SirianaSims

The scent of spices still lingers in the air, mingling with the warm, dry breeze drifting in through the open terrace doors. The table in front of me is a landscape of wine glasses and the plates that once held Dave’s mouth-watering lemongrass chicken.

I fold my napkin and leave it by my bowl, which has been scraped so thoroughly clean that it looks like I licked it. Had I been alone, I probably would have.

“That was delicious, Dave. Best I’ve had outside Tomarang.”

Dave beams with pride. “The secret is in the red curry paste, I think I finally found the perfect mix. I hope you left room for dessert though, I’ve got more coming.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s the end of an era. I think dessert is justified.”

I nod solemnly. I recorded my last lines as Llama Man two days ago. Lee dropped by the studio with champagne to commemorate the occasion and I ended up with a hangover that still haunts me.

The fact that the show is over feels weird to think about. I’ve had many roles, but most of them were pretty minor and, most of all, temporary. They were just something I did for a little while, but I’ve been Llama Man for fifteen years and now, jarringly, I’m not.

Sierra interrupts my wallowing. “So, have you thought about what you’re going to do now?”

I shrug. “I don’t know yet. I still get a few gigs here and there for other voiceovers, but nothing steady.”

“What about finally going back to acting? On camera, I mean? It’s the perfect time, the show finale is going to get you some buzz, and my agent would love a chance to work with you, you know that.”

“Sierra, honey, it’s only been a couple of days, maybe it’s a bit soon to worry about what’s coming next?”

Sierra chews on her lip, clearly eager to keep going, but she doesn’t. She always says that Dave is her rock, the calm counterbalance to her temper. Some of my previous girlfriends didn’t like my closeness with Sierra, assumed that we used to date or at the very least slept together, but we never did. We would probably have strangled each other.

Julia was refreshing like that too, she never interrogated me about Sierra or seemed to feel threatened, she just took our friendship at face value.

Or maybe she simply didn’t care enough about you to get jealous.

Sierra gives me a sideways glance. “Fine, we can discuss it later, but how are you doing, really? I mean, the show ending is a big change on its own, but after everything with Julia…”

“I told you, Sierra, I’m fine. I knew the show was ending, it was announced last year. And Julia and I have been done for months, it was sad but I’m over it.”

“Are you, though? It’s just, you haven’t really been yourself since you broke up with her and…”

Dave rubs his forehead. “Honey, please, we talked about this. Let the man breathe.”

It has no effect. Even Dave isn’t enough to stop Sierra after three glasses of Soft Shadow Avornalino.

“I’m just trying to understand, though. You were happy, she seemed happy too, and the next thing I hear is that you dumped her? I don’t get it.”

“Sierra, can we not talk about this, please? I don’t want to go over it again, it’s complicated.”

“Again? You never went over it the first time! And you seemed to be doing so well, this is the longest I’ve seen any of your relationships last, so what went wrong?”

“Ten months isn’t that long, and since when do you care so much about Julia anyway? You were the one who was sceptical about her from the start!”

“I care about you, Paul! I was only sceptical because I was worried about whether she was, you know, right for you. I love you, you know I do, but you can be kind of a lot to deal with sometimes!”

A weary sigh from Dave finally makes Sierra pause.

“Sorry, Paul, that was uncalled for. I just wish you’d get a bit more, well, serious about your life, your career, everything.”

I don’t respond.

Dave clears his throat. “Honey, why don’t you and Paul go for some fresh air while I clean up in here and get dessert ready? The garden is really coming along.”

She looks at him gratefully. There’s a unspoken understanding between them that makes me feel strangely sad. I wonder if it’s something you develop when you’ve been together for as long as they have, or if the trick is to marry someone exactly because they can tell what you need without speaking. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I certainly wouldn’t know. Like Sierra just reminded me, I’ve never been with someone long enough to find out.

I catch myself staring at them and quickly look away. I’m not really superstitious, but all Tartosans grow up learning about malocchio, the evil eye, it’s habitual. My grandmother always said that you’re not supposed to look at someone with envy in your heart, or you might curse them, even if you don’t mean to.

Maybe I’m cursed. If anything invites envy and jealousy, it’s fame. Maybe that’s why I keep fucking things up, why I’m never satisfied. It would almost be a relief to be cursed. At least then it wouldn’t be my own damn fault.

Dave starts clearing the table, and both Sierra and I get up as well. She looks at me apologetically, but I walk outside without waiting for her, into the neatly kept garden.

It’s the height of summer, and the chorus of cicadas fills the air, a rhythmic, comforting hum that blends seamlessly with the faint sounds of water trickling from a small fountain. It’s hard to believe we’re in the desert, the entire neighbourhood is like a carefully crafted oasis, each house more exquisite than the last, all lush gardens and towering palm trees.

I sigh, looking up at the dusky sky. Behind me, the sound of gravel crunching under Sierra’s feet mixes with the soft clinking of dishes coming from inside the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Paul. Dave did tell me not to bring it up.”

“I was planning to propose to her, you know. How’s that for getting serious?”

“What?”

“Yes! Bought the ring and everything. But luckily I came to my senses before I utterly embarrassed myself.”

For the first time in all the years I’ve known her, Sierra is speechless. She simply stares at me, wide-eyed, and I realise that I must look deranged, my face contorted by grief and fury and shame, my chest heaving.

I feel a burning sensation in my nose and her face softens. She pulls me into a hug and I let her do it, like so many times before.

“For fuck’s sake, Paul.”

I hold back, not wanting to crush her under my weight, but she pulls me closer, insistently, until I relax and lean on her.

“I’m such an idiot.”

Sierra says nothing, she just rubs my back in gentle circles and I feel my anger slowly dissipate. She finally lets me go and cups my face with her hand.

“Paul, look at me. Do you regret leaving her?”

Desperately.

“No.”

The word leaves my mouth automatically. I’ve thought about Julia every single day, but each time my finger hovers over her name in my phone, I get overwhelmed by a feeling of dread I can’t quite put into words.

Admit it, you’re just afraid that she’d reject you the way you rejected her.

“Sierra, am I just meant to be alone? Is there something wrong with me?”

She snorts. “Nope, you’re perfect, that’s your whole problem. You could have anyone, you just can’t make up your mind.”

“She’s the only one I ever wanted like this.”

She shrugs. “You have a strange way of showing it, then. But if you really don’t regret it, I guess it must have been the right call.”

There’s doubt in her voice, like she knows I’m lying.

“It’s for the better, Sierra. She doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life yet, she needs time to figure it out.”

“Maybe she could have figured it out with you.”

I hadn’t even thought of that, but I reject the idea immediately, it’s too painful. “No. It was never going to last.”

“So you keep saying. You make it sound like you expected it to fail from the start.”

“So did you.”

“True. Sorry about that.” She leans against my shoulder.

“Careful the paps don’t see you like this, we wouldn’t want the rumours to start again.”

She chuckles. “I think they gave up on us when I married Dave.”

“They could try a new angle. I’m single again, what will I do next? I might try to add some drama to the most boring, sorry, I mean stable marriage in Del Sol Valley.”

She laughs and punches me in the shoulder, surprisingly hard.

“Watch it, Romeo. I may only be a cop on screen, but I’ve learned a lot about hiding evidence.”

I put my arm around her and for a moment we just exist, listening to the cicadas until Dave calls us back in for dessert.