Chapter 24
SARINA
My brothers and Tomás hit it off immediately.
I had a feeling they would like him. I mean, what’s not to like?
He’s personable, intelligent, down-to-earth.
All traits anyone would want in a partner for their sibling.
Everything I would want in a partner, if I wanted to be in a relationship.
Just him being here, is doing more than any boyfriend I’ve had in the past.
The longer I stare at Tomás talking to my brothers, the guiltier I feel.
I still can’t believe I let him do that…
for me. And that I agreed, so willingly.
Knowing full well that after our plan is complete and we go our separate ways, whatever win I’ll have against my dad will fade.
With the divorce will come a string of ‘I told-you-so’s’.
Just the thought of that inevitable reality makes the air in my lungs feel trapped, bringing with it a heaviness that I can’t seem to shake.
“And down that way is where we package and distribute,” my brother, Noah says, pulling me from my internal spiraling. “We can show you, if Sarina doesn’t mind.”
Tomás breaks away from my brothers for a second, first examining my eyes, which I’m sure are glassy from holding back tears.
His hand finds mine, and just like it always seems to happen when our fingers interlace with one another’s, all the noise that no one hears but me quiets.
“Is that okay?” He nudges his head in the direction Noah pointed —a long hall with industrial-style doors leading to their distribution room.
“Yeah, sure, go ahead, knock yourself out. I’m sure nothing has changed since the last time I went in there, so I’ll stay back.” As casual as my reply is, the words scratch in my throat for reasons not even I can fully comprehend.
This is what we wanted.
To come here.
Together.
To feed into the illusion that we’re a couple so we both can get what we need.
But it’s this mundane moment, of him simply checking in with me, to see if it’s okay if he does something, that is throwing me off.
For two people who are slowly getting to know what the other is willing to share, we work well together.
Less like strangers and more like a well-oiled machine.
It’s bittersweet. Though I suppose I should cling onto the sweet part while I have it. Still, it doesn’t make the bitterness that is promised to follow sting any less.
Expecting Tomás to head off with the twins I step back, but the space I try to create between us becomes extinguished by him advancing forward.
The proximity to one another tricks my body into thinking we’re alone, instead of standing in the entrance lobby of the resort with both of my brothers’ as well as their staff’s stares on us.
Leaning in, his lips brush against my cheek for a kiss, and its tenderness is felt past my skin, burrowing its way into my chest that just minutes before felt tight.
They say that time flies when you’re having fun, but with Tomás, time seems to always slow when we’re together.
I’d like to think it’s a collective subconscious reminder that we don’t have a lot of it together, so the time we do have we choose to savor.
But there’s this unexplainable calm that spreads between us, that allows us to simply exist in the other’s presence.
I feel it. And I know he does too. And I’m sure whoever is watching senses it as well. It’s a welcome change of pace.
“Get a room,” Liam whistles, completely obliterating the moment, and a collective flush spreads through Tomás and me. Our cheeks burning, made more evident from the quick shield my hand makes, trying to hold on to the bubble we were lost in for a second more.
“They’re the worst.”
Tomás’ hand lowers mine, exposing us once more to my nosey brothers, and he tips my chin, brushing it gently with his thumb. “No, they’re just observant.”
My brow lifts. “Of?”
“How much we like being around each other.” The grin on his face is infectious. Before I realize it, the sentiment is mirrored on my face, and my cheeks are sore from how wide I’m grinning.
“See? You can’t resist me.”
“Whatever,” I respond, downplaying just how correct he is.
Patience has never been Noah’s strong suit, so naturally, he takes it upon himself to cut in and steal Tomás. “Don’t worry, Ri, we’ll bring him back to you in mint condition.”
“Actually, he gives Tomás the tour, I’m going to stay back with Ri,” Liam says.
Noah grabs Tomás a THC infused seltzer before leaving me with Liam.
Liam is older by fifteen minutes. Him and Noah are technically my half-siblings.
Once their mom died, they went to live with their maternal grandparents so we didn’t see each other much growing up.
Though, in our adulthood, we’ve all created a bond that I know my father detests, seeing as he has made his disappointment known for the two of them.
