20. Cisco
Cisco
M arisol had been stressed all morning and rightfully so.
Snowball was missing, and even though she had only had the cat for a short time, they already shared a strong connection.
Most of the day, she followed him, numb, completely devoid of emotion.
Her eyes told him she was nearing her breaking point.
And now they hit it.
Snowball wiggled out of Marisol’s lap and trotted off to her bedroom. Her cries got louder as she dropped her head into her hands.
His body gravitated toward hers, lowering himself on the couch next to her. “Princesa.” He pulled her closer.
She whimpered but didn’t argue. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a princess,” she murmured weakly.
Cisco elected to ignore her. “Snowball is home and safe. It’s not your fault she got out.”
“It is, though. I left the window open,” she replied miserably .
“But not with the intent of Snowball getting out. She’s safely back where she belongs,” he assured.
“I can’t take care of her. I can’t keep her safe.”
“Of course you can?—”
Marisol pulled out of his grip and jumped to her feet. “Just stop!” she screamed, giving him pause. “You don’t understand what you are talking about. You don’t get it!”
“Then make me get it!” Cisco was on his feet, closing the distance between them. “What don’t I understand?”
His heart broke at her pained expression.
She was wearing her heart on her sleeve, and it was crumbling right in front of them.
Her cries were no longer those of anger, but of deep-rooted sorrow.
He knew this darkness. Hell, he had been in that darkness and fought his way out.
He wasn’t completely free of it, but he held the reins now.
“I’m not a good person?—”
“Bullshit.” His anger flared, but he tamped it down the best he could. Not anger at her, but anger that she couldn’t see she was a good person.
“It’s not!” she cried, her voice rising, edged with desperation. She was spiraling, sinking fast as the darkness threatened to consume her. But he was there. Steady, unwavering for her. He would catch her, hold on tight, refusing to let go, no matter how many times she tried to shove him away.
“Why aren’t you a good person, Marisol? Huh? Tell me.” Cisco reached out for her, expecting her to pull away. She looked like a frightened caged animal, ready to bolt. When his hand gently wrapped around her wrist, she jerked back.
And came undone.
“Because I can’t take care of anyone! I was meant to take care of her, but I didn’t. I would rather look away and ignore it because it’s easier for me,” Marisol shouted .
He had a feeling they were no longer talking about Snowball. This went deeper. Snowball was just the final straw.
“Who couldn’t you take care of?” he asked.
Marisol was already pacing, no longer looking in his direction. She was lost in her own head, fighting her invisible demons.
“I constantly let my sister go up against my mother alone. I should have been the one to protect her. To stand up for her! It was my job as her older sister to be there for her. But I wasn’t.
I chose cruelty because I didn’t want to face the things she was going through with our mom.
It was easier being the favorite, molding myself into the person Mom wanted me to be. No matter how much I hated it.
“So, you see why I shouldn’t have ever brought home an innocent animal that relies on me.
I can’t take care of people because I’m fucking selfish and entitled.
I’m a horrible person, Cisco. You need to get out before you get tangled up with me.
You should go.” The last words were barely more than a whisper, but he heard them as if they were shouted.
He didn’t know she had a sister or that her relationship with her mother was troubled.
But hearing it now, something inside him just clicked.
His understanding of Marisol—the way she acted, spoke, constantly looked uncomfortable in her own joy—it all made sense now.
She didn’t think she was deserving of those things.
She was wrong.
Wordlessly, Cisco took her hand and pulled her out of the living room. “Where are we going?” she asked, confused, but didn’t fight him.
Cisco didn’t answer. He brought her into the bathroom and flipped on the light.
As expected, her bathroom was pristine. No dirty clothes or wet towels cluttered the floor.
It smelled of lavender, and a small candle burned brightly in the corner.
Unlike the rest of the house, this room seemed untouched by the hurricane of emotions from this morning.
“Here.” Cisco brought her in front of the mirror, tilting her chin up with his finger so she was looking at herself in the reflection.
