Chapter 31
SARINA
It’s been over an hour since Tomás left for a walk with my brothers, and I’m snuggled under the covers, thankful for cramps.
One, because I don’t actually have them, and two, for as painful as actual menstrual cramps can be, they are in fact a godsend since they fall into the category of universal excuses that exempt you from social obligations.
Similar to having children with being able to say ‘Sorry, I’d love to go but I don’t have a babysitter’ or ‘I’d love to, but the kids have…
’ insert whatever the fuck the kids have or don’t have.
Either way, it’s your ‘get out of whatever you don’t feel like doing’ card.
And since I have absolutely no interest in ever having kids, my options are period cramps and migraines.
However, I don’t use the latter often. I noticed an unfortunate jinxing domino effect that results in me actually getting a migraine after, so I retired that one.
I consider myself a strong, independent woman, but a migraine with aura is debilitating, so I alter my excuses to not have such a karmic effect, thank you very much.
So menstrual cramps were the excuse of choice this evening when my sister asked that I go out for drinks with her and her bridesmaids. The thought of having to put on a smile, and socialize, after being forced to see James at the rehearsal dinner, was torture.
Instead, I opted to disassociate in our room while I wait for Tomás to get back.
It was going great until Lorena and Gabriella FaceTimed me and before I knew it, I was unleashing years’ worth of details I’ve been keeping from Lorena.
Not that I intended to tell her —and Gabriella— about James, or the extent of my dad’s schemes with me sobbing, but I swear, those two are good.
Within seconds they both picked up on me fake smiling, as they put it, and that was when the dam of tears broke —as did my ability to keep it in.
I can tell Lorena is still processing everything.
I don’t blame her, my own head was spinning at everything I finally fessed up to.
For someone who has kept much of who my family is and what they have done under wraps for as long as I did, I sure as hell was able to give a full recap in record time.
Now it’s Gabriella who’s doing most of the talking.
“I’ve never wished I had a babysitter more than I do right now.”
Lorena turns her head to face Gabriella, giving her a similar look as I am. Both of us not following.
“Not like you invited me to be your plus-one, but still. First your brothers are all being described as grumpy ranchers out of a romance novel, and now we find out you’re basically a mafia princess who was arranged to be married?”
“Gabriella!” Lorena says her name, scolding. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to come off insensitive. This is one of the downfalls of being a writer. We absorb everything, and it has the wheels of our imagination churning overtime. If you two were able to see the tabs I have open in my mind at all times, it’d make your heads spin.”
“No, thanks. I have enough clutter in my mind daily, I don’t need to add to it,” I say, sniffling.
The tears have finally stopped, and I feel slightly embarrassed for crying, but it’s obvious that I needed to let it out.
There’s been so much I have compartmentalized for the sake of being able to function, that I’ve unintentionally numbed myself in the process.
I had a long run. Hiding behind humor, snarky quips, and lots of forced grins, but after a while faking it becomes yet another burden to carry.
In allowing myself just now to feel, I’m reminded that it’s okay to not be okay, and that I’m fortunate to have friends who not only listen but don’t judge.
“Are you okay?” Gabriella asks.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I don’t know how I’ll break it to my siblings, but I’ve decided this is the last time I’m coming to Colorado.
Everything feels too heavy here. I constantly feel like I’m suffocating while biting my tongue.
New York is my home now. I just need to get through Harper and Chloe’s wedding with Tomás, and then I’ll really be okay once we fly back to New York. ”
There’s no missing how Lorena’s posture and face perk up at the mention of her brother.
Gabriella’s eyes widen in my direction, and I freeze.
Lorena’s tongue clicks. “Gabi, we’re both FaceTiming Sarina. Our faces are reflected on the top right corner of the screen in live time.”
Gabriella clenches her jaw in an ‘oops’ face.
“Sarina, you’re one of my best friends. If there’s something more to why you and my brother went to Colorado together, you can tell me.”
“You promise you won’t be mad?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Here goes nothing. My hearing dulls after I get to the part at the club, sharing up to the semi-permanent move Tomás and I made in marriage. I then divulge why we did it. I keep going through the part about my grandmother’s will and the stipulation.
