Chapter 16 #2
“Ow,” he says flatly. “When I was trying to open your bag of chips, you moved it.” He’s not wrong, but I beat him once, and he can’t accept it, so he’s having us play again. I just want someone to win so I can dance in our room.
“Can you just accept the fact that you’re a sore loser. You can’t win them all.”
He groans and then rolls onto his back. “You’re right. I hate losing.” He smiles. “I used to play with my dad. He taught me how to beat anyone. You’re the first person to win against me.”
It’s been a while since he mentioned his dad. “Do you want to be a dad someday?”
He’s quiet for a long minute.
“I would. I would teach him to play sports and board games. I want to be a good dad. How mine was once.”
My chest warms. We pinky promise about just anything.
Even us getting married someday. Although it might not happen, we might lose one another.
This place is temporary. The pinky promises give us hope for the time being.
It gives us something to hold on to. “Let’s pinky promise to have kids someday.
You can teach him to be a boxer,” I tease.
Max and Drake are always watching boxing in Drake’s bedroom.
His pinky is out waiting for mine. I loop mine in his. I see a galaxy in his eyes—a promise.
For me, all I feel is uncertainty.
Now that we have more employees, I can open on Sundays until noon.
I flip the sign and turn on the lights. Last night, I was exhausted from visiting Hector, and when Leo dropped me off, I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until this morning.
The best part is no morning sickness today.
The smell of freshly baked bread and coffee fills the room.
I feel refreshed and ready to start the day.
I hum as I organize the bookshelf and dust around it.
There are so many books, and I haven’t had the chance to read in the last couple of months.
I always loved reading to Max, even the spicy scenes.
He would always raise his brow and say, “You want me to do that to you?” I called him twice.
I let it ring. Halfway through, it’s as if it’s clicked to end the call.
I tried again five minutes later, my heart in my throat, and the same thing: five rings, then straight to voicemail.
It’s unlike Max to avoid my calls. Perhaps things have changed for him.
Now that there is a child in the middle, it complicates things.
A child he doesn’t know about. How many times have I tried?
I shake my head, sighing. I might just have to go to his workplace.
Rambling whispers come from behind me. I pivot and see Isabella whispering something to Danny and Melissa. “ándale, go.” Isabella hurries them with a stack of newspapers.
The woman I hired to clean from Needs for Teens has her gaze pinned on the bowls she’s washing.
My brows furrow. Those are today’s papers that were delivered.
Melissa and Danny sprint toward the back door.
I’m about to stop them when Isabella puts her hands together in prayer.
She proceeds to peer at the ceiling and prays, I assume.
I can’t hear her whispers. She wipes her tears.
Shoving the book back onto the shelf, I call out, “Isabella, is everything okay?” I follow after her as she sprints to the back. She takes a concha from the hot pan. When she tears it, the steam rolls off it.
“Nothing,” she mumbles with a mouthful.
“You’re not acting as if nothing is wrong.” She’s stress eating, so something must be wrong. She takes another bite. Her eyes are wild on me. The back door shuts, and Melissa and Danny walk in with the newspapers still in hand. Isabella’s gaze flies toward them.
“Water,” she rasps.
Frantically, I rush over to the kitchen sink.
Why is it that when you’re looking for something, you can’t find one?
I need a cup. I rush to the front counter to get one.
When I speed walk, balancing the cup of water in my hand, I’m bewildered by the woman in front of me, Isabella.
She gets up, urging them to leave with her hands.
“What is going on?” My voice sharpens at the craziness going on in front of me.
“We can’t find the recycling bin outside,” Melissa finally says.
I set the water down on the steel table and walk toward them.
“I’ll show you.” Isabella rushes past me. “I got it.”
“Isabella, slow down. Go sit down, please,” I tell her in our native tongue. “I think you might need a vacation. I have overworked you.” She has taken on a lot of the role here over the past few months.
She shakes her head, her gaze crawling over me like a slow-moving insect.
Melissa and Danny stand before me, their faces a matched set of blank stares.
I understand now. I’ve never been the type to clutch pearls.
At this moment, I need something to hold onto, so my hands go straight to my shirt.
I clutch the fabric between my fingers until my knuckles go white, my pulse hammering against my throat like a trapped animal.
My beating heart tightens, then it agonizingly drops to the pit of my stomach.
I called him last night, and he was with her.
That explains why he sent me straight to voicemail.
Max Cano makes the headline news. By his side, the beautiful Annette.
I take a newspaper from the stack Danny is holding.
She’s wearing a gorgeous blue dress that imprints every toned curve.
The off-the-shoulder reveals her muscular form.
Max is handsome as ever, wearing a three-piece suit.
All in black. He’s not looking at the camera; it seems he’s talking to someone.
You can’t see the person, but Annette is glowing; her smile is from ear to ear.
The headline reads: Boxing Champion Max Cano doesn’t go unnoticed at Charity Gala.
The article continues. Cano, fresh from his decisive victory over Patrick Ferraro, attended Saturday’s fundraiser with his companion, the striking Annette Flores, an undefeated fighter in her league.
Despite his recent triumph in the ring, the undefeated fighter moved through the event with surprising anonymity.
Companion?
Blood drains from my body, and I no longer feel the warmth I felt mere minutes ago.
Max Cano spotted at a jewelry store. Could he be proposing to Miss Flores soon? Do we see wedding bells in the near future? Another headline reads with a photo of Max at a jewelry store.
Nobody moves. The bread smell is still there. The fluorescent open sign is still buzzing. “Mija.” Isabella’s voice is low and soft. Her hand rubs my back in a circular motion. She was trying to protect me from seeing this. “It could be nothing. You know the way the media is.”
“Hello?” a female voice calls out from the counter.
“I’ll get that.” Melissa’s soft voice drifts toward the register.
“And I’ll find the recycling,” Danny says.
What if it is something? I practically gave him the blessing to move on. But why her? And why so quick? My thoughts trail back to Carlos. Was he right?
Isabella’s gaze is on me like a worried mother. Words don’t come. I’m numb. I never thought he would do me dirty like this with the one woman who’s wanted him from the beginning.
“I called him twice last night when I woke from my nap. I was going to ask him to come to the house so we can talk.” I grip the metal table.
“The calls were canceled.” Pain in my chest hits like a lightning strike.
The thought of him having her in his bed makes me nauseated. My hand goes to my stomach.
“Mija, come, let’s go to the office so you can sit. Take deep breaths. You’re carrying a baby, and you don’t want to get sick.”
She’s right. I need to control myself.
She drags the chair toward me, its wheels protesting against the tile floor.
My bottom hits the seat, and my head falls to the back of the chair as I take a deep breath.
My gaze goes to the camera. I’m not sure if he still checks in on me…
A pained laugh cracks inside me. Not anymore.
If he’s watching, he’s probably seeing if I’ll run to him and beg for him back. I won’t, not if he’s touched her.
“I just…I find it hard to believe,” Isabella murmurs. She’s just as shocked as I am. “I don’t understand.”
Everything just became more complicated if he is with her. I don’t want her in my child’s life, and if he wants a chance for us to become a family, it won’t happen. I will not have a man be with me only because I’m carrying his baby. This is where I draw the line.