Taina
YOU TALK TOO DAMN MUCH
Emiliano went back to work today at an hour far earlier than I’d ever voluntarily wake up. He kissed me on my forehead before he left while I pretended to still be asleep. But somehow, I was able to fall asleep again, rising for the day to see a text message from him.
Every time I envision you still in our bed, I smile.
Such a lover boy.
I’ve never lived with a man before, aside from my father. So there’s a novelty here that I don’t know I can fully enjoy.
Emiliano is organized, he’s quiet, and he respects my space.
But I find myself growing in a very different direction from the person I need to be. The person I was even a week ago.
He’s making me soft, and I volley between loving the change and hating the way I feel weak when I think about it for too long. So I try not to.
Instead, I get dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, having gone to pick up clothes at a boutique with Emiliano yesterday after our pedicures.
I grin to myself as I think back on how excited the women in the nail salon were to see him, offering condolences for his father’s passing and telling me how sweet he’s always been.
He held my hand any chance he could, and we stopped for lunch at a local mom and pop restaurant, where he said the best pozole and elote are.
I allowed myself to stay present with him, but today, guilt chases me around every corner, tucking itself into my shadow.
So I pull on my boots, grab my phone, keys, and the credit card Emiliano left me, and I walk out of the house. I snort a little laugh when I see the black Range Rover. He informed me that it was armored and requested that if I leave, I let him know so one of his guys could keep tabs on me.
But I can’t have someone babysitting me while I’m out on a rampage, trying to ruin lives. And if Emiliano were to know where I’m headed and what I’m planning, I’m not sure what he’d do.
He’d certainly never look at me the same way again.
Because while I’m aware of many things about him, the Taina he knows is the one who only discusses the present.
My past belongs to only me.
I hop in the car and turn it on, prepared to take the drive into downtown Austin to pay someone a visit.
An hour later, I’m walking into a familiar building, knowing she should be on her lunch break. She takes those alone now.
“Jesus Christ,” she starts when she notices me walking off the elevator, a lunch box in her hand. “I thought I’d seen the last of you. Your parents called.”
“Think again,” I mutter, not waiting for her to follow me as I make my way to her office. I sit on the couch, and it’s like slipping into a character I once was. It isn’t as effortless as it used to be .
But I remind myself that this woman was paid by my parents to make sure I toed their line. And she gladly did so.
“What brings you here, Ms. de la Matta? Threatening to ruin my life wasn’t enough? You’d like to ruin my lunch t?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I finally tell her, my voice at its normal octave, even if the words have an edge to them. “You talk too damn much.”
She sits back in her chair, her brows raised as she gestures toward me, as if she’s insisting that I speak.
“Things have gotten a little messier than I anticipated.” I pause to glare at her when she opens her mouth, only to watch her snap it shut. “So I’ve made some modifications to the plan, and you’re going to play a pivotal role.”
Even though she doesn’t speak, her nostrils flare.
“Nothing to jeopardize your career. Just something to tip the scales, should things go awry.”
“Am I allowed to speak?”
“If you have something of value to add, by all means.”
“What if I leave my husband?” Her question sits between us like a dare, and I smirk because she truly has no idea what she’s up against.
“You won’t,” I start as I stand, glancing around her bland office. “You’re pregnant. About ten weeks now, right?”
With her mouth agape, I bring my hands together and nod my head toward her.
“You probably aren’t sure who the father is because you were having unprotected sex with both men.
Well, I can only assume you were with your husband, but I know firsthand there weren’t condoms used with buddy down the hall. ”
“How do you even know that?” A tear slides down her face, and I’m amazed at how numb I am to her sadness. She willingly took money to help my parents keep me under their control.
I’m not going to tell her that I hacked her computer and have been mirroring her computer, monitoring her emails and other correspondence. She doesn’t need to know that she’s the second person I’ve done this to.
Rather than out my antics, I say, “One day very soon, you’re going to see my mother on the news, reporting on his murder. When that happens, you’ll no longer hear from me. Until then, I’ll be in touch.”