Hard to believe there’s more of his children he detests aside from me.
“You don’t want to go with them on their tour?” I ask Liam as he leads the way into one of the multiple dispensary rooms in the building.
“No, I’ll pass. Figured it’s a good time to catch up with my sister since she left us.” Unlike how my dad says it, I know he’s joking and that he genuinely missed me.
“Sounds good. Can you believe Dad moved the wedding up?”
“No, I honestly can’t. I’m sure he had a good reason.”
“Always does.”
If there’s one thing about our dad, it’s that he doesn’t do anything if it doesn’t benefit or serve him.
Considering the connections our family stands to gain from Harper’s fiancée Chloe’s family, I don’t doubt there was a deal of some kind that was on the table and expediting the wedding date would ensure that whatever my dad has his sights set on will become his.
“Harper is so excited to finally be Chloe’s wife, she hasn’t complained once about it, but I have a bad feeling.”
“Same.”
“I heard James went to Luxe,” Liam says, putting a pin in our small talk.
“How did you know?”
“I have my ways.”
“That’s vague.”
“I just like to make sure you and Harper are safe, no matter where you live, that’s all.”
“Right,” I say, partially convinced.
Anyone with an ounce of discernment can take one look at my brothers and how they operate, and gather that Hemp Grove may be their business, but their business dealings expand beyond owning one of Colorado’s premier cannabis resorts.
Their maternal grandfather, just like our dad, had ties to organized crime.
A tradition, if you will, that has lived on past their grandfather passing away.
“Did you know James was in New York?”
“Not until he stopped by,” I snap. If we’re going to talk about this asshole, I need something to take the edge off. Grabbing the key ring near where we’re standing, I use it to unlock the display case and help myself to a sativa vape.
“Since when do you smoke from a vape? You’ve always been a fresh flower or edible type, no?”
“What can I say? When in Rome, I guess,” I joke, scanning my options. My brother scoffs, taking over by grabbing me a pink dual-chamber vape pen.
“Here, you’ll like this. It’s guava flavored on one side, and lemon on the other. Sativa.”
I thank him and we make our way to the lounge area.
He waits until I tear the package open and suck in a hit to go on. “He’s been bothering you?”
“Define bothering.”
“You know what I mean. Has he done something recently to warrant us taking care of him?”
Let’s see, he’s schemed his way into my previous place of employment, put his slimy hands on me, harassed me by getting new numbers to contact me from after I’ve blocked him, to name a few.
But I don’t want to tell my brother that.
If he, or any of them find that out, it’ll start a war.
A war with James means the facade they maintain with my dad will go up in flames, and none of us need that.
Our family has gone through enough. It may not be healthy but it’s a hell of a lot easier to sweep things under the rug than to deal with that shit storm.
“No,” I lie.
“How’s your boyfriend feel about him?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I keep my voice low.
“Hold up, you mean to tell me that man who practically has cartoon hearts swirling around his head when he’s around you isn’t your boyfriend? Bullshit.” Emotion thickens in his throat, he’s trying his best to push it down. “Hell, it reminds me of how I looked at Ella.”
It’s been a couple years since his wife Ella died, leaving behind him and my niece.
She was the love of his life, his high school sweetheart, and I know that no matter how much time passes, nothing will fill the hole her passing left in his heart.
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it then.”
“That’s easier said than done,” I mumble.
“Lay it on me.”
“He’s my boss.”
Liam’s brows lift, ripe with curiosity.
“Well, sort of.”
And they straighten just as fast, confused.
“I got a temporary position as his paralegal. He’s sort of my boss.”
“Okay, I got that part. So why is your kind of sort of boss here with you, looking at you the way he does?”
“Because his boss wants him to pitch a business idea to dad.”
He shakes his head. “No. That’s not all. Business proposal or not, I clocked immediately the way he was looking at you. That doesn’t scream business or professional to me. What are you not telling me?”
If there’s one thing about my siblings and I, is that we are all stubborn in our own way. And Liam is probably the most stubborn out of us all. He won’t stop asking until I give him the information he needs.
“I kind of married him,” I confess, just as he takes a hit from his vape.
Choking on the smoke, he wafts away the remnants of his hit before looking at me.
