Chapter 17
Karina
I take a few days off from the hospital to move all my things to Vulcan’s apartment—correction, penthouse. When I agreed to move in with him, I didn’t think about all the packing I would have to do.
Vulcan kindly offered to help, but I was initially stubborn and turned him down.
It’s only been three weeks since his surgery and getting him involved with lifting and carting boxes is bound to end in disaster.
Still, he refused to take no for an answer, and despite my protests, he insisted on coming over with movers in tow.
My doorbell rings, and I glance at the clock on my nightstand.
It’s already creeping up on eleven. I thought for sure he’d want to take advantage of the chance to sleep in a bit longer before heading over, but maybe his stubborn streak is stronger than I thought.
I move quickly down the hall and swing open the door.
“Mom?” I suck in a breath, wishing I’d checked first. “What are you doing here?”
She pushes at the door, opening it just enough for her to walk through. Her eyes scan my living room, but I resolve not to tell her my moving plans. I want to keep this new life to myself for as long as possible.
“Now’s not really a good time.”
Her eyes narrow, picking up on the chaos of cardboard and packing tape—a visual onslaught that clearly reads as change.
And change has never been something she is fond of.
“Are you moving? To some fancy place, no doubt.” She steps over a box marked kitchen stuff and perches on the edge of my sofa.
“And I’ve been asking you for money. You tell me you’re spread thin, but you have money to get a new place, clearly. ”
I hesitate, caught between outright denial and the truth.
But lies have never sat well on my tongue.
“I’m donating some things.” That’s the truth, sort of.
“I’ve sent you everything I can.” I bite back the nasty remark that she could get a job, but now isn’t the time to start an argument.
Vulcan will be here soon, and I can’t let my mother see him.
She scoffs. “Donating, huh? Sure.” She crosses her arms, lips pursed. “How about you donate to your mother. I shouldn’t have to come find you because you’ve been avoiding my calls and your brothers’. You have a cell phone and a landline, and we haven’t heard from you.”
“I work over twelve hours a day at the hospital. I’m not avoiding you; I’m busy.
I told you I’m trying. I can’t give you money I don’t have.
I blew through my savings last year just to pay the bills at your house.
A new house you insisted on because Miguel and Luis needed a… What was it? A game room?”
It’s so frustrating. I love my brothers, but the way my mother treats me compared to them makes me sick.
I’m footing the bill for their tuition, textbooks, their car insurance, and everything else one could imagine.
Meanwhile, they are just coasting through life.
And not once do I get a text message or call from them checking to see how I’m doing, nor even a thank-you.
What hurts is that my mother has turned them into extensions of herself—takers who see me as nothing more than an ATM with legs.
Her face softens a touch as I lay bare the sacrifices I’ve been juggling, but it doesn’t last long. The cold, money-hungry mother I’ve grown up with comes rushing back. “It’s your duty to help your family,” she spits. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if it weren’t for my sacrifices.”
“Who I am today is an overworked doc—”
“I don’t want to hear the dramatics, Karina. I didn’t come for sob stories.” My mother stands, her back straightening as she looks at me with disgust. A look I’ve learned to ignore.
Before I can reply, the doorbell rings again. My heart jumps to my throat—I know it’s Vulcan. I throw a pleading look at my mother, silently begging her to behave and, just this once, rein in the insults and accusations.
I let Vulcan in and lead him into the living room, his presence commanding and unyielding. His shirt stretches across his broad chest, and I note with clinical frustration that he’s peeled off his sling a week too early for my liking.
His eyes immediately lock onto the scene behind me, a quick survey that takes in everything—the clutter of boxes, the tension in the air, and most notably, my mother on her feet with her arms defiantly crossed, her whole demeanor confrontational.
“Karina,” he says. “I thought I’d come early to help.”
I can feel my mother’s eyes boring into mine, her curiosity piqued. “Who’s this then?” she asks sharply.
