Chapter 7 #2
“What?” The shock in my brother’s voice doesn’t get rid of the numbness spreading within me. “Why didn’t you call me, Eve?”
“Call you?” I give him a bright smile, my jaw tense. “From what? Mamá hid my phone, remember? And my jacket. And my keys, along with everything else. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
My brother’s hands tighten around my belongings, and I see the guilt in his eyes. I scoff lightly, covering my hurt with anger.
I turn to face Caleb and Megan. “Thanks for the ride.”
Caleb is staring at Marco, looking irritated for some reason, but when he opens his mouth, his sister pinches his forearm with her nails and says quickly, “It’s no problem. We should get lunch sometime, Eve. I never get to hang out with Caleb’s friends.”
“We’re not friends.” Both of us blurt out the sentence simultaneously.
Megan looks between the two of us before slowly drawling, “Right.”
“Let’s go,” her brother says, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out. As he does, Megan looks over her shoulder.
“I meant it about that lunch, Eve!”
The door closes behind them, and I sigh.
Turning to face my brother, I take my things from him. “Thanks for bringing my stuff. You should get back to dinner.” I glance at the wall clock and add bitingly, “Though I guess dinner’s over by now. Mamá must have finally allowed you to leave to go look for me.”
I start putting my purse on the kitchen counter, but Marco’s hand catches my wrist.
“We thought you’d cut through the backyard and left with someone. We saw a girl getting in a car when we went to check the front door.” His grip tightens slightly. “It wasn’t until you called Rafael that we realized you must have walked.”
“You realized?” I pull my hand away, my throat burning with emotion. “How was I supposed to call anybody to pick me up, Marco? You knew she took my things, didn’t you?!”
The way he avoids my gaze gives me all the answers I need.
I let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know why I bother anymore.
I’m not coming home for dinner again, Marco.
I’m done. My chest hurts from breathing in all that cold air.
I still can’t feel my toes completely. Don’t call me again and try to guilt me into attending Sunday dinner.
I would rather stay at home from now on. ”
“I didn’t know she invited Luis,” Marco says quickly, and for the first time tonight, I hear real anger in his voice. “I was furious when he showed up.”
“Really, Marco? You had no idea? You didn’t expect our mother to pull something like that?”
Before I can respond, there is a knock on the door. “Eve! Open up!”
Recognizing my youngest brother’s voice, I open the door for him just as Marco says, “You could have stayed. You could have talked it out like an adult instead of running away like—”
“Like what?” I whirl toward him, ignoring the wide-eyed Rafael. “Say it, Marco. Like what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. “Like someone who doesn’t want to fix things.”
“Fix things?” I laugh, the sound harsh. “What exactly am I supposed to fix? The fact that I don’t want to marry a man who thinks I should quit my job and pop out babies? The fact that Mamá invited him to dinner without telling me? Or maybe the fact that she literally imprisoned me in that house?”
“She didn't imprison you—”
“She took my keys! My phone! My jacket!” I’m practically shouting now. “What would you call it?”
“She was trying to make you listen—”
“To what? To Luis explaining why my dreams don't matter? To Mamá planning my wedding to a man I dumped months ago?” I shake my head. “You want me to fix things? Here’s how we fix things: you tell Mamá to stay out of my life.”
Marco’s jaw tightens. “She’s your mother, Eve. She loves you.”
“She loves the idea of who she wants me to be. There’s a difference.”
“You’re being dramatic.” Marco stiffens.
“Am I? Is that why you didn’t stop her tonight? Why you didn’t tell Luis to leave when I asked you to?”
He doesn’t answer, and his silence pisses me off.
I square up against him, all five-foot-three of me facing down his six-foot frame.
“Tell me something, Marco. If I’m so desperate to get away from this man that I walked for hours in the freezing cold just to escape him, why do you still let Mamá do this to me?
I will never marry Luis. Never.” My voice gets louder, years of resentment pouring out.
“I worked my ass off for everything I have, unlike everyone else in this family.”
Marco flinches, and I see him open his mouth to protest.
“Don't you dare say that’s not true,” I snap.
“Your entire education was funded by Mamá. Yours, Antonio’s, Daniel’s, Miguel’s, and even his!
” I point towards Rafael. “All you boys got your choice of colleges. Mamá used the insurance money from Dad’s death on you, covered every expense so you could focus on your studies.
But I had to wait tables just to eat one meal a day in college and pay my own tuition.
While I was half-starving in college, trying to build a life for myself because Mamá didn’t want me to study any further, she was giving you the down payment for your restaurant. ”
Marco’s face has gone pale, but I’m not done.
“Nobody offered me money. Nobody worried about me. I killed myself to get to this point, and I will never let anybody take this away from me.” I step closer, my eyes cold as I meet his own.
“Even if it means walking away from my family forever, I will hold onto this life because I poured all my sweat and blood into building it.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Marco stares at me, and I can see the truth of my words hitting him.
Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet. “I’ll talk to Luis. Tell him to leave you alone.”
I’m about to say something else when Rafael gets between us. “Marco, you should head back. Elena’s probably wondering where you are.”
“I’m not leaving until—”
“Yes, you are.” Rafael jerks his head towards me. “Eve’s tired, you’re pissed, and nothing good is going to come from continuing this tonight.”
Marco looks like he wants to argue, but his shoulders slump. He walks over to me, pulling me into one of his bear hugs that always made me feel small and protected when I was little.
“I know I let you down sometimes,” he whispers against my hair. “I’m sorry for that. But I’m very proud of everything you’ve achieved, hermanita. Everything.”
My throat tightens, and I hug him back fiercely. “I know.”