Marisol’s usual perfectly styled hair had been hastily thrown into a bun with strands sticking up everywhere. Her sweats were too big, and her shirt had a coffee stain on it. It was far from her normal put-together look.
And yet she had never been more beautiful. Puffy eyes, runny nose and all. She was gorgeous.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.
Her eyes darted around the room, probably wondering when he’d let her leave.
But he wasn’t going to let her leave until she realized how hard she was being on herself and acknowledged how hard she was working on becoming better.
“The woman in the mirror,” he came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, “this is the woman you’re mad at. The woman you claim is an idiot and not worthy of good things because of the mistakes of her past.”
“I’m not a good person,” Marisol said, voice raspy from crying.
“Because you lost Snowball? Because you couldn’t protect your sister?” Cisco prompted.
Marisol nodded, her bottom lip trembling.
“Because I’m selfish. I only think about myself.
I hurt the people I love, and I don’t even know how to show them I care.
I let my mother shape me into someone I barely recognize, and the worst part?
I can’t even bring myself to hate her for it.
I don’t blame her. I let it happen. I went along with it willingly. ”
“You were a child. A child who wanted her mother’s love and could only get it by pleasing her.”
“That’s what Alice said.” She chuckled humorlessly. “But if that’s true, why was I awful to my sister as an adult too? You know she was dating Archie before me? Yeah. I stole her boyfriend?—”
“Honestly, she should probably thank you for that.” That earned him an elbow to the gut. “Right, sorry. Go on.”
“I made her come to our engagement party—knowing it was going to hurt her—because my mother told me to. I could have fought harder. Could have done something different. But I took the easy way out. It doesn’t matter how many times I say sorry. It’s not going to fix my past mistakes.”
“No, it won’t,” Cisco agreed gently. “But it has changed your future.”
Marisol scoffed, but Cisco pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. It effectively silenced her.
“This woman”—Cisco pointed at Marisol’s reflection in the mirror—“is a beautiful, kind person who knows when to ask for help. Who has been actively working on her own shit and demons with therapy. Are you perfect? Hell no, but none of us are, Marisol. We’ve all made shitty choices and mistakes.”
He knew damn well how one simple mistake could cause an avalanche of bad shit.
It was hard to get out of it when everything else seemed to be spiraling out of control.
It was easier just to give in until it wasn’t, and you were drowning in all your decisions.
Thoughts of his own past plagued him, but now was not the time to bring it up. This was about Marisol.
Silent tears rolled down Marisol’s face, eyes wide as she looked at him through the mirror. She looked like a lost child, desperately seeking guidance.
“You aren’t a bad person, Princesa. You’re a person. You’ve made mistakes. And now you are taking the steps you need to change that. That takes a lot of dedication and self-reflection. And you know what? Not many people can say they are putting in the work to change.”
“I want to change,” she whispered. “I want to be a good big sister like Lola deserves.”
“Don’t just do it for Lola. You can change for you. It’s okay to want to be more or better than what you are.” Cisco gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms. They were cool to the touch and full of goosebumps.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” he asked.
“Hmm?” she asked but flinched like she was afraid of the answer.
“A strong, capable woman. A woman who wants to experience life and make meaningful connections. A woman who seeks out the help of others to make that a reality. One that I’m thankful for giving me the time of day.”
Cisco reached out and wiped away a few more tears that stubbornly rolled down her cheek. Marisol turned in his embrace, flinging her arms around his neck and nuzzling her head against his chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything.”
“My pleasure, Princesa.” If she called again tomorrow, and they had to go through it all over again, he would. As long as he was with her.
Marisol was taking up residence in his heart, making him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time…or ever. It was strong and new, and he wanted to see how it would develop. For the first time in his life, work wasn’t the most important thing to him anymore.
Cisco’s arms went around her waist and pulled her close. She fit perfectly against him, as if she were always meant to be there.
“Cisco?”
“Yes, Princesa?”
“Will you stay the night with me?”
He had never answered yes to something so quickly.