By Carolynn Bjorkman
Jenna appeared in the room as if Diego’s thoughts of her had beckoned her. In the moonlight she looked like a ghost. She didn’t realize he was awake and watching her. She went to the kitchen and turned on a light that illuminated minimally.
“Jenna?” Diego said, in a whisper.
Hearing her name spoken made her jump. She hadn’t expected Diego to be suffering insomnia. Maybe she’d woken him with the light.
“Diego. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
He got up from the sofa and walked over to where she was, shaking his head. “No. I have been awake for a long time, thinking. But why are you not asleep?” he asked.
Jenna looked down, nervously. It was as if she were carefully choosing her words. “I guess it’s been a busy week and it’s finally catching up with me,” she answered, trying to sound cheerful.
Diego wasn’t easily deceived. The look in her eyes told him Jenna carried an emotional burden. “I would think that, with everywhere we’ve been these last days, you would have no trouble at all to sleep. Is something else troubling you?” He was too keen, Jenna thought. Next he’d be reading her mind. She looked away to avoid his gaze, otherwise, she thought, she’d burst into tears.
“I’m going to warm up some milk to help me sleep,” she prevaricated, “Would you like some too?”
Diego nodded. But he wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Within minutes, they both had a mug of warm milk and went back to the living room area. Diego sat beside her with purpose. If she put enough space between them, he would never hear what was tormenting her.
Finishing his drink, Diego began to speak. “Why do you look so sad, Jenna?” When she turned her head to avoid answering, Diego reached and turned her face back to his. “Tell me, please?”
The tears silently overflowed, and Jenna made confession. “I know I told you I would help you get back, and everything, Diego, but here it’s been a week I’ve known you and…and I don’t want to stop. I know it sounds selfish and all, but I find myself wishing you’d be stuck here.”
She wasn’t able to say any more. Her tears touched Diego’s heart and he held her close. “I know, querida. I have been sitting here thinking about how I feel about you, too. At the same time, I feel guilty. I have been enjoying myself, while my father is probably preparing my funeral. He’s getting old and his heart is probably breaking.” He put her away from him to lift her chin and look at her tear-stained face. “I have to get home and put his fears to rest. Every day I am gone will cause him more anguish than he can face. It was enough when my mother died years ago. I cannot let him suffer unnecessary grief.”
Another thought came to him. “There is also Monastario. Jenna, he is no fool. He’s very clever and it doesn’t require much for him to put facts together. If I am considered missing, and Zorro does not appear during that same time, Monastario will realize Zorro and I are the same person. So would my father. These are not unintelligent men. I am taking a risk already, when I do return, that Zorro will start tormenting Monastario again. But I cannot abandon those whom I’ve helped and sworn to help.” Diego tilted her head up so that Jenna was looking into his eyes. He gently wiped away some of the tears. “Do you understand? I have to return home.”
Jenna nodded, but her eyes welled up again. Diego once again held her close. He never wanted to let her go. That much he could feel for certain. They needed some distraction. Diego came up with a suggestion.
“How about some music to soothe our pain, eh?” he asked. Jenna looked up, nodded again, and got up to put on some soft, non-intrusive music. The voice of Phil Collins singing his “One More Night” began drifting through the apartment, though not loudly. Diego got up and pulled Jenna into a slow dance. It was the one thing they had both seemed to enjoy.
“I may hate this song after this,” Jenna whispered. Diego let out a small laugh.
“It is a nice one, but listening to the words, I can understand,” he agreed. He looked down at her moonlit face, they both stopped dancing, and they stood there like that for what seemed several minutes. Neither one could figure out who reached for whom, but they found themselves in a kiss so deep the rest of the world, with its silly worries, disappeared. It threatened to consume them both. Diego broke away with a breath of oxygen left, realizing where it could lead them both. He could not take such a chance. He felt Jenna try to lead him to her room. The knowledge of the temptation made him realize that he’d better show resistance, or he would never be able to see his home again. His upbringing dictated that. His honor was too strong to compromise a senorita.
“Diego?” Jenna questioned. He was suddenly as strong as a bull. She wanted to wake up with him so badly. But he stood as solid as a statue.
“Jenna, no. I cannot. You are a senorita, and I would not dare. If I did, I would have to stay,” he explained, emotion affecting his voice. Jenna saw tears in his eyes, and knew there was something strong that held him back. The realization shocked her: old-fashioned honor. And she knew with that, that it was woven into Diego’s very being so strongly, she wouldn’t win over it. Jenna about choked on a heavy swallow. Biting her lip, she gave up. Nodding in understanding, she let go of his hands. They both went their separate ways. Without knowing it, they both also opened a window for the relief of cool night air. And they eventually fell asleep; both with pain in their hearts, knowing the next day meant good-bye.
