Chapter Text
Raquel woke with a start, sat up in a matter of seconds and grimaced as the migraine shot through her brain. She needed a second to steady herself – breathe in, breathe out, calm the pain. In another lifetime it felt, she had sat with Sergio every Sunday morning and watched yoga routines on the sports channel with him, and even though she only did it for him, the breathing tricks had proven themselves to be rather helpful. Sergio, Sergio, something in her brain was ringing, something else than her migraine. She turned her head slowly, finally aware her surroundings, got a glance at the clock and– shit.
Had someone else been there to bear witness, Raquel could have actually got an entry in the Guinness World Records with how fast she leapt out of her bed. Stealing another glance at the clock (just to verify) at the same time she almost screamed. Almost. She was a middle aged, calm woman after all. Which didn’t change the fact that Paula should have been at preschool about an hour ago. Changing into a washed out pair of jeans and a simple shirt on her way through the hallway, she yelled: “Paula, Honey I’m so sorry you have to get up fast now, we’re in a bit of a hurry!” When she reached the door and pushed it open, her heart stopped.
The small bed at the other end of the room was empty. “Paula?” She yelled again, maybe her daughter had missed the urgency and wanted to play hide and seek? But a look in the closet, underneath the bed and around the corner of the room confirmed this to be wrong. Slightly panicking now, Raquel turned and sped down the staircase, taking two steps at a time and almost slipping on the last. “Paula, baby please come out, we don’t have time for this!” Nothing. Raquel methodically checked the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom in the hallway, even the laundry room. She looked into every nook and niche, behind the sofa, in one of the laundry baskets. No Paula, nowhere. Her breathing was becoming faster, too fast. Think, Raquel, think. Don’t slip into panic. Where else could she be? Had one of the preschool moms offered Paula a ride? But no one lived in their direction. It just didn’t make sense. But surely no one could have abducted her sweet baby while she was sleeping, no, Raquel had installed an alarm bell and cameras since Alberto. Slowly losing her mind, Raquel did the only rational thing left in her overwhelmed mind – she ran back upstairs to get her phone. Call the police.
Raquel’s mind was racing faster than her legs were carrying her into the room. Her sweet, sweet angel. And it was her own fault. For getting so inappropriately drunk, for losing control like this. Everything was closing, the walls felt like they were about to suffocate her, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. Her breathing coming out in shaky puffs, Raquel stumbled into her bedroom. What was she doing? Where was Paula? Was she ever coming back? Fuck, she could be anywhere, with anyone- focus. The phone. She took a step closer to the bedstand. And then she saw it.
Right next to where her phone was still connected to the charger stood a glass of water on a ripped piece of paper. Another step. Another breath, not quite as erratic as before. The scribbled handwriting seemed oddly familiar. Closer. Now she could read the content:
Morning sleepyhead, I sincerely hope you don’t have a concussion, otherwise it would be kinda shitty for me to leave you alone. Though you looked fine when I woke up and your head wasn’t bleeding or anything. You’re gonna have a terrible headache, please take the aspirin. Taking Paula to preschool now.
Text me when you wake up.
love,
Raquel’s lungs were burning with unreleased breath she’d been holding while reading and she sank down on the floor. Her shaky hands held onto the note like a lifeline. Paula was safe. She was safe and sound at preschool. She was okay. Her brain needed several minutes and many steady intakes of oxygen to properly process this.
When her hands finally stopped shaking, she started noticing the splitting headache that was thrumming in the back of her head. The bastard had been right. As soon as she had taken the aspirin and was thinking clearly again, she started piecing together all the frayed memories she had from last night.
One glass of wine.
Two glasses.
A third- the doorbell ringing.
Sergio. Sergio. Sergio.
His hands, his smile, his voice.
More wine.
It was getting ridiculous.
Excitement at a proposed idea of his. Then-
Pain. Disorientation.
Tiredness. Exhaustion.
“I got you.” Whispered into darkness. Warmth.
Raquel felt the strong need for so much wine it should put her into a coma where she luckily wouldn’t have to suffer through another conversation with the man ever again. She was angry. At herself, mostly. But a small twisted part of her brain was angry at him, too. For what exactly? For being so unbearable (unbearably hot and sweet)? For opening up an old wound that should have stayed closed? For just taking her daughter. Without her permission. For crashing back into her life like a hurricane with no regard for possible destruction when he hadn’t even properly been back in her own life. He’d had no right.
Seething, Raquel picked up her phone. Her first impulse was to call Ágata, but she would just yell at her for drinking too much and in turn discourage her from yelling at Sergio. And that was what she needed to do right now.
The line gave exactly one beep before he picked up. Classic. Ironic. He would wait for her until the end of the world had come, oblivious to how much she didn’t want him to, resented him for doing just that.
“Good Morning there, did you finally wake up? It’s been two hours, sweetheart.” Somehow, his light flirtatious chuckle only served to aggravate her more. How dare he?
“Are you fucking kidding me?” It wasn’t a yell. Not quite, at least.
The line went silent for five full seconds before Raquel ultimately snapped.
“You asshole, you literal dickhead! You scared me to death, do you fucking know what I was thinking when I couldn’t find Paula in her bed, let alone the rest of the entire house? Do you have any idea how scared I was? Did you, for once in your undoubtedly heroic plan, stop to think about how I would feel if I woke up with my daughter nowhere to be found? And not only that! We agreed, you and I, that you wouldn’t be in her life anymore, we both said it was for the best. And what do you do?! March right back in. You absolute idiot!”
Her voice felt raw, tears stung in her eyes, but she didn’t know whether it was anger or fright that had put them there. She didn’t allow them to break free.
“Don’t ever text me again. Don’t ever call me again. I mean it.”
Now she was crying. Her voice shook.
“Or I’ll call the police for good this time.”
With that, she hung up. It was over. Over. Over. She didn’t know what to do.
Raquel Murillo had done it again. She had trusted a man she had let into her heart way too easily, only to have her trust betrayed and broken.
Heartaching numbness spread through her as she walked into her room, took out a suitcase and started packing. Bras, slips, socks, shirts, pants, toothbrush, and toothpaste. A smaller, pink suitcase. Dresses, tights, toys, books.
Half an hour later she was on the way to Paula’s preschool, two packed suitcases in the trunk.
“It’s okay baby, we’re making a fun trip, you’ll see. It’s going to be amazing. We’re going to see auntie Allie!” Raquel whispered into the soft blond hair of her daughter as they left the school building together, the strawberry scent anchoring her.