Vulcan steps closer, offering a hand that my mother doesn’t take. “I’m Vulcan Montgomery,” he says. “I’m a friend of Karina’s.”
My mother’s eyes narrow slightly, her scrutinizing gaze shifting back and forth between us. “A friend, huh? You seem a little too old to be friends with my daughter.”
“Friendships are built on connection, Mrs. Reyes, not on the details of our birth certificates,” he explains with a respectful nod.
His eyes meet mine for a moment, a silent reassurance that seems to say he’s got this under control.
I’m thankful that he does, but I don’t need them arguing.
Knowing my mother, she will take it there.
I take a deep breath. “Mom, he was just stopping by to help me with some heavy lifting,” I explain hastily, hoping to steer her away from any lingering thoughts she might have about our relationship.
“Well, while he’s here, maybe you can both find the time to check those missed calls from your family.”
Vulcan raises an eyebrow slightly but addresses her with unwavering politeness. “Family is important,” he agrees smoothly. “But today, we’re focusing on helping Karina—”
“I’m not helping her with a damn thing. Karina, give me the money so I can be on my way.” My mother’s impatience boils over. She probably had a limit on how long she wanted to be in my presence. “I’ve wasted enough time here already.” Called it.
Vulcan glances at me, a silent question in his eyes, but I shake my head slightly. “Mom,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the growing frustration. “I really can’t give you more money right now. I don’t have it.”
Her demeanor shifts from demanding to incredulous. “You don’t have it? You haven’t sent me money in weeks. How do you expect me and your brothers to survive?” Her voice drips with anger, as if my financial struggles are a personal affront to her.
My mother never had to truly struggle. My father was the primary provider for our household. When he passed, she got his benefit checks and a nice chunk of money from the insurance company, which she spent on unnecessary things.
This is becoming too much for me now, especially with Vulcan here. I don’t want him to see this.
Yet he steps forward, subtly placing himself between my mother and me.
I feel a sudden rush of warmth at Vulcan’s protective gesture.
His broad shoulders block my mother’s gaze, giving me a moment to catch my breath.
“Karina has been managing her finances responsibly. She works incredibly hard saving lives every day. If she says she doesn’t have extra money right now, I believe her.
It’s not easy making ends meet these days, especially in this economy. ”
My mother scoffs. “Oh, please. You’re just defending her because you’re friends,” she snaps, the word friends coated with contempt.
“I’m defending her because it’s the truth,” he replies. “A job could help you feel less dependent on your daughter. Or, better yet, your sons could get jobs and help to relieve some of the pressure.”
I’m a little surprised that he knows so much about my life, but I try to keep it hidden. Minji is a very thorough attorney; I’m guessing she made him aware of my background. Fair enough. I’m kind of relieved I won’t have to take him through it from the start.
My mother’s eyes flicker with shock and irritation. The nerve Vulcan has hit sparks an unexpected wrath in her eyes. “How dare you?” Her voice is full of venom. “You come into my daughter’s home, a man I don’t even know, and lecture me about my family?”
“I’m only stating what might help. Objectively,” he adds, his tone still respectful, and it looks like he’s pissing my mother off more that she can’t get under his skin. He turns to look at me, his gaze softening slightly. “Karina can’t be expected to shoulder everything alone.”
I swallow hard, grateful for his support yet dreading the aftermath of this confrontation. My mother’s gaze moves back to mine, but Vulcan shifts his body to block me from her death glare. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring my calls? Because this man told you to?”
“No, Mother,” I reply quickly, moving to stand beside him. “Vulcan understands my situation because he sees how hard I work. I haven’t called you back because I’m genuinely overwhelmed and don’t have the money to spare.”
She snorts derisively. “You’ve always been too soft,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I thought you’d have your priorities straight by now, but clearly, you’re letting others influence you.”
Vulcan’s jaw tightens at her words, but he maintains his composure. “Karina is one of the strongest people I know,” he states. “Her decisions are her own, and if you have a problem with that, then I suggest you leave.”
