Saval lay stretched out on his bed, arms wide, gaze fixed on the ceiling. The room was silent, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing outside. His body felt heavy, every muscle refusing to move.
I don't want to think… but I do anyway. It all comes back, even when I try to ignore it.
The encounter with Antonella had left a strange knot in his chest. It wasn't just what she'd said, but how she'd said it. That tone of warning—almost like she was preparing him for a storm.
His phone buzzed beside him. He picked it up reluctantly. Semiel's name glowed on the screen. He hesitated, then answered.
—Hello? —His voice sounded more tired than he'd intended.
—You're acting weird —Semiel said on the other end—. What's wrong?
Saval swallowed.
—Nothing. Just thinking.
—You're a bad liar —Semiel replied, with a faint laugh that held no joy—. I know you.
Silence stretched for a few seconds. Saval pressed the phone harder against his ear, as if the pressure could bring some comfort.
—I saw Antonella today —he finally confessed.
Semiel's breath hitched before he responded.
—What did she want?
—Nothing, really. Said she was just here for some paperwork. But she left me with a comment I don't know how to take.
—What did she say?
Saval closed his eyes, replaying every word.
—That Santiago wasn't the only one with unfinished business… and that I should be careful who I trust.
Silence from the other end. Semiel seemed to be processing each syllable.
—That sounds like a threat.
—Or a warning —Saval whispered.
Why does it feel like she's turning me against you? Or against someone else I can't even see yet?
—What do you think? —Semiel asked, more serious now.
—I don't know. Antonella always had her games, her way of manipulating… but this time felt different. Like she actually wanted me to be careful.
—Don't trust so easily —Semiel said firmly—. She knows how to say what hurts, what plants doubt.
Saval turned his head toward the wall, finding no answers in the faded paint stains.
—What if she's right?
Semiel went quiet. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost restrained.
—Are you saying you shouldn't trust me?
The question hit Saval like a punch.
—I didn't say that.
—But you thought it.
Saval bit his lip.
I did. For a second, I did. And that second made me feel dirty.
—I don't want to doubt you, Semiel. I really don't.
—Then don't —Semiel's voice was rough, but underneath lay something raw, a wound barely covered—. Because if you start, this will break.
Saval gripped the phone tightly, as if that tension could hold together what was slipping away.
—I don't want it to break —he whispered.
—Then trust me —Semiel repeated, softer this time.
Silence fell again, and for a few seconds, all they heard was each other's breathing through the line.
—Semiel… —Saval said, voice thin—. Do you ever think someone's trying to tear us apart?
—I know they are —came the immediate reply—. And I won't let them.
The words hung there, heavy and firm. Saval closed his eyes, letting that certainty wrap around him for a moment.
But when he hung up and set the phone back on the table, the emptiness returned. He stared at the ceiling again, feeling like the shadows were forming shapes he couldn't understand.
Antonella's back. Santiago's still out there. And me, here, doubting everyone… even myself.
He covered his face with his hands, as if he could hide from the weight of those words. The world felt more fragile than he was willing to admit.