Chapter 5 #3
The door swings open to reveal five-year-old Carlos, Miguel’s son, grinning up at me with a gap-toothed smile.
“Tía! You’re here! Abuela said you might not come but I knew you would!” He launches himself at my legs with the kind of enthusiasm that only small children possess.
“Hey, buddy.” I ruffle his dark hair, my heart automatically softening. “Miss me?”
“So much! I made you a picture! It’s on the fridge with Sofia’s! Come see!”
Before I can even step fully inside, I’m surrounded. Sofia, his seven-year-old sister, appears with a shy smile and a careful hug, mindful of her ‘grown-up’ status. Miguel emerges from the kitchen, beer in hand and a genuine smile on his face.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her—” Miguel begins with a smile, but his eyes tighten when he sees my face. He sets his beer aside. “Your face. What happened to it?”
Oh, crap! I forgot they would see the marks.
“Nothing,” I try to gesture, my tone nonchalant. “It’s just—”
“Marco!” he roars, completely ignoring me. “Marco, come look at this. Some fucker attacked Eve!”
The voices in the kitchen die down almost immediately.
“What the hell happened to your face?” Miguel’s voice cuts through the silence. Before I can answer, Marco appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His face darkens when he sees me.
“Jesus Christ, Eve. You look like you went through a blender.”
“It’s nothing—” I start, but suddenly I’m surrounded by my brothers, all talking at once.
“Nothing?” Daniel pushes past Miguel, his eyes scanning my injuries with the sharp assessment of someone who’s seen his share of fights. “Those are claw marks. Someone attacked you.”
“Who did this?” Antonio demands, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that means someone’s about to get hurt. “Give me a name, Eve.”
“Guys, please—”
“Was it a mugging?” Rafael appears from the living room, his college textbooks forgotten. “Did you call the police?”
“Yes, I called the police, but—”
“Tía Eve, why are you hurt?” Sofia tugs at my coat, her young voice cutting through the masculine outrage with pure concern.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” I tell her, kneeling down to her level. “Just a little accident.”
“Accident, my ass,” Miguel growls. “Those are deliberate scratches.”
Elena materializes beside me with Mila close behind, both wearing identical expressions of female determination. “Boys, back off,” Elena commands with the authority of a woman who’s been married to a Lopez man for twelve years. “Come on, Eve. Let’s get you cleaned up properly.”
“I’m already cleaned up—”
“That concealer isn’t fooling anyone,” Mila says gently, already leading me to the couch. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
Elena grabs a makeup wipe from her purse. I try to protest, but these women have been dealing with Lopez stubbornness longer than I’ve been alive.
“Hold still,” Elena murmurs, carefully removing the concealer. “Oh honey, these were deep.”
“Who the hell did this?” Marco’s voice is deadly quiet now, which is somehow worse than shouting.
“I had a fight with someone,” I admit reluctantly as Mila examines the cut near my hairline. “It got out of hand. It’s handled.”
“A fight?” Daniel frowns. “What kind of fight leaves marks like that?”
“The kind that lands people in jail,” I say firmly. “I pressed charges. It’s over.”
“The hell it is,” Miguel snarls. “What’s this person’s name? I want to have a conversation with them.”
“Miguel, no. It’s handled—”
“Like hell it is!”
“Boys!” A sharp voice cuts through the argument. “What is all this shouting about?”
My mother appears in the kitchen doorway, and I feel my stomach drop to my shoes.
Isabella Lopez is a small woman—barely five feet tall—but she commands a room like a general.
Her graying hair is pulled back in a neat bun, and she’s wearing her best dress, the navy blue one she saves for important occasions.
She takes one look at my face and gasps, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Dios mío, Eve! What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing, Mamá. Just—”
“Nothing?” Her voice rises an octave. “You look like you were attacked by wild animals!”
“It wasn’t that bad—”
“This wouldn’t have happened if Luis was still taking care of you,” she says, and there it is. The manipulation I’ve been dreading. “A man protects his woman. He would never have let this happen.”
Daniel clocks his tongue. “Maybe we should be asking if Luis did this.”
The kitchen goes dead silent.
“What did you say?” Marco’s voice is dangerous.
“I’m just saying,” Daniel shrugs, “Eve breaks up with the guy, and suddenly she’s getting attacked? Seems convenient.”
“It wasn’t Luis!” I frown. “I haven’t seen him since we broke up two months ago!”
“Well, you’ll be seeing him tonight,” my mother says with satisfaction. “I invited him for dinner. He’s coming so you can apologize for whatever foolishness made you break up with him.”
The blood drains from my face. “You did what?”
“He’s a good man, Eve. He loves you. And after seeing your face like this, I know you need to make things right with him.”
“There’s nothing to make right!” I hiss, enraged. “We’re over! Finished! Done!”
Gabriella chooses that moment to waddle in from the living room, her pregnant belly leading the way. She takes one look at the tension and sighs.
“What’s happening now?”
“Your sister is being dramatic about Luis,” my mother informs her. “I’m trying to help her see reason.”
“Luis has a stable job, Eve,” Gabriella says, settling heavily into a chair. “He makes good money, and he will give you a good life. What more do you want?”
“I want more than that!” I explode. “I have a better job than Luis! I make more money than Luis, so don’t dangle his job in front of me. And I don’t need to be ‘taken care of’ by anyone.”
My mother’s face hardens. “That job. That damned job is what gave you this ego in the first place. It’s time you quit and focused on what really matters.”
“Are you insane?” I stare at her in disbelief. “Quit my job? The job I worked my ass off for?”
I whirl on Marco. “Did you know? Did you call me here knowing this ambush was waiting?”
“No,” he says firmly, shooting our mother a sharp look. “Mamá, you promised you wouldn’t bring Luis up.”
“I know what’s best for my daughter,” she fires back. “You need to stay out of this, Marco.”
“Mamá—”
“Enough!” My mother’s voice cracks like a whip. She marches over to where I dropped my purse and snatches my car keys. “You will not disrespect me in my own home, Eve. It’s time you got your act together and quit that job that’s filled your head with foolish ideas.”
“Give me my keys,” I say quietly, my voice shaking with rage.
“No. You’re going to sit down, wait for Luis, and apologize to him for your behavior.”
“Apologize?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who never paid a single penny for my college tuition. Easy for you to tell me to quit my job when you never invested in it!”
“Eve—” Marco starts.
“No!” I point at my mother. “I will quit my job when pigs learn to fly. And if you want to keep my car keys, you’re more than welcome to them. I’m done with this.”
I storm toward the front door, but my mother beats me there, her small frame blocking the exit.
“You are not leaving this house,” she says, her voice deadly calm. “Not until you apologize to Luis and fix this mess you’ve made.”
“The only mess here is the one you created by inviting my ex-boyfriend to dinner without asking me!”
“He’s not your ex-boyfriend. He’s your fiancé!”
“He’s not my anything! How is that so hard to understand?”
Behind us, I can hear my brothers arguing, my nephews starting to cry from all the shouting, and Elena trying to calm everyone down. The front door rattles as someone knocks.
My mother’s face lights up with triumph. “That’s Luis now.”
My heart sinks as she reaches for the doorknob. There’s nowhere to go—my mother guards the exit, my family fills the space behind me, and Luis is about to walk in with everyone expecting me to play happy reunion.
This is exactly why I stopped coming to Sunday dinners.