CHAPTER 4
6 days until Ari's birthday
REMEMBERING WHAT IT WAS TO LOVE
ARI
I never understood why I suddenly began dreaming about someone watching me.
Who am I kidding.
My ex-boyfriend, Liam, hurt me during our relationship; he would lose control and end up hitting me.
Not long ago, I finally understood everything, but it was already too late.
He looked for me everywhere to apologize; many times he cried just to make me feel guilty. And every single time, I believed him.
I thought there was nothing worse, but now I'm facing the hardest thing in my life. That happened after I broke up with him.
I had been recovering for a year and a half, yet I still couldn't understand whether the boy who was stalking me was actually him.
I no longer had contact with him, but the dreams wouldn't stop. Why did I never stop dreaming? Months went by, and they were still there.
The psychologist said they could be traces of trauma, but I tried to explain that the things happening in those dreams made no sense.
They were situations that never happened during my relationship with him. I tried to explain it without sounding crazy, but eventually they stopped appearing—not completely, but they no longer bothered me every day.
With time, I got better, and I could say I'm in the best stage of my life, both emotionally and physically.
Not because I'm interested in someone, but because I'm healing.
I found meaning.
It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. I stared at the closed window, and my mind played tricks on me. There were moments when I thought it was a person watching me, but all I had to do was look carefully to realize it was just the tree branches suddenly hitting the window because of the wind.
"What are you planning to say to that idiot?" Jeff was walking beside me as we entered the high school. "Seriously, you should stay away from him."
If you're wondering whether I told him what the police officer said, I didn't. I would have—if it weren't for his request that the information stay only among the people involved.
I thought everything through; I need to find out first whether Liam knows anything, but involving Jeff could be dangerous.
He said Jeff belonged to the public eye and that I should be careful about my surroundings in case someone overheard our conversations.
He also told me to keep him informed when Jeff talked to Ian about the rumor.
I understand Jeff's stance; I had the same thoughts about Liam for two years, but circumstances forced me to see things differently.
"I'll try to ask questions that could help the investigation. If you're so sure it was him, he'll probably tell me some ridiculous lie about where he was yesterday. I at least want to hear how he answers," I said, trying to convince him. He hesitated for a moment, but it seemed to work.
"Since when do you think you're a detective?" he asked jokingly, and I smiled.
"At least we should look for answers. I want answers."
I knew where he lived, but I had to prepare myself, because if during these years he had grown closer to me, I couldn't expect anything predictable to happen.
"What we should be doing is organizing your birthday," Jeff said, raising his hands excitedly, almost as if he had gotten confused and thought he was the one turning eighteen. "We have to figure out where the party will be."
"I told you—no parties and no inviting a lot of people," I replied. Last year, people ended up at my party who weren't even from our high school. I could already imagine who had invited them. "I don't think it's the best idea with everything that's been happening lately."
"Now, after what happened, you're right," Jeff said, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed expression. "I was just excited about your birthday."
"Don't worry, I'll have a good time with the usual people," I said, knowing I would only invite the girls, a friend I made in one of my classes, and Jeff. I was satisfied; I didn't need more.
"Whatever you're going to say to Liam, do it where there are people. Don't do it privately. We don't know how he'll behave," Jeff told me, still worried about me having contact with my ex.
"I'll have to talk to Ian," he added.
I was thinking about several things and almost forgot about Ian. Even he could be the culprit, but the fact that at some point he had also been my friend would hurt—I'd hate to believe he was capable of trying to hurt us.
Of course it would hurt.
"Okay, when it's break time, we'll tell each other what happened, and text me if you see anything strange," I said. He nodded, typing on his phone.
"He texted me; I'll talk to him in class. Good luck with Liam," he said finally, before saying goodbye and walking down the hallway, heading up the stairs until I lost sight of him.
I kept walking down the hallway, turned, and headed toward the classroom where Camila told me Liam was.
The beginning and the end—when we had just started high school and now that we're about to finish these three years.
I stood in front of the classroom, about to push the door open. Before doing it, I took a deep breath, gathering courage.
The moment I walked in, I felt confused stares, and soon my eyes went to one of the corners of the room.
Liam was talking with two guys, laughing softly. I froze when I saw him smile like that. I walked closer, and his friends' eyes were the first to fall on me—then Liam's.
He knew why I was looking for him, and his expression changed. He gave me a faint smile, stood up, and walked toward me.
