Chapter 19
Elena
“Lena!” My mum calls out for me for what seems like hundreds of times by the tone of her voice.
“Yeah?”
“Can you bring me a glass of water?”
“Sure, I’ll be there in a second.”
I try not to lose my mind over this last week and recite my manuscript that is written in my head for the 83819th time to get the story straight. It’s the last weekend before I leave for Venice and I still haven’t told them.
Not about Venice, not about Gabriel.
I can do it; I can do it.
I place the glass of water down on her table and take a seat on her bed, waiting for her to start a conversation.
Better wait for her to start than me because how will I start? ‘Hey Ma. I have a fiancé you don’t know about and I am telling you just now.’ It sounds stupid and it would be awkward if I started like that anyway. And can you imagine the heart attack she would have if I phrased it like that. I would send her to the grave before it’s her time.
“Great weather.” I tell her, awkwardly laughing.
“What’s wrong, minha?” She saw right through me not surprised by that; she always does.
I hesitate for a moment. “A lot.”
“Then shoot out the drama. I can smell it from a thousand metres away.”
“Of course you do.” I bubble out a laugh.
She raises an eyebrow at me.
“Okay, so you know how, wait no you don’t. A few months ago, I was in Monaco and I may or may not-”
I get interrupted mid-sentence when the bell rings.
Saved by the bell.
I excuse myself and make it to the front door. I let out a huff of air because my nerves were over the roof just now and I would have freaked out, blabbing nonsense out. I step up on my tiptoes and take a look through the peephole.
“No fucking way.” I curse under my breath, seeing Gabriel at the front door of my parents apartment with a bouquet of green flowers.
How the hell does he know the address?
I open the door and his face lights up with a smile and he raises the bouquet to hand it over to me.
“Hello fiancé.”
“No.”
“Excuse your bad manners.”
“No, Gabriel.” I groan in frustration, take the key from the door and step outside with him. “Why are you here?”
“To keep my part of the deal.”
“I haven’t told them yet.” I confess.
“Then we’ll tell them together.”
“Are you dense? Can you imagine the heart attack they would have if a complete stranger came in and told them he is their daughter’s fiancé?”
“You are being overdramatic. Sure, they would be shocked for a moment but they won’t have a heart attack.”
“My parents are immigrants, think of that before you say anything else.” I raise my eyebrows at him. He really believes that my parents are going to be cool with that.
No! They won’t. I will send them to their graves if he steps foot inside the apartment. “How the hell do you even know my parents address?”
“You told me.”
“I did?”
He nods.
That information slipped my mind because how can I not remember giving the address away?
Worst of all, how does he manage to look so good? He is wearing his ‘usual’ outfit. A pair of dark blue jeans that somehow have my eyes wandering in completely wrong places. A white shirt that frames his chest perfectly.
The last couple of days have been awkward at the office to say that least. After I told him about what Ben had done, what I haven’t told anyone, I sort of got shy and have been trying to avoid him since then.
But I haven’t felt this free with this burden off my chest.
The breakup was my wake up call to finally open up on my sexual assault.
I still cannot believe until this day that my boyfriend did it.
He was my boyfriend and took advantage of me when I couldn’t fight back.
My eyes wander places they shouldn’t, his plum pink lips that are pillow soft. I may not remember much of what happened the night before but I do remember kissing him. Again.
Those soft lips.
I am going crazy over my boss.
“Enjoying your view?” He asks nonchalantly. A small dimple is buried in his left cheek.
“I think you are starting to get wrinkles.” I tease him, pointing to the dimple on his face.
“As if you have never seen a dimple.”
“So, it is a dimple. Huh. A wrinkle would have been more realistic.” I shrug my shoulders with a deviant smile.
“If you keep insulting me, I might actually believe you like me.” He steps closer and traps me between the door and him. If my dad opens the door at this moment then he will not only see a strange man get too close to his daughter but also me on the floor because I have no sense of balance.
“Like you?” I laugh while repeating his words. “Now you are just being arrogant. Maybe I insult you because I can?” I remind him, his words affecting me more than I want to admit and I clench my legs together.
I do like him but this time I am not drunk to say I am going to take the risk.
“Remember the last time you insulted me?”
“You almost kissed me?” I suggest and shrug my shoulders as if I am asking the question myself.
