I spent the night on the sofa in the great room and Alma went up to their bedroom. I heard their muffled voices and although I hoped Alma didn’t sleep in the same bed with him, I knew she had to for both of our sakes. I didn’t want to be in the room next door and hear what I dreaded might be going on.
Right now, I hated the situation I allowed myself to get into. I missed her so much. I wanted to be there for her, to tell her things would work out well. I had become so used to sleeping with Alma, feeling her body next to mine, and her warmth. We already had our little love jokes and pet names, she liked to be called Pussy Cat and she liked to call me, Sugarcane. I missed the smell of her hair and the salty taste of her skin. And now, lying here on, I have to admit, a not very comfortable sofa, I looked past the impossible, the inconvenience, the amorality, and could barely wait for Alvarez to be gone off somewhere, and Alma and I being back in each other’s arms. I listened to the grandfather clock tick away the minutes until everything faded into sleep.