"Do you need to talk? Isn't that why you're here?" he asked. I nodded, while a feeling of unease washed over me.
I didn't even know how to act anymore. Now that his diagnosis had come to light, I didn't see him the same way.
Could I blame him? Then who would be at fault?
"Yes, but it can't be in public," I said. He nodded, understanding. The atmosphere felt uncomfortable—talking again after all this time.
Talking about the very thing that ended our relationship.
"Let's go outside; the teacher might arrive, but I think it's important to talk," he said at last, glancing at his friends, who nodded in understanding as he left the classroom with me.
We walked out in silence, through the hallways and into the courtyard. I could feel people's eyes on us.
"Isn't that Jeff's girlfriend?" I heard a girl say. She immediately turned her head when she noticed I looked straight at her.
Liam didn't say anything until we sat on a bench overlooking the football field. We were alone; everyone else was in class, and sports practice was held later.
"How have you been all this time?" he asked once we sat down, staring ahead.
Even though I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, I kept my gaze on the trees, taking in every detail of the field. I was nervous to be in contact with him again, but this time I wasn't afraid. I felt like he wasn't the same person—but neither was I.
"I've been fine. I think I'm better than ever, but then the attack happened, and your diagnosis," I said. He nodded, listening.
"How did he take it when you told him?" he asked. My confused expression made him realize I didn't know who he meant.
"Jeff," he clarified.
"Well, when I told him, he was angry with me, but more than anything, he was disappointed. He thought I trusted him completely—and I do—but the subject of you wasn't something I liked talking about," I admitted. He sighed and turned his head away so he wouldn't have to look at me.
"Liam, I know you didn't know, and you couldn't control it," I said, knowing he probably didn't want me to see him that way.
We were going through a difficult moment, but I was the only one who received help. He had to move forward on his own.
"I hurt you with my own hands," he replied in a cold tone I didn't recognize. "I'll never forgive myself for that."
I watched him wrinkle his pants with his hands, lower his head, and bring one hand to his forehead, trying to control his tears.
"Liam, no one is to blame," I said, trying to touch his shoulder. He pulled away quickly to avoid contact.
"Ari, if I hadn't trusted people so much, I never would've been turned into a drug addict against my will, and I wouldn't have hit you. Why didn't you run away from me? Was I so aggressive that I wouldn't let you leave?"
"Honestly, I had many chances to leave."
"Then why didn't you?" he asked, confusion written all over his face. Back then, I couldn't understand myself either.
Why cling so tightly to someone?
"Because I loved you."
"You still loved me after everything I did to you? I never wanted any of that to happen. I loved you, and in my right mind, I would never even think of touching a hair on your head. And yet my hands did it against my will."
"I know, Liam."
"You should hate me," he said, standing up as if to leave. "I don't even know why I came. Our story ended. We shouldn't cross paths—for your own good."
"I can't hate you," I said, stopping him. "If you think our story ended two years ago, I won't deny it. But right now, we need to find out who's behind all of this."
"What does Jeff think? I doubt he's happy you're talking to me—especially now that you're his girlfriend," he said, turning away and shaking his head, rejecting my idea of working together.
"I'm not his girlfriend. Do you really think I'm interested in him that way?"
"Maybe your tastes changed over the last two years," he replied, stating the obvious—we had both changed in many ways.
"My tastes?" I repeated, thinking about it.
If you compared them, each of them was attractive in their own way—mostly because of their style.
Both were tall. Liam had a simpler style, short black hair, while Jeff had blond hair, dyed but still blond.
Liam had green eyes, pale skin, and tattoos on his arms. Jeff had brown eyes and no tattoos.
"Yes. What are you going to say? That I wear the same brand-name clothes as him?" he asked, almost laughing. "Women usually like that more."
"He only likes dumb girls, and I don't like him at all. He's my best friend. Nothing more."
"Women tend to lie a lot," he replied. I placed a hand on my chest, pretending to be offended.
"Excuse me? Isn't it men who lie more?" I shot back, teasing him.
To be fair, that phrase belongs more to them than to us.
"Are you generalizing?" he raised an eyebrow, amused.
"You generalized first," I held his gaze.
"I never said you were lying."
"Hey! Of course I'm not lying. You know exactly what my type is," I replied, avoiding his eyes as a group of girls walked by without noticing us.
"Give me an example, because honestly, I think your tastes changed after that guy Dylan."