“I have no idea what you are talking about. Because I remember the last time you insulted me, I scared you at the office so if you have any other memory of what happened, then please enlighten me, love.”
My mouth falls open.
He played with me.
He smiles innocently and my smile falls at the same time. You know what? I am in the mood for my dad to get his shotgun out of the compartment in his room. “My dad is in his room praying and my mum is in the living room. My mum doesn’t speak English so if you need a translation, I am here.” I tell him and unlock the door but step back when I glance down to the floor. I turn around and point my finger at him. “And take off your shoes. I just cleaned the apartment.” I turn back to the door.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stop him before I open the door, pointing my finger at him once again as if I am disciplining a child. He may try to sound respectful but I do not like being called ma’am.
Makes me feel old.
“Okay, fine. I was trying to be respectful but apparently, you aren’t into that.” He teases and I glare at him. He grows a smirk as I keep my death glare on him. If I could pluck his eyes out I would because those are distracting me.
We walked into the apartment and at that exact moment my dad had finished his prayer and saw him at the door.
I stand starstruck planted on the floor, my mouth gapes open as I stare at my father who looks back and forth between us.
“Good day, Mr. Ferreira. My name is Gabriel.” He stretches his hand out for my father to take. My Dad eyes him suspiciously and slowly shakes his hand.
My heart races harder. Maybe the shotgun isn’t the best idea.
“Minha, who is this man?” He pulls his gaze away from Gabriel and looks at me with a worried expression.
I would too. If my daughter brought home a strange man I would be worried that she collected him from the streets.
Not that Gabriel looks like he is from the streets. Quite the opposite.
He looks like he walked out of a Louvre painting.
“We have a lot to talk about, Papa. Living room?” I smile innocently and lead them both to the living room where Mama is crocheting.
“Minha, who is that man?” My mum asks me in Portuguese, Gabriel smiles at her innocently as he doesn’t understand.
“Mama, Papa, please sit down.” I tell them and guide my father to sit down and he just stands there awkwardly. I try to keep my temper with him because I am so mad at him right now but I can take out my anger on him later. “You too.”
Gabriel points two thumbs up to me and sits down opposite of my parents.
I put the green roses he got me in a vase half full of water and place it as a decor in the dinner table that is in the middle of the room and walk back to where the drama is and sit down next to Gabriel who takes my hand in his, intertwined our fingers and tingles travel all over my arms and goosebumps rise on my skin. I shudder for a short moment, hoping no one noticed it.
“Oh my god, you are engaged?” My mum says and jumps up from her seat.
I stare at her in disbelief.
“How do you know?”
“The ring.” She points at the ring as it is in full view. I got it yesterday after it was resized and now it won’t budge. I am officially stuck in a loveless marriage. Metaphorically. “Minha.” She calls out to me in a warning tone.
“I know I am probably your least favourite daughter, scratch that I am your only daughter that you have and I promise I wanted to tell you guys but I thought if I kept the relationship private then it would work, and I was right and now I am telling you in hope that you guys will still love me. Please don’t be mad.” I blabber out all in one breath, my mum giving me a confused look and that made me even more nervous.
“What did you tell her?” Gabriel whispers in my ear.
“I’ll tell you later.” I move my gaze to his and silver meets brown because my fucking god are his eyes beautiful. You can get lost in them.
“Okay.” Mama says in an awkward tone and my dad just stares at him with a death stare as if he is questioning himself if he should get the shotgun. If he doesn’t then I will because I want to shoot myself for coming up with this stupid, stupid plan last minute.
Okay? That is all she has to say when her daughter tells her she is engaged.
We sat in complete silence for a good two minutes, everyone waiting for anyone to say anything but no one was bold enough to open their mouth.
I tap my foot against the floor rapidly, slowly starting to break in sweats in the long sleeve blue dress that I have on.
“How long?” My father clears the awkward tension in the air with the most obvious question that was expected to be asked.
“Eig- Eight months.”
“How did you meet?”
“Work event.” Gabriel speaks for me and oh boy did we mess up.
“Work event? You never went to those.” My dad observes. Why do they have to pay such close attention to details? And also, thank fuck I never told her when Ben and I broke up. It was four months ago but she thinks it has been longer…
“I went to one which was in London here and that is where we met.” I cover up what mess Gabriel got us in. I may have rehearsed this conversation in my head but forgot to include Gabriel in my thoughts.
