turn away from the mirror and tell myself to hurry. Get to work.

In one piece, if you can…

I know Mrs. Howard can tell I’m miserable as she goes over the beginning of next month’s schedule, but I don’t bother trying to hide it. 

I’m saving my energy for Kat. 

And for some reason, today, Mrs. Howard doesn’t even try to comment on it, pretending she doesn’t notice my expression, or maybe she can’t see it, as she keeps her eyes glued to her laptop screen and talks nothing but business.

“Still Life received an unforeseen schedule change from the higher-ups at their parent company, ‘Ms. Eltoe,’ who want them to postpone your featured issue to do an anniversary anthology in its place. Apparently, the magazine’s 5-year anniversary is next month so there was a last-minute change of plans. Rather…unprofessional, I think,” she laughs a little uncomfortably. “But you’ll still get your issue, just a bit later than intended. They want to move the interview to next month.”

“Alright.”

I don’t have it in me to say anything else.

“Meanwhile, Arthur Rose has arranged for your walk-through at three p.m. this Thursday, if that time works for you.”

“Three p.m. is fine,” I say to the floor. “I’ll be driving directly to the museum because I want to pick up a friend...”

The word has turned rancid. Somehow, in just a few weeks, it’s abracadabra-d itself from warm sweetness into a noxiousness on my tongue.

“He’s um…going to give me some advice on the set up for the exhibit. Is that okay with you?”

Emelia is staring in my direction like she’s trying to see my face. I can tell, even with my head down, by the way her weight rests on her elbow that’s leaning on the desk. 

Now I think she’s shaking her head.

“Um…yes. Yes, that will be fine.”

I nod slowly.

“I’ll just let them know you’ll be bringing a friend-”

“How did you know my friend was in a wheelchair?”

I…

…Don’t know where that came from.

I didn’t even realize I was still wondering about that, but now I need to know. 

I need to know.

I look up at her now, and I know I’m glaring but I don’t even want to try to fight it, as she locks eyes with me, bewildered.

“What?”

“A few weeks ago, you asked me if I was going to see my boyfriend in the wheelchair. He wasn’t in a wheelchair at the award ceremony, and you said you saw him in the award ceremony’s footage. How did you know he was in a wheelchair?”

Steady, Alicia…

Emelia sits back in her seat slowly, resting one hand on the edge of her desk as she looks down, shaking her head and pushing up her glasses, smiling something like her former crisp smile.

But this one has an anxious edge. Even as she looks up again with a serene wave of her hand.

“Well, the truth is, Miss Palmero, I recognized your friend in the award ceremony footage because my daughter is a fan of his,” she sighs as she says that, her eyebrows furrowing almost like she’s wincing and she rolls her eyes. “That girl has made me watch every one of those terrible movies he’s in and spends all her allowance every time one comes out. Watches his live streams every Saturday too. It’s just a miracle nothing new has come out recently, or she’d be blowing the budget she wanted to save up for her dance troupe’s performance camp…”

I’m going to boil over-

It takes everything in me to stay seated, gripping the hem of my skirt until my knuckles turn white and I’m so infuriated I almost choke on my silence.

She can’t. can’t say that-

Take it back. Take-

I have to admit, I’ve never liked Kattar’s movies myself but this. This woman. She knows…

She knows why he hasn’t - he can’t make any new ones.

And she’s glad?

Is that even…I...can’t…

My tears come so furiously and ceaselessly that I don’t even try to resist them, and it’s all I can do to get through the last ten minutes of the meeting and out of the office without running into anything or exploding.

I’m literally shaking…

A miracle?

This is what she calls a miracle?

Is it a miracle that my boyfriend, my best friend, can’t even walk anymore, lost his dream job at the snap of a finger and it’s just gone-gone forever-?

Miracle…

Just so her kid can’t annoy her with a couple dozen stupid movies and spend her allowance on merchandise to support my boyfriend’s career.

Is that as much as his life matters to her?

Why doesn’t she try living our miracle?

Take a step inside my miracle. I dare you.

See if you can ever sleep at night. See if you don’t wake up sweating. See if you don’t see bloodied faces and emergency rooms every time you close your eyes, living inside my miracle.

Alicia - it could have been a mistake- a slip of the tongue-

Nobody should be allowed to make mistakes like that.

It’s stupid mistakes like that that are the reason he’s never going to be able to live his dream again - That he’s - stuck - in a wheelchair - stuck on medications or in pain - or on medications and in pain - that everything we’ve ever wanted is falling to pieces…

And it’s my…stupid mistakes like mine…like me…my fault…

He can’t really mean he doesn’t want to take things back. That’s not possible. How could he possibly not want everything to go back to before this nightmare ever s-

Kattar’s ringtone begins playing, my phone exploding with his texts I can’t check as it rests on the passenger’s seat, and I pull out of the parking lot, trying to see the road through my angry tears.

I shouldn’t be driving right now. 

Pull over.

I should have been the one paralyzed. I should have been the one who got the brunt of it. It’s not fair that my Kat…my…would lose everything because of my stupid, stupid…

I need to pull over.

I caused this.

I ruined everything for him, and I have the audacity to try to force him to love me-?

Pull-

I am absolutely blind from the saltwater in my eyes, and the light snow starting to fall - smearing itself across the windshield as I turn off the highway, and I…

Almost.

…Over.

Alicia…

…Wish I would crash.

But only almost, for once.

Pulling over to the side of the road I rest my face on the steering wheel, letting it be baptized in tears.

I’m gonna be okay. I’m gonna be okay.

Where did that come from?

Oh.

I remember…

There haven’t always been only…

…These horrifying voices…

But others-

When Papi picked me up off the sidewalk after I’d tripped and skinned my knee and the blood flowed around the dirt and stones embedded in my leg - I thought nothing could ever hurt like-

You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay…

When Andrew sat beside me on the sidewalk, because I’d forgotten my key, the doors were locked, and Mom was who knows where. We had to wait for Tia Maria to bring us the spare key - let us inside, so we could go to sleep - and I cried - because I’d failed him-

We’re going to be okay…

And when my…Kattar…held me to his heart, the night I told him I’d lost my mother, and let me cry until I thought I would drive him insane.

I…almost didn’t hear it.

Because he was afraid to whisper to me. To be gentle. To be honest.

But he didn’t lie.

And we’re…gonna be…

…Alright.

It’s just taken a little while.

Quality over quantity, I guess. 

I laugh a little and the sound - makes my tears come like rain-

But this rain isn’t drowning me. 

Maybe it’ll bloom flowers.