I was surprised.
But since we studied in the same place, he must've seen us together a few times.
"That was because he treated me well. He made an effort to win me over," I said, remembering that Dylan had been a good boyfriend—but our story started because he gave me everything after Liam.
It was selfish of me to start that relationship knowing I still loved Liam.
But with time, I forgot and learned how to be with Dylan, until I eventually broke up with him.
The reason I started that relationship was Liam.
I cared about Dylan, but he knew I would never love him the same way I loved Liam.
The looks we exchanged when he was new in my class with other students.
Just like the first moment we saw each other, we couldn't look away. Then I looked down at my notebooks, not daring to look back, embarrassed and wondering if I was blushing, because I felt my cheeks burning.
It took us a while to meet each other's eyes again—until we had to form a group for an assignment, where we exchanged numbers to stay in touch.
I talked to Camila about how much I liked him, but my shyness around him was obvious.
Camila said he also seemed interested, but I refused to believe it. I had never had a boyfriend or gone on dates.
When it was time to text him, he took five hours to reply.
He apologized, saying he was working. Then he sent his information and asked if what he had written was okay. I said yes, and Camila insisted I try to talk to him more.
I tried asking him several things, thinking he would leave me on read or not reply—but he answered quickly and with interest.
I sent the screenshots to Camila, and she got excited with me. I remember throwing myself onto the bed and screaming in excitement, hiding my happiness in the pillows, kicking my feet back and forth.
"Why are you blushing?" he asked, looking at me, confused. "I see—so you were thinking about him."
"No, I was actually thinking… but no," I shook my head, touching my face, embarrassed. At that moment, I saw Jeff approaching us with a serious expression. I stepped forward before he could address Liam, afraid a fight would break out.
"What are you doing? I told you I'd talk to him," Jeff exclaimed, trying to move forward. I tried to push him back, stopping him from getting closer to Liam.
"Are you going to talk to him—or hit him?" I asked, noticing the built-up frustration on his face. "We're at school; you'll get in trouble."
"Does that matter?" he shot back, convinced he was protecting me.
"Of course it matters," I replied firmly.
"Let him talk to me," Liam said after overhearing us.
I looked into his eyes and, even though I knew I was making a mistake, I shook my head. But he turned his attention away from me and focused on Jeff.
"How can you be so calm?" Jeff asked, visibly angry.
"It's not that. You make things up about me. You look at me the same way everyone else does," Liam replied, making my hands fall from Jeff's shirt.
"Like a damn abuser?" Jeff yelled, furious.
"Yes. Like that," Liam confirmed, lowering his head to stare at the ground.
Just as I tried to step closer to Liam, Jeff moved first and punched him. The impact made me flinch.
I grabbed Jeff by the arm, trying to pull him away.
"Jeff! Stop! He's not to blame!" I shouted. Jeff looked at me in a way I didn't recognize.
Soon after, I explained, using the police officer García's words, that according to the diagnosis, Liam hadn't acted voluntarily.
"It's the police! They could be lying!" Jeff shouted, denying it again and again, avoiding my disapproving gaze.
I knelt to help Liam get up while watching blood run from his nose.
"How can you trust him so much—and not me?"
"Jeff…" I tried to speak while watching Liam, already standing, trying to stop the bleeding.
"I still don't understand how things ended like this," Jeff said, referring to both of us. "How much are you willing to put up with?" he asked, sighing as he held Liam by the arm.
"I trust you, but the officer told me to be discreet. They drugged Liam without his consent to make him act that way, and they destroyed evidence. They're reopening the case."
"So they'll find out who really wanted to hurt Liam? And then what?"
"You still don't trust me?" Liam asked Jeff, who gave him a forced smile.
"Don't take it the wrong way, but if the attacker is real, I'd rather you stay away from her. I don't want you to hurt her again if someone drugs you without your consent," he replied. Liam nodded.
"We'll only talk about the case until they find the culprit, and when the time comes, we'll have zero contact," Liam declared. I lowered my hand from his arm as I heard that. What was I feeling?
"Do you agree, Ari?"
"Yes. It's fine. It's the right thing," I replied. Jeff noticed the seriousness in my expression.
"I'm leaving," Liam announced, looking at me with a gaze that made me feel his words held more than they said. "I'll text you as soon as Agent García has updates."