My mother laughs bitterly. “Of course you’d say that. You’re standing here like some knight defending her honor. Where do you get off interfering in our family business?”
“Mrs. Reyes,” he begins, crossing his arms over his chest, “my intention isn’t to interfere but to support Karina, as any true friend would.
She deserves that much, at least. As her mother, you should have more compassion.
Especially when she tells you she is burnt out and does not have the financial means to lend out any money. ”
The air shifts slightly, and it’s clear she’s not used to being challenged in such a no-nonsense manner. “I think it’s best that you leave.” He gestures to the door.
My mother’s lips part as if she’s about to spit fire, but something in Vulcan’s stance must have convinced her that he’s not bluffing.
“Fine.” She spits out the word like it burns her tongue.
“I’m leaving. But this isn’t over, Karina.
Remember who you’re turning away.” And with that, she storms past us, slamming the door behind her in a fit of anger.
We stay silent for a few seconds before he turns to face me. “Are you okay?” he asks gently.
“Yes, thanks to you.” I manage a small smile, grateful beyond words but still processing everything. My mother has never backed down before. “I didn’t expect you… to stand up to her like that.”
He shrugs, but his eyes are as intense as I’ve ever seen them. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone. As your husband, it’ll be my job to be your protector.”
Husband. Protector. Those words send a shiver down my spine.
I swallow hard, my heart racing. “Vulcan, I…” I’ve never in my life had someone stand up for me is on the verge of spilling out, but I shake my head to clear the thought.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, stepping closer. His hand reaches up to wipe away my tears. When did I start crying? “You don’t have to say anything right now,” he continues. “Just know that I’m here. For whatever you need, and I meant every word.”
“Thank you, Vulcan. I didn’t realize I was so alone in my corner until this moment.”
“Don’t worry.” He smiles. “I’m not leaving you anytime soon. Would you like to sit for a bit?” he asks, gesturing to the couch. “The movers are set to arrive within the hour.”
“No, it’s fine. The quicker we pack, the faster I can get away from here.” I move toward my bedroom, sensing his footsteps trailing behind.
If Vulcan notices the disarray, he says nothing about it. We get to work, carefully folding my clothes and placing them in the suitcase or packaging up small trinkets I hadn’t decided whether to keep or just throw away.
He’s silent, letting me have my space, but there is so much unspoken between us. I can almost hear the questions he doesn’t ask: Are you okay? Do you want to talk?
I never imagined someone like Vulcan by my side in this way. Not just helping pack up my books and shoes but standing up for me without hesitating. His commitment seems genuine, and for once, the idea of leaning on someone doesn’t make me want to run. Instead, it makes me want to trust him more.
“Karina.” Vulcan finally breaks the silence as he zips up the nearly full suitcase. “The crew is almost finished removing everything. Do you have to turn in your keys?”
“My landlady told me to stop by next week since she’s out of town.”
He nods. “How about we grab a bite on the way to our place?”
I pause, processing his words. “Your place.”
“Ours,” he repeats. “I guess I’ll cook for you once we get home. I don’t want you to pass out on me from hunger.”
“That sounds perfect,” I admit, feeling the knots in my stomach ease slightly at the prospect of leaving this place behind—in three years, will I try to move back to this apartment building, or start over somewhere else?
I know this is all part of a grander plan, but I have to wonder… Where will Vulcan and I be when the contract comes to an end?
As if sensing my unspoken worries, Vulcan’s hand finds mine, his grip warm and reassuring. “Hey,” he says softly. “I can see those wheels turning in your head. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. You just surprise me is all.”
His eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me. But he doesn’t push. “Oh, I’m full of surprises, Karina. You’ll see.” He tosses me a playful smirk.
We wait for the movers to clear out before I lock up and we head downstairs. The mid-afternoon air feels cooler, almost refreshing, compared to the stifling tension in my apartment. Moving feels symbolic, as if I’m gradually peeling away layers of my old life that no longer serve me.