That is beside the point. My parents know I always called in sick when the work events happened, mostly because they were abroad and I had no interest in them and I would have bored myself to death there and would have been the coffee bringer there too.
It was not mandatory that I accompany my colleagues there so I didn’t get in trouble.
“Do you make good money?”
“Mama!” My eyes widen in shock and I shake my head at her when she gives me a confused look. “You can’t ask something like that.” I whisper to her in Portuguese.
A deep laugh bubbles out of Gabriel and his arm vibrates where I have my arm slung into his. I turn to head to him and he has a smile plastered on his face as he looks at me with an expression I can’t pinpoint.
“I am the CEO of Harvey Co. Architecture firm so I believe I make a pretty good income.”
“Harvey? Minha,”
What did I do this time? I look back and forth between my parents who have sympathetic and questionable looks on their faces.
I laugh awkwardly as it clicks in my head on why they look at me like that. I hit Gabriel’s arm lightly. “He is not my boss, don’t worry. We work in different departments.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” My smile drops at my mum's answer.
“Oh.”
“How old are you?” My dad asks.
“Thirty-four.”
I squirm in my seat for a short moment but I keep the fake smile on my face and my parents stare at me in utter shock. I am pretty sure I can feel tears build up on how hard I am trying to hold in my breath.
“Minha?”
“Sim?” (Yes?)
“Cozinha.” My mum tells me in a soft tone and guides me to the kitchen. I take a deep breath as we enter and she closes the door and I get myself ready for the worst.
“Are you crazy? Eleven years older?” She gives me a slight flick on the side of my head.
“Ow.” I rub the spot where I could barely feel it but I love being dramatic. “First of all, great maths. Second, wha- age knows no limits in love.”
“Minha,” she shakes her head and rubs the temple with a disappointed look.
“I’m sorry, okay. It’s not like I was planning for it to happen.” I squeak in a high-pitched voice.
“Really? Or did you just pick him out and decide he will be the next bachelor.” Technically I did but should probably not mention that to her.
“That’s not how marriages work, Ma. And you know that. Look at you and dad.”
“Keep me out of your complicated love life. And this is about you. Don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t have a complicated love life. Be happy that I found someone who is in love with me and is willing to marry me because nowadays in this world no one really cares for love but more for sex.”
“Who are you talking to like that? I am not a friend. I am not Reneè.”
“You love Reneè.”
“I do love her.”
“Okay good now that this is settled. Are you mad?” My voice lowers at the last question because quite frankly, I am scared to ask that.
She lets out a huff and thinks a moment before she says anything. “Normally I would be mad at you for this humongous age gap but…”
“But?”
She looks up to me and a smile breaks out. “He is a millionaire.”
“Say that to him and he will one hundred percent correct you.”
“How?”
“He thinks it’s insulting since he is a billionaire.” I mock the word billionaire in a deep voice, mimicking Gabriel.
“Huge ego?”
“Yep.”
“Just like your father.” She comments and I laugh.
“Dad and big ego? I do not believe it.”
“You should have met him when we met. Worst guy ever. Not sure how I married him.”
“Be glad you married him. You got me.”
“My proudest gift.” She soothes my check with her warm hand and then I feel a pinch. She holds onto my cheeks as she shakes my head back and forth, talking to me in a baby voice.
“Mama, for Jesus’ sake I am twenty-three.”
“Jesus doesn’t care if you are three or twenty-three. You are still my little girl.”
“I know. Some things never change.”
She smiles at me. Her hand drops and she pouts with lips. “I know I may seem judgemental at the beginning and let me say I am glad I was with that dick.”
“Ma, don’t.”
“But I will try to get to know that Gabe guy.”
“Gabriel.” I correct her.
“Gabe, Gabriel. All the same.” She waves her hand in weird circular motions.
I shake my head at her in disbelief as I laugh. We talk in the kitchen for a while, completely forgetting about my dad and Gabriel in the living room. Maybe he did take the shotgun out. It’s weirdly quiet.
“Salt.” Mama says as she reaches for the cabinet.
“No, ma.” I try to stop her but she is too stubborn to listen.
“Let me do this. He has to prove himself.”
“I don’t think Gabriel even likes coffee.”