I nodded and watched him walk toward the infirmary to tend to his bleeding nose. The uncomfortable silence that followed his departure was undeniable.
"Whether it's true or not, you need to stay away from him. The attacker might think you're still close to him, and that's why we were attacked," Jeff said. I could only nod, swallowing hard and holding back tears. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"I don't see the need. You've already made the decision."
"Ari, I'm just protecting you."
"I know, Jeff… I know," I said, looking in the direction Liam had gone.
"If he loves you, he'll walk away and make the best decision for your sake. He needs to prove it."
"I know he'll walk away. It's been a long time, and I know how he acts—and he'll know how to read me too," I tried to smile, accepting that things would be this way. "I don't doubt he will."
"He's still your weakness," Jeff said, stepping closer as he looked at me intently. "And you're his."
The two of us… but the love I feel for him is different from the one he feels. Isn't it?
"Why is he still relevant?"
"Because you still love him."
"But it's been two years," I replied, as if that made it absurd.
"Some loves last many years," Jeff said. "But he's not for you. That's why you drifted apart."
"But neither of us wanted to drift apart."
"I mean that there are inevitable things, no matter how hard you try to avoid them."
I stepped away to look at him and silently shook my head. It was too unfair.
"No one was there for him, and I want to be there now—even if it's too late. I don't care if there are no feelings left."
Jeff said nothing as I hurried toward the infirmary.
I opened the door, expecting to find the nurse, but she wasn't there. Only the lights were on, until I noticed Liam sitting on an exam table, holding a first-aid kit, trying to treat himself.
I sat beside him, grabbed a box, and took an alcohol ointment to clean the blood running from his nose and mouth. Before I started helping him, he looked at me and let a tear escape.
"Don't do this. Let's stop acting this way," he said. I lowered my hand, afraid of the words I knew would hurt me. "What we had ended a long time ago."
"I just want to help you. That's all," I said. Even though he pulled away, I managed to start cleaning. "Stop moving. If my touch bothers you so much, I'll do it just this once—because you really need help."
He didn't say anything. I hurried so there wouldn't be any trace of blood. Then I took an ointment for the scratches on his nose. He groaned; it stung.
I lowered my hands when I finished and realized how close we were. His gaze settled directly on me, and to avoid returning it, I lowered mine as I put everything away.
He took one of my hands and began turning it, examining my scar.
"You didn't do this," he said, so I wouldn't think he had caused it. "That happened when I was little."
"The fire where your parents were, and you?" he asked gently, remembering.
I nodded without discomfort. My biological parents died in a fire, and I was adopted by my mother's brother, who had just gotten married. His wife—my adoptive mother—didn't want children so soon.
"Yes. You remembered."
"It's not like you're easy to forget," he smiled, then lowered his gaze, as if regretting saying it. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes," I replied, looking at him attentively.
"Did you forgive me, or are you still afraid of me?"
"The fact that I'm helping you says a lot."
"If you had never known about the diagnosis, would you still hate me?"
"I never hated you, Liam. I suffered—I won't deny that—but I promise you I got over it."
"Did you really? Truly?"
"Would you act aggressively right now?"
"No, I wouldn't."
"That's enough for me," I smiled sincerely, and he smiled too.
"Thank you, Ari. Thank you for everything," Liam said. I nodded.
My phone rang with a call from an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, but answered and put it to my ear.
"Ari?" a distorted voice asked.
It was the same boy who attacked me. His voice had the same masked sound. I lowered the phone and put it on speaker.
I looked at Liam, and by his expression I knew he was scared too.
"How did you get my number?" I asked.
"It wasn't hard… you gave it to me yourself," he replied with a low, mocking laugh.
My breathing quickened. I gave it to him myself? Then Officer García was right. I knew this person.
"Why did you call me? What do you want?"
"It offends me that you talk to me like that… I'd like you to treat me the way you treat Liam or Jeff. You seem to get along so well with them."
A chill ran down my spine. Was he listening to my conversations?
Liam grabbed the phone from my hand, gripping it tightly.
"Why are you bothering her now? Didn't you want to hurt me?"
There was an uncomfortable silence before the voice answered, this time icy.
"I should've killed you when I had the chance… but I didn't want to risk it."
A knot of terror tightened in my throat.
"Why are you doing this to us?" I asked, my voice shaking.
The stranger sighed, as if my fear amused him.
"Don't you understand? I'm doing it for you… only for you, my dear Ari."