Chapter Two: Mirror

    

    The soft light of dawn seeped through the windows, as night slowly slipped and early morning began, and still, I waited.

    

    I didn’t move from the couch, didn’t change out of the dress from last night. The sequins on my sleeve itched my skin, and the fabric had wrinkled under me. But I couldn’t bring myself to move. My eyes were glued to the clock as it ticked, my mind racing, several questions generating as I waited for my husband to come home.

    

    I had listened for the car, over and over, blockers and hearing aids removed, my body somehow  was still able to sense the world like it always did. Every faint noise, real or imagined, sent a ripple down my spine. The hum of the refrigerator, sound of the air conditioner, my own breathing.

    

    And then finally, I heard footsteps, my body coming alive because I could recognize those footsteps anywhere. I had taken years to master it. Before I could fully sit up, the door creaked open.

    

    Elias stepped inside, the early morning light cutting across his chest as he entered. His black shirt clung to him like the night hadn’t let him go. His jacket free and hanging loosely on his arm, tie undone. Sleeves rolled halfway up. He smelled faintly of cold air and hotel cologne. He still looked as handsome as ever, no wrinkle of hair in sight. Ever the perfect gentleman.

    

    He paused when he saw me curled on the couch.

    

    He blinked, as though surprised I was still awake. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t wait for him. Maybe he wished I hadn’t.

    

    We stared at each other for a beat.

    

    Then, after what felt like forever, he lifted his hands and signed, “Why are you still awake?”

    

    His fingers were clumsy. Like a child learning a new language. I watched them carefully, big and experienced.

    

    I sat up, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders. My reply was smooth, practiced: “I couldn’t sleep.”

    

    He studied me for a second longer. His jaw tightened.

    

    Then came the next sign: “Are you okay?”

    

    That question again. Always that question. I hated it because I could never answer it honestly. Elias always asked me, each day that passed, he always made sure I had all that I wanted, but not all that I needed.

    

    “Yes”, I lied, folding my hands in my lap.

    

    He nodded once, like that was the only permission he needed to disengage. He walked past me, heading toward the bedroom hallway, not even asking if I wanted to talk.

    

    And I wanted to scream after him, Where were you? Do you love someone else? Do you even see me anymore?

    

    But I didn’t. Because none of those questions had answers I was ready to hear.

    

     I followed after him, having no use to loiter in the sitting room anymore. We passed each other in the hall like strangers. When we reached the point where our rooms split, we both hesitated. He lingered at his door. I turned slightly, hoping, wishing he might say something.

    

    But he didn’t.

    

    Instead, he opened his door, walked inside, and closed it gently behind him.

    

    And that was it.

    

    I stood there for a moment, the silence too heavy to carry, before walking into my room and shutting the door behind me.

    

    The tears came hard and fast. Quiet, but deep. I curled into bed and let the night bury me. My dreams were a far cry from my reality. I could speak freely,hear freely, Elias loved me, Isaac could hear my voice freely.  We were a very happy family.

    

    I woke up the next morning with a headache behind my eyes and the kind of heaviness that sleep couldn’t cure. The sunlight streamed across the marble floors, bright and unapologetic. I got dressed slowly, casual jeans, a soft blouse, and wrapped a scarf around my hair. I looked like a woman going to the market, not the wife of Elias Moreno.

    

    Downstairs, Elias was already in the kitchen with Isaac. Two cups of coffee beside him. One was definitely for me, but I wasn’t in the mood. Grey sweatpants and black singlets hugged his muscles body. He was hunched over, one tattooed elbow leaning on the counter as he spoon fed Isaac. He was a very big man, but to see him hunched over feeding his son brought what should have been happy tears but were sad tears to my eyes. He never does it for me.

    

    They looked like a painting, father and son. Isaac was in his high chair, giggling at Elias. A little mess was smeared on the boy’s cheeks, and Elias wiped it gently, murmuring something I couldn’t catch.

    

    He didn’t notice me right away. He only looked up when Isaac waved at me.

    

    “Mummy”

    

    Elias turned. His expression when he saw me was unreadable. His face devoid of any emotion. He wasn’t so easy to read anymore. Ever since our wedding night. Everything changed.

    

    I took a deep breath and signed across the space between us, 

    

    “I want to go shopping today.”

    

    He paused, the spoon halfway to Isaac’s mouth, then nodded slowly. 

    

    “Carla will take you”, he signed stiffly.

    

    I added, “Isaac is coming too.”

    

    That made him look up again, brows lifting just slightly. For a moment I thought he might protest. But then he simply signed, 

    “Okay”, and turned back to Isaac.

    

    Dismissed again.

    

    I turned around and walked away, forcing my steps to stay calm. If he didn't care where I went, I’d go where I pleased.

    

    The ride to the boutique was majorly quiet, except for Issac’s happy cheers as he saw heavy cars and listened to Carla play with him. Me on the other hand I was distracted, my mind was far and full of Elias, of what I had thought to do and if I could even do it. Seeing Isaac this happy, seeing the way Elias and Isaac interacted, I lived for that everyday. 

    

    I lived to see Elias every morning irrespective of our little or no conversations, I live for the coffee he always made sure was present when I woke, of the way he holds me in public, with love, with so much need and respect albeit it being fake. It was the only time I could feel his hands on me and I lived for it.

    

    Just the thought of leaving…..

    

    We arrived at the boutique Elias introduced me to at the start of our marriage, one I frequented regularly.

    

    It was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, one I loved for its understated charm. No flashing signs, no loud music. Just glass windows, warm lighting, and soft classical music playing from speakers overhead. I let Isaac down from my arms, and he toddled happily toward a display toys and games.