After he leaves, Rafael flops onto my couch. “Alright, what happened?”
I settle on the armchair across from him. “I walked home, Rafael. Luis followed me in his car about two hours later, trying to force me to get in and go to his apartment to ‘talk.’”
Rafael’s face darkens. “No wonder he was in a hurry to leave and didn’t even stay for drinks. He seemed to be in bad shape, though.”
I bare my teeth at him. “Do you think I’m going to let anybody push me around that easily? His balls are going to need icing tonight.”
“That’s my girl.” My brother looks impressed. He stretches his arms, folding them behind his head. “You look pretty alive to have walked several hours in this weather. Guess you’re not hitting the gym tomorrow.”
I kick him, but he moves fast enough to avoid it.
“Mamá tried to send me after you when she realized you left. She panicked. But Luis said he saw you get in a car and leave. He convinced everyone not to go looking.”
I freeze. “He said what?”
“Said you called a friend, and you’d be fine.”
Cold fury washes over me. “He was deliberately trying to punish me. That’s so typical of him. He’s always been like this. This is one of the reasons I said I didn’t want to depend on him financially when he told me to quit the job after we got married.”
My younger brother watches me. “I always got the feeling your job made him feel insecure. You’ve always been so much more ambitious than him.”
“His ambition doesn’t matter to me, Raf.
It never did. If he was a halfway-decent person, I wouldn’t have cared.
But he’s petty and cruel and likes to punish me to break me.
I’m not going to tie myself to a man like that.
If it was bad when we were dating, imagine how much worse it would be once he had me quit my job and be completely financially dependent on him. ”
Rafael’s dark eyes tighten around the corners. “I never liked him. Neither does Daniel. Mom’s the one who’s got it in her head that because you two grew up together, you just have to marry him. Guy’s a jerk.”
“Mom likes him because he’s always sweet-talking her,” I scowl.
Rafael suddenly grins. “He was telling Mamá that he wanted to have white roses for the wedding, and Elena told him you hated white roses, and he was like, ‘Well, she’ll have to get used to liking them once I’m the man of the house.
’ He thought he really said something there.
Marco looked like he wanted to punch him in the throat. ”
“What did Mamá say?” I ask, leaning forward.
Rafael’s expression shutters, and he shrugs casually. “You know how she is. She thinks his word is gospel when he talks about your wedding.”
“What did she say, Rafael?” I say sharply, knowing it will hurt me but still needing to hear it.
My brother sighs. “She told Marco to stop coddling you. That you need a man to get you in line.”
My chest tightens, and I keep my voice neutral. “Did she now?”
“Eve…” Rafael straightens up. “Don’t let it get to you. She’s just obsessed with the idea of him being the only man who’s never given up on you.”
I sink back against the armchair, closing my eyes. “I moved out. I stay out of her hair. I don’t call her, don’t bother her. And yet she still wants to ruin my life. I’m convinced she hates me.”
Rafael chuckles, nudging me with his foot. “Come on. You know she doesn’t hate you. You’re just her problem child.”
“Thanks, Rafael.” I crack an eye open, my voice dry. “You really know how to cheer me up.”
“You’d be lost without me,” my brother sighs happily, earning him a cushion to the face.
He tucks the cushion under his arm. “Thanks. I’m going to crash here tonight.”
I roll my eyes at him as I get up to fetch him an extra blanket. He grasps my hand as I pass by, making me look down at him.
“You know I’ve got your back, right? Marco, me, all of us. If Luis crosses a line or even tries to, we’ll break every bone in his body.”
I squeeze his hand, my voice softening. “I know you do.”
The others, I’m not so sure.
As I get him the blanket, I recall the way Caleb came to my defense.
I told him I could handle it, that I knew what I was doing, but in that moment, if Luis had gone after me, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
Given how at odds we are at all times, having him help me makes me feel strange.
There’s a tightness in my chest. This isn't the first time that Caleb has protected me.
When Joshua's crazy fling came after me, he shielded me. He patched me up when he didn’t have to do any of those things.
I don’t understand him, or his intentions. Maybe he’s not as much of a jerk as I thought.
But then I remember how he smacked my ass, and my rage returns. He threw me over his shoulder and spanked me.
I don’t care if he was trying to help, I’m not letting that go.
* * *
By the next morning, I’m still torn between being grateful to Caleb Wilder for helping me or kicking his ass for daring to touch mine, but as I stop at the coffee cart outside our building, I end up buying two cups of coffee.
Black for me, and the other drowning in milk and sugar, just the way he likes it.
He did help me. The least I can do is be cordial.
I balance both cups carefully as I make my way up to the office, my shoulders squared and my chin up, determined to start this Monday on the right foot.
But the moment I step through the office doors, I freeze.
My desk—my perfectly organized, meticulously arranged desk—is completely buried under glittering pink wrapping paper.
Every single item has been wrapped: my stapler, my coffee mug, my pen holder, even individual pens.
The wrapping paper is obnoxiously bright pink with the word ‘PRINCESS’ printed all over it in glittering gold letters, mixed with little silver crowns.
“What the hell…” I breathe, taking a step closer.
My computer monitor is wrapped. My keyboard is wrapped. My desk lamp is wrapped so thoroughly it looks like a pink disco ball. Even my small succulent pot has been carefully wrapped while somehow leaving the actual plant exposed at the top.
I stand there staring at the glittering monstrosity that used to be my workspace, and despite my best efforts to stay cordial, anger builds in my chest like a wildfire.
Only one person calls me ‘Princess.’ Only one person would think this is hilarious.
Caleb.
He’s a dead man.