“I’m sorry. Did you just say you kind of married your boss?”
“Sort of boss,” I remind him with a playful smile that he doesn’t return.
“I realize I’m older than you and out of the loop on what’s trending but how does one accidentally stumble and marry someone, let alone their boss? No judgement but I’m genuinely curious.”
My head hangs low, peering at my vacant ring finger. Rubbing it, I try to think of how to explain this beyond unconventional situation.
“Ri, you know you can talk to me. I’m not like Dad.”
“I know.” Him and Noah are the furthest things from our dad. If anything, they have stepped in and been more of a father figure than he has.
“Fine,” I sigh.
Word vomit ensues and I tell him everything —minus our mirrored room moment– down to how a plus one date turned into a real on paper, but temporary, marriage.
I’m not sure how I was expecting him to react, but one thing is for sure, it’s not how he is right now.
Excitement like I’ve never seen before from him glosses over his demeanor as he takes what appears to be a celebratory hit of weed.
“Anyway, it’s just so I can have a date to Harper’s wedding and dad off my back. Then I guess find a way to the attorney that drew up the will, so I can get what Grandma left for me.” As I say it out loud, I’m reminded all over again how complicated this all is.
“You know as well as I do that Grandma would have never worded her will the way it was presented to us. She didn’t hold the same archaic and controlling values that Dad does.
She was progressive. Kind. She wanted you, and all of us, to find our own paths.
We haven’t been able to prove it, but I know he somehow altered that will.
Now that you’re married, you can get what is yours to inherit, and since you’re home, us and Tomás will be around to make sure everything goes as it’s supposed to. ”
“It’s not real.”
“Make it real long enough that you get what’s owed to you.”
Words escape me as Liam asks if I want to go out by the firepit where Tomás and Noah are. I decline, saying I’m tired and ask where we’ll be staying. Liam shows me to our room and I wait until he leaves so I can crawl into bed and do what I’ve wanted to do since coming back home. Cry.
I can’t believe she’s gone. The woman I called Grandma out loud but Mom in my heart, is gone. Off to wherever exists after we leave this earth. Hopefully dancing to Frank Sinatra with my papa. Existing in infinite bliss, no longer in pain, no longer suffering.
She was the only thing holding me here in the place I’ve called home. Now, I can head to New York without the guilt of leaving her behind.
All I need to do first is stop by my parents’ —since the attorney will be there to read the will— and then I’ll be gone.
I don’t plan on coming back here. Not unless one of my siblings needs me for something.
My parents won’t miss me.
If anything, since calling off the wedding with James, my dad has barely spoken to me.
The text he sent me about the meeting with the attorney was the first time I’ve been contacted by him since Grandma’s passing.
I go through the motions when I get to my parents’. Hugging them hello. Pretending like we have a loving relationship, when really what we have is severed obligations, which are about to come to an end now that I’m leaving.
I tune out most of the meeting.
I don’t care about the assets.
I don’t want her money.
I want her…here…alive.
It isn’t until the will reading is about to conclude that I snap myself from my daze and speak up.
“What about Grandma’s rings?”
“What about them?” my father asks, cold as can be. He proceeds to read a stipulation in her will that I was not expecting.
“What do you mean I can only receive the ring if I’m married?”
“How materialistic of you, Sarina. You should be ashamed.” My father maintains a stoic front, but I can feel the mischief and smugness radiating from him. “Your grandmother. My mother!” Fake tears line his eyes. “Is gone and here you are being so selfish.”
“I’m not being selfish. That ring is sentimental. It was promised to me. It’s all I have left of her aside from the memories.”
Within an instant all the raw emotional theatrics he put on dissipates.
“Engagement rings are for the engaged. You made it clear you didn’t want the engagement I went out of my way to secure for you. Change your mind and it’s yours,” is what he says, but what he’s really saying is, ‘Bend to my rules and you get what you want.’
I refuse.
If memories are all I will have to keep from my grandmother, then so be it.
It’s always his way or no way.
It’s always the promise of unconditional love amongst endless conditions.
I rise to my feet, say my goodbyes to everyone but him, and I leave for New York…for good.