Suddenly, I was on full alert, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. It was his pew’s turn to line up for communion. My eyes focused on him like a laser, but when he turned, I realized he wasn’t who I thought he was.
The guy caught me looking at him, and he looked back at me curiously. I looked away, breathing a sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure if I could deal with my blackmailer’s potent magnetism today.
“Let’s go, Kar. I have a lot of sins to atone for,” Dylan muttered under his breath.
We made our way to the line and the choir started singing “Hosea,” my favorite church song, when my phone started vibrating.
My heart skipped a beat. Was it him? I wondered if God would forgive me if I quickly checked my phone.
What am I doing? What’s happening to me?
It felt like there was no hour that I didn’t think of him. That needed to stop—stat. I grabbed my phone, gave it to Dylan, and told him to turn it off.
“You have one missed call.”
“Just turn it the hell off.”
He looked at me curiously but didn’t comment. At least it woke me up, I thought as Dylan, my dad, and I made our way to the exit when mass ended. My dad was stopped by a few people, inviting him for birthdays, asking him advice about their cars. Dylan and I hung back, waiting for him to finish. I knew I should’ve brought my own car, but my shift at the coffee shop didn’t start until after lunch today.
“Kara!”
“Tita Didi, how are you?”
Everyone called her Tita Didi at church. An active volunteer, she mainly organized events and was a loyal customer to our shop.
“I’m good! Oh, your makeup is so pretty. You have to meet my nephew. He’s pogi and single too. He’s an engineer. Good, right? I’ll set up a date between you two. You want?”
She also loved setting me up on blind dates with her nephews or cousins or coworkers. She thought being single was a disease and her mission in life was to cure the world of it. I was fond of her though.
“No, Tita. I’m still trying to get over my dead boyfriend, remember?” I deadpanned.
I’m lying in church. God would understand. Right?
She was always after me on this boyfriend crap, so I had to come up with creative ways to discourage her.
“I’m good, really. I have to go to work. See you next week!” I waved and hightailed my ass out of there. I’d wait in the car for my dad and Dylan.
* * *
In the afternoon it rained a little as I drove to the coffee shop. Free car wash, I thought. It wasn’t until I was on my break when I checked my phone again. It was my supervisor at the nursing home. Shit. I phoned her back right away and was happy when she told me the shift was still available.
It was a four-hour constant care. The patient needed one-on-one care because she was confused and at risk for falling, but my supervisor reassured me that she was an easy patient.
Some voice inside me told me I should just go home, but I felt bad turning down an easy shift.
A female’s intuition was really powerful, and I should’ve listened to it.
My constant-care patient ended up being very restless. And because I had overdosed on coffee all week to keep myself up, my brain and body were starting to shut down. I was changing my patient’s diaper when she started feeling very agitated. She was trying to stop me from closing the diaper around her hips. I should’ve seen the signs, really.
“It’s the last one, Mrs. Gonzalez. I promise.”
And because I was distracted, I didn’t see the fist coming at my face until it was too late.
After my supervisor asked me to write a report and suggested I go to the emergency room so they could check my bruise, I gathered my things and drove home on autopilot.
I could feel hot tears trying to worm their way out, but I held them off. Tears were useless to me. But I knew my emotions were brewing very close to the surface. I knew I was close to the breaking point. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep doing this. I didn’t even know what was holding me together anymore.