7 - LARA
Laura is all warmth, greeting me as if she actually missed me. Does she, though?
I think I hide my disgust and shock at seeing him pretty well.
“This is my fiancé, Adam Devereaux.”
Why does she need to say his last name? Is that part of these people’s act? Oh, God… it can’t be! This is too much, universe! They can’t have anything to do with… oh, no… I’m done for.
“We finally meet the sister,” this Olavo guy shouts, crossing the space between us and hugging me. I feel the impact in every sense of the word.
“Easy there, friend,” Nicolas says, pulling him away politely. “Our sisters are precious.”
Adam excuses himself and moves away. David—the blond from that night, I recognize him now—the one who started with Titi and ended up with Tatá, follows his friend, along with Olavo.
Nicolas moves closer to me, glances around discreetly, and whispers in my ear.
“That one who hugged you? He’s a catch. Rich too. Not as rich as Adam, but totally worth it, and he’s single—they want to marry the idiot off in November.”
“Yes!” Laura gets scarily excited while I’m still trying to make sense of this insane situation. “Lara, it would be perfect. Me with Adam and you with Olavo. By the way, my maternity dress looked great on you—you don’t even need to return it, keep it, I’ll buy another.”
Pregnancy? The word echoes. My brain does another spin.
“Fuck,” Veruska chimes into the whispers around me, as if the brilliant idea just hit her, “that would seriously up the payout. Nic, master move.” She stands with her back to the guests, groping my brother’s crotch. She smiles. I want to vomit. For real.
I shake my head, stepping away from them—they don’t even notice, too busy scheming. So that’s what this is, a scam. Serves them right, then! All these hypocrites. Damn them!
I enter the house, not quite sure what to do.
The living room is so surreal. The door to what used to be their sex den is open.
I turn and see Natanael coming out, zipping up his fly.
Behind him, Tati, adjusting her dress. On the wall beside it hangs a huge painting of the pompous family—it looks like one of those museum portraits from two centuries ago.
The parents seated in the center, behind them standing: Natanael, Laura, and Nicolas.
A glaring contrast with my brother and sister-in-law who just fucked in secret—the crazy family she knows is right there.
Right there. Nat smiles. Tati gives a little wave. Both head to the garden.
I take a deep breath. I follow the hallway. I stand in front of the door to what used to be my room. I hesitate. I open it slowly. I step inside. Lord have mercy!
My room is practically intact. It’s like going back in time, complete with a haunting. Mom is sitting on the bed. She’s holding something.
“I knew you’d come, my daughter. My heart told me.”
“You tricked me.”
“Still, you could have stayed away. You came. You’re here, which makes me so happy. We missed you.”
“This,” I look around, walk a bit, “is crazy.”
“We would never get rid of any memory of you.”
Seriously, I feel like I’m in one of those good horror movies.
She sets the stuffed bear on the bed—I didn’t even remember having it—gets up, walks past me, and closes the door.
It’s a horror movie!
“I know all this seems strange to you,” she begins explaining.
“We need to look respectable for the groom’s family.
Laura is head over heels in love—I’ve never seen her like this.
They even went to Germany to meet some important businessmen.
Adam respects your sister so much. It’s such a beautiful love story, those two.
” She picks up a notebook from the dresser.
“Look, we even kept your notebooks, with your notes, your studies. Natanael told us how you made it in life. We were so proud.” She smiles, leafing through it and setting it back down.
“Nicolas didn’t want Laura to get involved like that, you know how protective he is.
You remember? Of course you do. But we met Adam’s family, and everything got better.
We got along so well. Nicolas renovated everything.
The house turned out beautiful. The shopping day was splendid. ”
“Did he give everyone a dictionary too?” I can’t help it—it just slips out. I know, I know, you shouldn’t poke the monster in the movie.
“Lara, you always wanted us to be better, at least by your standards. You never agreed with our way of life. Now that we’re what you wanted, you don’t like it?”
She doesn’t change her tone even once. Unbelievable.
“I never wanted you to be… like this. You know what? I don’t care. This is all too bizarre.”