When I’m done rambling, Gabriella excuses herself, claiming her daughter Luci is calling her, but it’s clear she wants to give me and Lorena a moment to ourselves.
“That was a lot, I know,” I say to Lorena, unable to read her expression. Seconds fade into more, and by the time we’re nearing a minute of her not saying anything, the silence becomes unbearable. “Lo, say something.”
I apologize to her again. I’ve been friends with Lorena long enough to pick up on her cues.
Especially when she has something on her mind that she has to get out.
There’s always this preoccupied glaze that takes over her eyes.
She’d be horrible at poker, since she severely lacks a poker face.
Even if she’s silent, if something is on her mind it’s written all over her face in all caps.
“Okay first and foremost, the next time you tell me about a hook-up, if it’s with my brother, just don’t.” Lorena dramatically gags.
“I didn’t know it was him though, not until we officially met at the office, but noted.”
“Fair, but still. I will now spend all of eternity trying to erase the details you told me about, Mr. Armani.”
We both share a laugh until Lorena’s face grows sad, nostalgic even.
“I remember the first girlfriend Tomás had. It was shortly after our dad passed away, the relationship didn’t last long, but Tomás was heartbroken.
If I’m being honest, I think the grief he was carrying contributed to how he handled the breakup.
I know I give him a hard time for being so overprotective of my mom and me, but I also know that’s how he is.
When you mean something to him, on any level, he’s all in. He doesn’t just care, he cares deeply.”
Nothing she’s saying is news to me. I’ve seen it for myself. Though it’s what she says next that feels like a punch to the gut.
“I overheard my mom talking on the phone to one of her friends. She was saying how happy Tomás has seemed lately. I guess he called and he was filling her in on your trip so far.”
It sounds so mundane, but the fact that he even mentioned me to his mom, or that he gave off any hint of happiness involving me, makes me feel as elated as I do guilty.
Lorena continues when I don’t say anything. “As your friend, you deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy. But, as his sister, I don’t want to see him hurt. If you care for him, let him know. And if you don’t, and all of this is simply transactional, also let him know.”
Deep down, I know the answer but admitting it and putting myself out there feels unsettling. Scary.
“I will.” I promise Lorena and the tears that’ve subsided start to rise back to the surface, causing my throat to tighten.
Not having the energy to cry any more than I already have, I end the video call and go to text Tomás but he beats me to it.
Tomás
Are you up?
Yes
Tomás
Good
Three dots appear then disappear. Though I’m not left wondering what he was going to text for long when the door flies open, and I’m met with Tomás’ silhouette standing in the doorway.
Loosening his tie, he steps inside, locking the door behind him. His body language screams of exasperation, yet his gaze radiates desire.
“Where did you go?” I ask, creeping toward the edge of the mattress, until I seat myself at the end.
“I spoke with the attorney.”
It takes a moment for me to register what he’s referring to, everything has felt like such a whirlwind lately, I almost forgot— despite telling his sister minutes ago on the phone— about the will.
“Oh. How did it go?”
“I like your dress,” he compliments, avoiding my question.
If it weren’t for the ease visibly washing over him, I’d press him more, but instead, I remain silent, waiting for him to elaborate.
He pulls the strap on one shoulder, pulling it down slowly before doing the same to the other side.
“It’s so pretty,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over my skin as he lowers the fabric, exposing my pierced nipples to him.
Hungry eyes drink me in before even hungrier lips devour me with gentle, attentive kisses from my neck, across my collarbone, and down to each breast. He continues peppers kisses that light my body on fire until his gentle nature grows possessive, and the dress that he so enjoyed on me, is no longer intact, and is now a shredded pile of fabric tossed on the ground.
My thighs part making space for him to stand between. He towers over me, hovering his head as he tips my chin upward.
“I won’t disappoint you.” His breath is a warm embrace traveling to every inch of my body until it settles onto the part of me that he’s been pining after. My heart.
In my head, I respond, I know you won’t.
“I won’t hurt you.”
I know.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
I know.
“I want to you to feel cherished.”
A tear manages to sneak past my lids, rolling down my cheek and his lips are there to catch it, giving me the permission I didn’t know I needed to put my guard down all the way. Not only for me, but for him as well.