“Table nine,” she says, motioning for me to go inside.
The room isn’t exactly chaos, but it’s not deafeningly quiet either. There are families, men, women, each one of them eager to see their loved ones. I am, too, ‘cause I’ve missed Benni more than I thought could be possible, but these nerves, man—these nerves are bullshit. I hate feeling this way, hate the roiling of my gut and the irregular beat of my—
The door leading in from the inmate waiting area opens, and out comes Rodriguez. He scans the entire room, and when his gaze falls on me, he smiles knowingly before shifting his focus to the clipboard in his hands and calling them in one by one.
Benni’s one of the last, if not the last, as always. She seems genuinely surprised to have visitors, her face lit up with a beaming, beautiful smile until she sees me waiting for me, rather than her family. Her footing stalls, and for a fleeting moment, I almost think she’s going to turn back the way she came and refuse me, but she doesn’t. With tentative steps and those deep mocha irises pinning me in place, she strides over to the table and slides into the seat, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear.
We don’t say anything for several minutes as we take each other in. I’m sure she’s wondering what the hell I’m doing here, and all I can seem to focus on is not reaching for her from across the cheap plastic surface separating us.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asks, arms folding across her chest.
There isn’t a set tone to her voice, but I feel the sadness. The anger. The confusion.
“I had to come see you,” I explain, leaning my elbows onto the table.
The roll of her eyes is like a sucker punch to the face. “How did you even get in here?”
“Had to pull some strings.” I’m glancing behind her at Rodriguez as I say this.
“With who?” She sounds dubious, dark brow arched pensively.
“Rodriguez.”
Benni’s eyes bulge, head jerking back slightly. “He knew?”
I nod. “He does now, for sure, but yeah, he had an inkling all along.”
“Wow…” She trails off, sneaking a peek at him from over her shoulder. When he smirks, she turns back toward me, cheeks an adorable shade of pink.
A small yet monstrously tense bout of silence falls between us then, eyes locked throughout. All I can wonder at that moment is what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. She can’t hate me too much if she’s still sitting here, right?
“So, how’ve you been?” I press, hands itching with the need to reach out for her.
Benni shrugs and circles a finger through the air. “Considering where I am, good, I guess.”
“At least that makes one of us.” I hadn’t meant to say it. The words just made it out of my mouth before my brain could process.
Either way, she doesn’t like it, and most importantly—doesn’t buy it. “What are you doing here, Andrés? Seriously.”
“I had to see you.”
“Why? You had no problem cutting me off and leaving without saying goodbye, right?” Sucker punch number two, or maybe this is more like a swift kick in the balls.
Whichever one it is, it fucking hurts because all her response has proven is that I hurt her. I’m cringing on the inside, yet miraculously manage to keep my cool. “I had to.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrow.
“Because I was heartbroken, too, okay? I still am. I miss you so much, Benni, you don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” She crosses her arms tighter, cocking her head aside. “Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“It’s not, I swear to you. I’m sorry.”
Scoffing a laugh through her nose, she looks out the window beside us. “Sure, you are.”
I can’t say I blame her for not believing me, but it doesn’t wound me any less, shooting me forward before I can stop myself. Pulling her arms apart, I grab her hands, squeezing them in the hope she’ll feel the verity of my words.
“I am, Benni. I’m so fucking sorry. There was so much going on at that time, I had to do it. We were risking too much—me with a possible arrest if they found out about us and you with early release. I’m guessing that’s off the table now after the phone, huh?”
Her gaze drops to our hands as she replies, “Actually, no. I’m still on track. Got five months left.”
“What?” I squeeze her again. “How?”
“When I told Judge why I had the phone, it hit close to home for him. His older brother, apparently, did the same thing when he was in prison. Their mom was terminally ill, and they couldn’t afford the charge rate per phone call, much less the money it would’ve taken to go visit him. He was on the other side of the country.”
Oh, wow.
“That’s...crazy…” At the stunned lilt of my voice, she meets my stare anew and nods, lighting the flame of hope as she squeezes me back.
“I know, but I’m hella thankful for it; otherwise, I’d be looking at another year with higher deportation stakes.”
I’d almost forgotten she’s an illegal alien. “Is that still up in the air?”
Benni shakes her head. “As long as I stick to the guidelines once I’m on parole, no. I’ll be required to have some form of documentation moving forward, though.”
“I can help you,” I blurt, stupidly I should add ‘cause she’s looking at me like I’m nuts.
“Help me with what?”
“Getting your citizenship. I helped my mom study when she was getting hers.” And it’s true, I did. I helped her, and then we helped dad together. This was just a few years back, too. I was already a CO at the time.
“That’s sweet of you, but—”
“I can get you a job, too.” Remember when I mentioned my heart had other plans that I didn’t