I walk out, leaving her behind in a past I intend to forget completely.
There’s no way to make peace—no, not at all.
I walk quickly down the hallway. I spot Paula, David’s wife.
I duck into the first door on my right. My parents’ room.
Crap! I want to tear this dress off. Disappear from here.
I grab my phone and start a group call. Pri and Barbs answer quickly.
I barely get a word out before I hear them calling for the toast. Someone says my name.
I hate drawing attention. Especially in this house.
I hang up. I want this to end as soon as possible.
On the way, David stops me.
“That night never happened, keep your mouth shut.”
That’s what he whispers. Whether he would’ve said more, I don’t know. His wife shows up all smiles, telling him everything’s fine. I excuse myself and get away from them.
Who does he think he is? Ridiculous!
I get to the door leading to the backyard and hear the speeches.
Fake! Well, I don’t know, maybe Laura’s is real, in a way.
His is genuine. Definitely. He loves her.
It was his bachelor party. So why was Olavo wearing the groom sash and that ridiculous little headband?
Screw it, I don’t care! He’s looking at me—must be scared I’ll say something.
That’s why he sent his little buddy to talk to me. Jerk!
I sit at one of the tables farthest away.
The one closest to the exit. I’ll wait a bit and slip out.
Just as I’m about to leave quietly, I hear murmurs, some applause.
Laura leads Adam to the dance floor. They’re both beaming.
Their dance is actually beautiful. Nic should’ve made them take English classes.
Do they even understand the lyrics to I Can’t Make You Love Me by Tank?
Who chose it? Was it chosen deliberately?
Is it random? I notice some guests stifling their laughter.
The couple doesn’t seem to notice, wrapped up in their bubble of happiness.
I sigh. What do the lyrics matter? There, in each other’s arms, what matters is what they feel.
“If you need some cash,” my father sits down next to me, “you can count on me, kiddo.”
His hand lands on mine on the table. I pull away instantly.
“Don’t worry, I don’t need it.”
He starts with some lame small talk. I want to cut him off, but there are people nearby—it would look weird. From what I gather, I’m the runaway daughter. The black sheep. Ugh!
Suddenly, I sense two people beside me, standing.
The couple of the hour. Laura insists Adam dance with his sister-in-law.
My father says there’s no need for that sacrifice—he volunteers himself.
He stands up. I stand up fast. I take Adam’s hand, which Laura extends toward me.
I hurry across the lawn with him. Running away.
I start to dance. Out of nowhere, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling us close.
His gaze is glassy. I don’t know this man.
How did I end up in this situation? I’m in the middle of the far-from-simple engagement party dance floor of Borbón royalty—being quite ironic—with Devereaux royalty—crap, not ironic at all now—in his arms, and he barely looks at me.
Threatened from all sides. He doesn’t even seem to hear me.
Now that I know who he really is, he’s ignoring me?
Jerk! No matter who he is, he’s a jerk. Something rises in me that I can’t even name.
I’m a Borbón, aren’t I?
I’ll show these rich kids and their fake elite what the roots of this dysfunctional family are made of. What I’m really not—but learned to be when I have to.
“You think your little friends’ threats scare me?
” I face him without fear. With Nic’s fury in my veins.
The fury I watched so many times at home, on the street, at school.
“I might not say anything, but I know exactly how to act. You know I do. Oh, you know, SB!” I draw out each syllable.
Impossible for him to ignore me now. I provoke him, undulating my body.
“Men can fake almost everything, my daughter, but the head down below can’t”—Mom taught Laura that lesson well, and I learned it in the process.
Adam’s eyes widen. I feel him pulse against me.
Laura might really be in love with him. I don’t know.
I can’t judge that or play with it. I pull away from his arms, down drinks—I don’t even know what they are, just throw them back—flirting with everyone, not him anymore.
I drag people onto the dance floor. I pack it full.
I see the table where the couple’s relatives sit.
Incredulous. I hand out kisses indiscriminately, squeeze asses belonging to faces I don’t recognize.
I dance freely. I throw my shoes in the air. Screw them all!