17. Sofia
17
SOFIA
P amela would not let me be. When she got in the mood to tease, she didn’t quit, convinced she had to be right. Today, she was on a roll, poking fun at me.
I’d ceased being so distracted. Worries would linger, ever-present in my mind, but as Diego and I fell into a family routine, I wanted to lower my guard.
“You have a glow, girl.” She sighed. Smiling and shaking her head, she stared at me, envious.
“I do not.”
“You have a glow. I’m telling you. I’m never wrong about these things.”
I rolled my eyes at her, ready to leave and get back to my son and… Well, I wasn’t sure what to call Diego anymore. My man. My hero. My lover. My…
Everything.
I tried so hard not to fall head over heels, but I feared I was failing that. Big time.
“You are so obsessed with getting pregnant that you are projecting on everyone else.”
She giggled. “I am not.”
“You are too. Yesterday, you thought because Selena threw up that she was pregnant,” I pointed out.
Pamela shrugged. Vomiting was a legitimate symptom of a pregnancy, but Selena told us when she showed up that she had never been this hung over in all her life. I at least hoped the holiday Christmas party that her husband had dragged her along to at his workplace was more fun with the alcohol. She’d been whining about hating her husband’s coworkers for so long, I wondered why she didn’t just tell him she didn’t want to go.
“You have a glow, Sofia.” Pamela set her papers down as Xavier walked in. On time! Yay! “You keep denying it, but I swear you gotta have a man you’ve been sneaking off to see. And he’s knocked you up.”
I gave her a droll look and shook my head. “Nope.”
I wasn’t sneaking off to see Diego. He was at my home, living with me. And I highly doubted he’d knocked me up. While I knew—as a mother and a nurse—that every pregnancy was different, I was confident that I would be clued in to the fact of whether I was pregnant or not.
My cycles had always been irregular and hard to track, and a genetic blood clot issue prevented me from considering hormonal birth control. Diego hadn’t mentioned using a condom, not that I would’ve had one anyway, but as I headed home, I cringed at how irresponsible we were being.
The first time we’d had sex, it happened so suddenly. Unplanned. But in the almost two weeks that had passed since then, each time we fucked, I'd made no move to protect myself. He’d asked once if I wanted him to pull out, and I rejected that. I loved it when he came in me, and honestly, I would enjoy having Diego’s baby.
Ramon was the light of my life, but I always held on to a dream that I could give him a brother or sister, that I could have a big, loving family to make my heart feel complete. Being a single mother was hard, but if Diego really could stick around…
You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re not pregnant.
Pamela was just talking up nonsense. That was how she was.
I don’t have a damn glow.
At a stoplight, I furrowed my brow.
And… I have not been nauseous lately. If I were, it had to be due to Diego’s style of scrambling eggs with way too much salt. His memories still hadn’t come back to him, and all three of us, including him, teased him about losing all memories of how to cook. I seriously wondered if he’d ever had practice making anything edible.
He tried, though, and I appreciated it all the more.
Now that Pamela had gone on and on about my having a glow, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Having Diego’s baby would be wonderful, and I hoped he was right about staying with me and Ramon.
Every time we mentioned the possibility of someone looking for him, he dismissed it by reminding me that weeks had passed, that if anyone had been searching for him, for good reasons or bad, they had to have given up by now.
Because while I was playing house with him and getting too attached for my own good, I struggled with the thought that he could have a wife already. A family. Children. Because there was no doubt in my mind that he’d choose them, that he’d be faithful and loyal to return to his “real” family. I didn’t think that because I had a low self-esteem. I was only aware that Diego was the good sort of man who’d be like that, loyal to who he’d been ripped away from with his memory lost.
I got home and sniffed at the smell of popcorn wafting from the kitchen. Pops still went off, and I smiled at the domestic scene of Diego and Ramon making a string of popcorn to hang on the doorframes.
“Hi, Mama!” Ramon called out, so chipper and happy, especially with Diego in our lives.
“Hi, baby.” I leaned in to kiss the top of his head.
“Aw, Mama. I’m not a baby anymore.”
A baby…
I shoved aside that possibility.
Diego came to me and kissed my cheek. “Hello, my angel,” he greeted, like always.
“Hi yourself,” I said as I hugged him close.
Ramon stayed busy with the popcorn, not reacting to us together. I’d never outright explained that Diego was no longer just a stranger I’d found and brought home, but much more.
While Diego and I weren’t overly affectionate in front of Ramon, we didn’t hide that we were more of a couple. And to my great relief, Ramon wasn’t bothered by it, accepting of this change. My son looked up to this wonderful, strong man, and I had to catch myself from musing whether Diego was my Christmas gift delivered too early.
Diego guided me to the living room, telling Ramon he’d be right back to help.
As soon as we were out of his earshot, though, Diego’s expression sobered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing something had to be up.
“Ramon and I went to the market this morning.”
“Yeah. And?” I held his hand and squeezed, needing this touch for comfort. “A man noticed Ramon and watched him. On the walk home, Ramon told me that you’d pointed the guy out as someone connected with the Cartel.”
Oh, fuck. Dread settled in, nauseating me.
The Cartel.
My worst fear.
If someone from the Cartel noticed Ramon, they had to be coming for him soon. Just the idea of any of those horrible men near my boy put my heart in a vise grip of terror. They were always too close, but I did all I could to shelter him and prevent him from being in the position where he could be followed or taken. Even Diego couldn’t singlehandedly save my son. If one Cartel man was lurking too close for comfort, another would be nearby.
All the illusions and dreams of a happy future I’d been having were shattered, just like that.