Chapter 2 - What We Both Want

CLEMENTINE

"What do we both want?" I repeated with obvious distaste to what he had just said. "Don't treat it like one of your business deals. I've made up my mind and there is nothing that you can do."

"Let's at least think about it."

I've been thinking about it a lot. In fact, there was nothing else I could think of. I can't even consider the possibility of giving up on my dreams right now. I'm not even in the position to quit work. It's not like I have to think about my options, because the truth is, I don't have any options.

"I have to go." I took a step back. I raised my hand when he was about to say something. "Please don't follow me."

I walked away, and hearing no footsteps behind me, it's safe to say that Sancho actually listened to what I said and didn't follow me. I was the one who said it and I meant it. I think I did, but something inside my chest was being crushed as I looked at the empty hallway while the elevator door closed. I leaned on the wall feeling weak all of a sudden.

"We can make it work, Clem. We will find a way to make it work." His voice played inside my head on repeat.

It would be a dream, but no, I know we can never make it work. He is fooling himself for thinking so.

I inhaled sharply when I realized the door to my apartment was left unlocked. I always check to make sure it is safely locked. Slowly, I opened the knob. Maybe I got too distracted and forgot to close it earlier. Walking slowly, I entered the room.

"What the hell." I whispered, looking at my scattered things on the floor like someone went rogue and rummaged through my stuff. Safety was the last thing on my mind when I ran to the bedside table and searched for the jewelry box my grandmother gave me before she passed.

"No." It was empty. Gone were her pearl earrings and her gold rings. I opened a drawer and found it empty. I had little cash saved up from working part-time and it was gone.

I didn't realize that I was crying until I saw my reflection in the mirror. The room was a mess and I looked like one. I only had so little but now it would be more accurate to say that I'm left with none. I have been raising myself since I was young, forced to grow up earlier. I always had to put on a strong front but I'm so tired.

My own helpless sobs filled the room. I've been working so damn hard. I've been trying, going to auditions, working odd jobs, and despite my best efforts, I'm still drifting farther and farther away from my dream.

I've been trying to prove them wrong, when they said that someone like me doesn't deserve to dream big. That I was cursed since I was born. I really want to show them none of it is true and I've been holding on to these promises I tell myself, but what if they are right? That there is no point to this all?

"Clementine."

I blinked a few more times to make sure it was Sancho. I have seen him earlier and yet, I miss him. I'm looking at his face, aware that this is all a dream, but I want him closer, so I held his cheek only to feel the warmth of his skin. "You're real."

I lowered my hand.

"And you're awake."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've been calling you but I couldn't reach you. I got concerned so I came here." He looked around at the scattered things around me. Not to mention I was lying on the carpet while wrapped with a blanket. He must have done this. I don't even remember dozing off. "And I was right to come here. What happened here?"

"Someone broke in." I stated the obvious. There is so much to do and I don't even have time to rest. "Sancho, please. I have a lot of things to do. Please leave."

He tried to remain calm, but it didn't escape my eyes how his jaw clenched. "You think I'll just leave you here after seeing this? It is not safe here, Clementine. The door's lock is broken for crying out loud."

I sighed, not really in the mood for another argument. "I'll make a plan once all this mess is fixed. I'll call someone to have that fixed tomorrow."

"Just stay with me."

"No." I answered almost immediately. "I'm completely fine here."

Sancho massaged his temples, ready to counter whatever I just said. "Don't be stubborn, Clem, please. You are tired. I am tired. Let's do ourselves a favor and have proper sleep tonight."

"I know what you're doing and I won't do it, Sancho."

"Okay." He raised his hand in surrender. "We won't be deciding anything. If you want, we won't talk about it. But please, for your own safety, please come with me."

"No. As I said..."

"Please say yes while I'm still asking nicely, Clementine. Don't leave me with no choice, because if I have to carry you out of here, I will do it. You're not staying in this place where you just got robbed and where the door is not even fixed."

I stayed silent, trying to weigh which one I could manage to dismiss: my own safety or my pride. If it was a matter of survival, of course I should come with him. But then again...

"Clementine." He said, and I melted with the sound of my name on his lips. "Let's go. I already contacted the police and they even suggested not staying here alone."

"When did you do that?"

"While you were sleeping."

I felt defeated. Even if I fight with myself, my own reasoning sounded more absurd the longer I listened to it. I'm sure Sancho cares more about the pregnancy, but he's right. It is not safe here.

"Let me just get a few things."

"I already did."

"What do you mean?"

"I packed a few things."

"These aren't a few things! All I needed was a tote bag full of clothes or something. Not two suitcases." He took advantage of me being stunned and placed the two suitcases inside the trunk. He had no intention of stopping nor listening to all the things I'm saying. "You're not going to make me live with you, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, he opened the car door for me. I stood my ground and refused to go inside.

"Clementine," he warned, but he doesn't own me and I'm certainly not someone he can order around. "Just two weeks, then. Stay with me until the door lock is fixed and we make sure your apartment is safe."

"Two days."

"Ten days."

"Three."

"A week and that is it. After that, I'll let you do whatever you want. About your apartment, about the baby, about us."

"Deal."

I know I won't change my mind, but this feels like I agreed to a trap.