“Today he will.” She takes a teaspoon of salt and mixes it in the small coffee mug. I told her that coffee wasn’t necessary but she wanted to make some and now I know why she was determined to make some. She takes the coffee.
“Take the glasses and drinks, come on.” She commands me.
Quite frankly, this version of hers# scares me. I balance a tray of glasses on a silver platter while I carry two bottles of drinks between my forearm and waist.
One multi vitamin and an apple one while my mum carries the water.
You can imagine the shock when I walk in the living room seeing my dad and Gabriel engaging in a conversation while he shows him something on his phone. As if he can sense us, he looks up from his phone when we walk and gets up immediately when he sees me struggling and takes the juices from my grip and places them on the coffee table, acting like the doting fiancé.
“Thanks.” I murmur.
He just winks.
I will rip that wink out of him.
“What were you guys talking about?” I sit back down and Gabriel immediately wraps an arm around my waist, practically wrapping a fire ring around my waist and a fire patch on my cheek as he places a fast kiss to my cheek.
“I was just showing your dad how he can watch the new races of Formula One on his phone.”
“You watch Formula One?”
“Only recently.”
“Really? How come?”
“Because you watch it. I wanted something for us to talk about outside of work.” He leans his head against the side of mine and whispers in my ear.
“You what?” My lips part and I gulp down the knot in my throat and the heart in my chest beats faster at his confession.
“What team do you support by the way?”
“Don’t start that conversation. It will cause arguments.”
“Scuderia Aravis!” My dad shouts out in happiness as he overheard Gabriel and claps. “Tell me you also like the Italians, not like my daughter who went with the Americans.”
“Americans?”
“McAli.” I tell him and my dad shakes his head in disappointment. I raise my hands in defence.
“Very disappointed about that.” My mum says in broken English and I smile as she tries her best to be able to communicate.
“I’m sorry that you can’t have the perfect daughter.”
“You are perfect every other way, my love.” My mum says in Turkish. I do my best to translate the whole conversation for Gabriel and my mum that we have for the rest of the afternoon.
While my dad tries to convince him why the Italians are the better team with their history in the sport, I do the same with McAli. Although my dad has better points since Scuderia Aravis is a legend in the sport since the fifties, I still fight for my team.
“Gabe, you haven’t touched your coffee.”
“Gabriel, Papa.” I tell him. He is on this plan my ma set up for him to drink the salted coffee.
“Yeah, sorry. Guess I was concentrating on the conversation.” He says. I try to hold in a smile and even a laugh when the cup reaches his perfect plump pink lips and he takes a sip.
I watch him with a shocked expression as his face stays neutral to the salt in the coffee.
My mum’s smile brightens up.
What the hell?
The afternoon came to an end and I can tell that my parents might like him more than they want to admit. Now at least but he did good.
He did amazing.
“Mama!” I shout at her as she won’t stop peeking from the living room door to the front door as I am saying goodbye to Gabriel. I shake my head as she waves me off.
“Seems like she is waiting for something.”
“Yeah.” I chuckled.
“Before I go.” He holds up his finger to stop me. “Did you poison the coffee?”
I burst out in laughter at his question. “So, you did taste the salt. I was worried that you might have killed your taste buds.”
“Why the hell was salt in my coffee?”
“It’s a Turkish tradition. The guy drinks the salted coffee to prove he means it with the marriage and all. I guess my mother tested you.” I shrug my shoulders before I place a hand on his broad ones. “Congratulations, you passed!”
“You could have warned me.”
“Now where is the fun in that?” I smile bigger than I have ever done and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much. “Thank you. I had fun. I mean it and I think my parents are starting to like you.”
“It was my pleasure, my love.”
“Don’t expect a goodbye kiss.” I tell him as he kept looking at me with a weird expression.
“I am not. Someone else is.” He points with his head to my mum who is still peeking.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He says and before I can register his words and the smile he had on when he said that, our lips collide in a fiery slow kiss. He has his hands on both of my cheeks and I am pretty sure he can feel them heat up under his touch.
I balance myself on him and delicately place my hands on his abs, trying not to fall as my head spins from the short yet so passionate kiss.
I pull away when I hear a squeal next to me and my mum shakes her hands in the air in excitement as she watches us.
They really like him…
That’s…not so good anymore.