    

    I wandered a few feet behind him, letting him explore as I ran my hand over the fabric. Everything smelled like perfume and luxury. The kind of place where women lingered not just for the clothes, but to feel a certain kind of worth.  

    

    Elias always made sure to send enough money to the card he gives me. It was enough for me to get anything I wanted, including a new life.

    

    The boutique was for majorly the rich and sophisticated, women usually minded their business when they come into it, no one paid major attention to me unless I was with Elias. He commanded attention wherever he went.

    

    I was checking the size tag on a cream blouse when I felt it.

    

    That pull. Like the room had suddenly tilted.

    

    I turned, but I didn’t see anyone. 

    

    I played it up to being paranoid. I used my eyes to follow where Isaac was to find him still playing with various shoes and games. 

    

    I continued my search  and felt the pull again. 

    I turned and bumped into someone skinner, her back towards me. 

    

    “Oh shit” said the voice as she turned

    

    My eyes bulged out if it’s socket, my stomach sinking. My eyes met that of another, one so similar, with similar nose, lips and face.

    

    Lucia.

    

    She stood near the window, tugging at a rack of clearance scarves like she might steal one. Her hair was a tangled mess, dyed a copper color that had long since faded. Her once-full cheeks were hollow. Her clothes looked like she’d picked them off someone else’s floor, mismatched, stained, threadbare.

    

    But her face... her face was mine.

    

    And her eyes, those same almond-shaped eyes, locked onto mine like she’d seen a ghost.

    

    “Holy sh—” she whispered, backing up a step. Her voice cracked with disbelief and maybe something else, something fragile. She turned and stared around before settling back on me, her eyes still wide as saucers.

    

    I froze. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

    

    “Maria?” she asked, her voice softer this time.

    

    I nodded slowly, and that seemed to break something in her. She laughed, an ugly, bitter sound, and dragged a hand through her matted hair.

    

    “Woah! Look at you,” she said. “ You look fucking rich, and alive..”

    

    I stepped forward, pulled out my phone, and typed:

    “You look the same.”

    

    She snorted. “Yeah, and you look like you married a credit card.”

    

    I wanted to hug her. I wanted to slap her. I wanted to cry and ask her why she left. But all I did was type another message:

    “I’ve missed you.”

    

    She looked down at the screen, then at me. Her expression twisted. “Did you? Miss me? I figured you forgot me the minute you got adopted.”

    

    I shook my head hard.

    “You left, Lucia.”

    

    Her jaw tightened. “Yeah, well. I had my reasons. Life didn’t hand me a billionaire, remember?” She was angry. She had every right to be. We were the same but so different.

    

    She glanced over and spotted Isaac behind me. He was squatting near a display of handbags, humming to himself.

    

    Lucia’s eyes widened. “That... your kid?”

    

    I nodded.

    

    She stepped closer, but something about her body language changed. She looked ashamed suddenly. Like she knew she smelled of something she wasn’t ready to name.

    

    “I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again,” she muttered.

    

    I typed, opting to explain, but then cleared it and typed instead: 

    “I want your number. Please.”

    

    She hesitated for a moment, I thought she might refuse.

     But then she stretched out her hand and I placed my phone on hers. She inputted the number and handed it over to me. I saved it immediately. 

    

    We stood there awkwardly, surrounded by racks of silk and luxury. I offered her lunch. She shook her head.

    

    “I need to sleep,” she said. “And maybe take a shower before someone calls security.”

    

    I smiled, weakly, but inside I was shaken to the core.

    

    I was finally seeing my twin after 10 years. I didn’t even have to search too hard as I thought. I had already concluded I was going to lie to Carla to help me with some of Elias’ men to do the searching. But here she was, standing right in front of me, alive. It was as though the universe was in support of my plan. I didn’t know how to feel about that. 

    

    

    As she walked away, Lucia looked back once. “You got the better end of the deal Maria, you should be proud”.

    

    Then she was gone.

    

    I stood there for several minutes until a sales girl came to interrupt me.

    

    I simply paid for whatever was in my hand and took Isaac back to the car. 

    

    I was even more distracted on our way home than I was going. Carla kept trying to meet my eyes, but this time I didn’t look back at him. I was afraid he might see all I had planned to do right through my eyes. 

    

    When I got home, the house was quiet.

    

    Elias was in the sitting room, wrapped in a black shirt that hugged his bulging hands, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, his sleeves rolled up, a laptop on the counter, his face covered in maximum concentration..

    

    Isaac upon seeing him, ran and hugged his legs. Elias face spread into a wide smile, the sight so beautiful it hurts not being on the receiving end of it.

    

    He picked Isaac up, shook him a little  in the air, eliciting giggles from the happy boy before placing him on his lap. His work forgotten.

    

    I entered slowly, setting my bag on the floor.

    

    He didn’t even glance my way.

    

    I stood there, waiting. Watching.

    

    Finally, Elias closed the laptop and shifted Isaac into his arms. “Did you have fun?” he asked Isaac softly. Isaac responded happily while I watched. 

    

    He didn’t ask me a single thing.

    

    He didn’t even say hello.

    

    I watched them; father and son, perfect in their own private world; and felt something inside me shatter.

    

    I turned and walked away.

    

    No words.

    

    No noise.

    

    No air in my lungs.

    

    I entered my bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. I reached for my phone and opened Lucia’s number.

    

    The screen glowed back at me like a decision waiting to be made.

    

    And I knew.

    

    I was closer than ever to doing what I thought I never would.

    

    Leave.