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The house was quiet when Alejandro walked in, no music playing, no sound of her singing echoing through the halls, no scent of spice in the air drifting from the kitchen. It’s dead silent and it’s what unnerved him as his hand went to the pistol at his side, trepidation creeping up his spine as he set his bags down and closed the door behind him. There was no way the cartel would actually have the gall to make an attack on his home. Still, it was always a possibility. He moved with silence and grace, eyes drifting up the hallway as he came to the door that led into the kitchen. He paused beside the frame, inhaling once, twice, before shifting into the room, eyes scanning furiously for any sign of struggle or enemy. There was none and he continued his way through the kitchen, taking note of the lack of food on the table and stove. He turned the corner around the refrigerator and saw her there in next room, laying on the couch.
Relief bled into him as he let his hand fall from his gun, stepping with a force that let her know he was home as he crossed into the next room and sat beside her on the couch. “Mi alma?” he murmured, resting a hand on her back. “What’s wrong?”
She said nothing at first, expression rather blank, then she lifted a small white stick with a blue cap and muttered, “It’s negative.”
Alejandro looked at it, taking it from her to see with his own eyes, hers coming into focus as he gazed over it; he can see how much it affects her. “Mi alma,” he started, and that’s when her expression crumbled, lips turning down, eyes filling with tears.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she lamented. “I keep tracking my ovulation and periods but I can’t get pregnant.” Her eyes fell on him. “Ale, what am I doing wrong?”
It broke his heart and he set the test on the coffee table, managing to use up the six inches of space she left him to fold himself around her. “Mi alma,” he comforts. “It’s not your fault.”
Alejandro knew how badly it affected her. The comments from his family at the recent get togethers had stuck with both of them. No se están volviendo más jóvenes, ustedes dos. ¿No deberías estar tratando de tener un bebé a estas alturas? Has estado casado por cinco años. They had sat down that night and started discussing whether or not they’d even wanted to start trying. Alejandro lived a dangerous life, death was never out of the question, but he’d always wanted a family, and she herself had always wanted to be stable before kids. They were in a position now to have one, and since the get together, they’d tried and tried and tried and tried, yet, nothing.
“But it is,” she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. “I’m the one who’s supposed to get pregnant, and I can’t.” he felt her shake slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to give us this.”
“Mi alma,” he said firmly, taking her chin in his hand, lifting her head to stare into her eyes. “No me casé contigo porque quería hijos.” He stroked her jaw with his thumb. “I married you because I love you. And if we never have children, I will still love you.”
Tears started to drip down her cheeks and onto his hand. “But I want to give you children, Alejandro.”
“I know, and I would love to have a family with you, mi alma,” he replied. “But I do not value you as a wife or a woman by the ability to have children.” Alejandro’s gaze softened. “I value you for so much more.” He gently brushed her tears away. “We will keep trying as long as you want to. But I will still love you even if you say no more trying.”
Her lips wobbled and she begged, “Sure you won’t be upset?”
Alejandro smiled at her. “Prometo que no me molestaré.”
She nodded, quiet for a few moments, then she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t make dinner…I wasn’t feeling good.”
“No worries,” he murmured. “Lay here, I will make us something.”
As he rose from the couch, she grabbed his pant leg. “Alejandro?”
“Sí?”
“I love you.”
He bent down, kissing her head. “I love you more.”
***
“Thanks for seeing me on short notice, Yasmin,” she thanked with a smile, the woman giving her one of her own over her shoulder.
“Of course!” she chirped. “Day’s actually been pretty slow, so I had no trouble squeezing you in.” Yasmin led her into a room. “So, what are we checking today?”
She fell silent for a moment. “I…I need you to test for infertility.”
Yasmin’s eyes widened. “Have you and Alejandro been trying?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since we saw everyone at Christmas.”
“Wow…so for a few months now.” Yasmin started looking over the paperwork. “Have you been tracking ovulation and periods?”
“Yes, with the tests and on my own personal notes.”
“Well, we certainly need to see if maybe there’s something up.” Yasmin smiled at her. “One of the ways we test it by performing a hysterosalpingography, or HSG. We insert a catheter into your uterus and inject a substance that will show up white on the x-rays. It evaluates the condition of your uterus and fallopian tubes and will show us if any blockages or problems are there.”
She blinked. “Is the fluid going to be removed or…?”
“It’ll be reabsorbed into the body,” Yasmin explained. “The procedure shouldn’t take more than an hour or two. I’ll leave and go get everything ready while you undress and put this on, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, watching her leave.
***
When Yasmin came in with the x-rays, another doctor was in tow with her, and she sat up on the exam table, heart fluttering nervously in her chest. “What is it? Am I infertile?”
Yasmin’s expression was one of concern yet confusion. “Prima, have you ever had tubal ligation?”
Her eyes widened. “Beg pardon?”
She lifted the x-ray, sharing a quick word with the doctor. “Doctor Cesar and I have both looked at this…prima, your tubes have been tied for years.”
“That’s…that’s not possible,” she breathed. “I’ve never had any surgery or procedures other than check-ups and screenings. I mean, I’ve only ever had a knee scope when I was nineteen.” Her panic was evident on her face. “I’ve never had my tubes tied. I swear.”
Yasmin turned to the doctor and said something, watching him leave before sitting beside her. “Prima, do you know of any procedure you had done that maybe could’ve caused this?”
“No!” she shouted, tears filling her eyes. “It’s not possible! I’ve never had my tubes tied! I mean I thought about it when I was twenty-one,” she explained. “But my doctor talked me out of it and got me on BC. That’s it!”
“You don’t know any—”
“I’ve only ever had a knee scope when I was nineteen and I got my appendix taken out when I—” she fell silent, the tears drying up as she whispered, “Oh my God…she wouldn’t have.”
“Prima?” Yasmin asked.
Her eyes found Yasmin’s. “I had my appendix taken out when I was eight…it’s the only other time I’ve been under general anesthesia.”
“…Who took you?”
“My mother,” she replied, then she shot up from the table, stripping off her robe to yank on her clothes. “I have to go, Yasmin. Thank you for seeing me.”
“Wait, prima—”
“Just send the bill in the mail.”
“Wait, prima, wait—”
“Don’t, tell Alejandro about this.” She warned, dashing out of the exam room with an anger in her eyes.
***
The sky was gorgeous as she stared out the plane window, replaying hers and Alejandro’s conversation in her head.
“I need to go see my mom for a couple days.”
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah…I just need to talk face to face with her.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, you have so much more to do here. I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“If you say so, but if you need me—”
“Alejandro, I’ll be okay.”
She wondered what she would say to her mother. Be angry. Be confused. Be sad. There were so many emotions dancing around in her chest that she couldn’t think of how she would even go about the conversation or even bring it up. Reclining in the seat, she lay back and closed her eyes, trying to get some rest in before landing.
***
Her mother had been slightly surprised to see her, opening the door with a smile and, “Come in, honey!”
She stepped inside the house, nose scrunching at the acrid lavender scent wafting through the air.
“Take your bags upstairs to your bedroom, dear, and I’ll make tea.”
“Mom.”
“Do you want something to eat? I know you never eat before trips.”
“Mom.”
“You must be starving. Let me—”
“Mom!” she shouted, startling the woman and she gave her an angered look.
“Don’t yell at me like that. I’m only trying to help.”
She inhaled deeply. “I’m not staying the night, mom. I’m only here to talk.”
“What?” her mom asked. “But I thought—never mind, what do you want to talk about?”
“You might wanna sit,” she said, nodding to the chair in the den.
“I’m fine standing. What did you come all the way home for?”
She took a deep breath. “I went to my OBGYN yesterday, mom.”
“Yes?”
“See, my husband and I have been trying for a baby for a few months.” She saw the look flash in her mom’s eyes. “But for the life of me, I can’t get pregnant.”
Her mom said nothing.
“So I went and they did a procedure called HSG, an x-ray of the uterus and tubes.” Her eyes narrowed. “Low and behold, I discovered my tubes have been tied. For years.”
This time, her mother faltered and she stepped back, collapsing into the chair. “Oh…oh dear.”
“Mom,” she hissed. “How could you do this to me? I was a child.”
“Honey,” her mom calmed. “You have to understand, I was protecting you.”
“Protecting me!” she shouted. “I can’t have kids because of you! Why in God’s name would you have my tubes tied at eight!”
Her mother’s expression turned grim. “We lived in a bad neighborhood, honey. It was all I could afford before your stepdad came.” She looked at her, pleading, “I had to keep you safe in case of the worst.”
She sat down on the couch. “You robbed me of a choice that was mine and only mine to make. It was selfish.” She brought a hand up to her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “How the fuck am I supposed to tell my husband I can’t give him a family because of this?”
“Honey, I—”
“You ruined my life before it even started.”
“I kept you safe!” her mom yelled. “Do you know how many nights I was afraid you would be raped while I was working?! I worked three jobs to support us! I had to leave you home alone! I did what I had to do! I saved you!”
Her jaw clenched and she glared at her mother, standing up and pointing at her. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the thirty-four years of constant contact with me, mom. Because you will never hear from me again.” She grabbed her purse, heading for the door, stopping only when her mother’s hand wrapped around her arm.
“Honey, don’t—”
She yanked her arm away, almost reaching out to steady the woman, and slung open the door, looking back to growl, “I pray that God has mercy on your soul. Because I will never forgive you.”
***
Sitting in the hotel room, she waited for him to answer, expression a mix of calm and nervous. It rang for a few moments, then he answered, a smile on his face that quickly faded.
“Mi alma?” he greeted. “Is everything alright?”
She pursed her lips. “Alejandro, we need to talk.”
He looked over the camera, shouting something in Spanish before he disappeared into his office, alone and silent. “What’s wrong? Is your mother okay?”
“Alejandro…I found out why I can’t have children.”
“What?”
She looked away. “When I was eight, I was taken into surgery for my appendix to be removed…and my mom requested that my tubes be tied as well.”
“I…I don’t understand?”
“Es...esterilización permanente. Nunca podré tener hijos,” she whispered.
Alejandro’s expression fell. “Tu madre te hizo esto? Una niña?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Mi alma,” he breathed. “I—”
“I think we should take a break for a while, Alejandro.”
“Wait, mi alma—”
She shook her head. “No, we really need to stop and think about this. We need to think about the future and what expectations the family has of us.”
His expression turned angry. “No me importa lo que esperen! Me importa lo que queremos!”
“What I want is for you to be with someone who can give you a family.”
“Te quiero!”
“But you also want children, Alejandro,” she said and he fell silent. “I know you do. I see it when you hug your nephews and nieces, you think I don’t, but I do.” She started to cry. “I want you to be able to hold your child in your arms and love them, and I can’t give that to you, but someone else can.”
Even through her own tears, she could see Alejandro’s expression bleeding into sorrow, tears in his own eyes. “Mi alma,” he whispered. “I…”
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ll give us both space to think about this.”
He said nothing , eyes on his desk and she ended the call.
***
Months. It had been months since the phone call. She hadn’t called or texted, even when he tried to talk, she gave no reply. Alejandro spiraled, spent more time at the base away from the house, barely went home and all but moved into his office. He drank. He drank a lot and while the soldiers didn’t question their Colonel, they knew something was wrong. Only Rudy knew the truth. And he only found out because he’d managed to get it out of Alejandro when he was belligerently drunk one night.
“Ella me está dejando, Rudy. Ella no puede quedar embarazada, así que me deja para que pueda encontrar una mujer que pueda.”
Rudy was stunned silent, had expected marital woes between the Colonel and his beloved wife, but nothing like this.
“No necesito que los niños sean felices. Moriré como un anciano, sin hijos si eso significa que todavía puedo estar con ella.”
“Alejandro…”
“Quiero a mi esposa de vuelta, Rudy. La extraño. La necesito.”
Rudy had had enough of it one day and walked into Alejandro’s office, catching the man stifling away a flask. “Necesitas irte a casa.”
Alejandro shook his head. “Estoy bien.”
“No estás bien. Estás borracho como una mofeta.” He glared at him. “Usted necesita conseguir un apretón.”
Alejandro glared right back, even through the drunk haze. “Soy tu oficial superior, Rodolfo.”
“Tal vez, pero eres un superior que se está poniendo a sí mismo y a sus hombres en peligro.” At that, Alejandro faltered, and Rudy walked around the desk, grabbing his shoulder. “Alejandro, no estoy diciendo esto como tu segundo al mando. Digo esto como tu mejor amigo. Vete a casa y descansa. Y tirar el licor.”
He watched the Colonel silently gather his things. “Se gracias, Rudy.”
***
He returned to the old Colonel after that. A little angrier perhaps, a little heartbroken, but no more alcohol. He spoke with Rudy more, went home every night. Ate. Slept. He forced himself back into the routine, even if he didn’t want to be in one.
His team had brought him out for drinks and a celebration at the latest clash with the cartel, managing to take back a few blocks of the city. He was proud of his team, laughing as they were sticking their heads and arms out of the window as they drove off after dropping him off at home, shouting good will and compliments on how incredible he was and how much the respected him.
Alejandro kept chuckling, jostling the keys into the door as he unlocked it and stepped inside. His hand froze over the bowl on the side table, eyes widening when he heard it. Her voice. Singing drifting from the kitchen. The smell of spices lifted through the air, warming his heart in ways it hadn’t been for a while. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. So many times, he’d come home thinking he heard her, but it was always a lie when he turned the corner into the kitchen the vision of her dancing and singing in her apron fading from his sight, a memory all it ever was.
He found his feet, stepping quietly to the door, tears filling his eyes. Oh, please don’t let this be a lie, he thought to himself.
Sometimes I forget what living’s for. And I hear my life through my front door. And Ill breathe it in, oh, I’m home again. I see my wife, little boy, little girl…hello world.
His breath stuck in his throat.
Hello world…all the empty disappears. I remember why I’m here. Just surrender and believe. I fall down on my knees. Oh, hello world.
Alejandro turned the corner, hand coming to grasp the door frame as he saw her standing there, a spoon in her hand as she stirred something in the pot on the stove.
“Mi alma,” he whispered with hesitation, and she set the spoon down, and turned to face him.
She greeted him with a smile. No more stress on her face or in her heart. He knew then that she felt the same way he did. They were all the family they needed.
“Hello world.”