Chapter 23 #2
“Ah, so you two shared a meal together?” I hear myself before I say it.
I say it anyway. “Tell me, tesoro, did you suck his dick right after?” I sneer and run my hand through my hair.
“Or maybe you showed him your perfect pair of tits.” I know I’m being an ass, but I’m too pissed to care.
She. Found. Comfort. In. Another. Man. Not me. She shared a meal with him.
“Max—”
“You know, I was at the restaurant with Annette, waiting for the others. Even then, I didn’t order food.”
“That’s not the same.”
I say over her. “I left because I wasn’t about to sit and have a meal with another woman.
I’m not one to disrespect the woman I love.
It seems you don’t give a flying fuck when it comes to us.
I didn’t seek comfort in another woman’s arms. Maybe I should go find the bitch and have her on all fours.
She wouldn’t give me lip and let me fuck her.
” All I see is red. “Better yet, I’ll fuck her in what was once our bed. ”
“Enough, Max!” Her chin trembles, and tears stream down her face. “I…I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s a teacher.”
“Exactly, and it’s not just any teacher, it’s the man who’s been pining for you for a long damn time. You know how I feel about him.”
She takes steps toward me, but I take steps back. “Max.”
Something inside me breaks, and fury floods my veins. “Traicionera.” I throw the word “traitor” at her.
She goes still. “I’m not a traitor. How could you say that? I’d never hurt you, Max,” she cries out. “I don’t know why he sent flowers.” She sniffles. “No soy traicionera.” Her voice cracks on the last word.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” I toss the endearment word back at her. “Maybe you two just got close,” I muse.
“Let’s talk, Max, please. You’re not listening to me. I love you.”
I crumble the card in my hand. “I will always love you.” I point to me and her. “This is where I draw the line and cut the ties. We are done. It was over for me when you went to him instead of me.”
She wipes her face, trying to control herself. Her makeup is a mess. “No, Max, please. If we just talk.”
“I’m done talking to you. I waited for you to come to me. I gave you space and respected that.”
“Max, I’m—”
“I. Don’t. Want. To. Hear. It.” Each word lands flat and final. “Do me a favor and don’t look for me.” I pick up the vase. “You gutted me, baby.” I bite the top of my lip and shake my head. “I knew we’d be each other’s downfall.” But I was ready to make her my forever.
Something hot stings behind my eyelids. I blink three times, hard.
From behind the door comes a muffled sound—a sharp intake of breath, then another.
I grip the vase so tightly my fingertips turn white, then toss it onto the back seat, where it lands with a hollow thud against leather.
Luckily, it doesn’t break, but the water spills.
The engine growls to life. As I pull away, her sob catches in my ears, hooks somewhere beneath my ribs. My jaw clenches. She did this.
Why does the radio station always play the most fitting songs when you’re in a certain mood? “Mariposa Traicionera” by Maná plays. How ironic, the wildfire butterfly turned treacherous.
Twenty minutes later, my knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel, parking at the university, ready to pay the asshole a visit.
My sneakers squeak on the polished floor. I walk to a tall woman talking her ears off to another woman. “Where can I find Professor Mills?” I ask, holding a vase in my hand, interrupting her conversation.
Her eyes widen, and she blushes. “You’re the boxer…um, Cano.”
I nod.
“Um…I love boxing. It runs in my family.” Right now, I don’t give a fuck about her family hobbies. “Could I have your autograph?” She hands me a torn piece of paper. I sign it without looking at her. My name means nothing to me right now.
“Where do I find the professor?” I bark. My patience is running thin.
“Oh, sorry.” She laughs. “Down that hall.” She points.
I follow where she pointed. His name is on a gold plate.
I stand there for exactly one second. Then I open the door.
The dickhead looks up, and the color of his face drains, but he holds a smirk that dissolves when I shove the flowers in his face, and the vase rolls off with a shatter.
I grab the collar of his pressed suit jacket and lift him up slightly.
His feet barely touch the floor. “What the fuck have I told you?” I shout.
“She’s not yours either,” he argues, trying to wrestle my hands away.
My loud, thunderous laughter fills the space. “That’s where you’re wrong. She’s always been mine. Since the very first day we met.” I shove him back in his seat.
Alex tosses the flowers to the floor. “So you’re pissed because I have been giving her attention. Where were you?” A smirk grows. “I could smell her arousal. She wanted me to fuck her tight little—”
I don’t give him a chance to say anything about her. My knuckles crack against his cheekbone before I even realize I’ve swung. The impact vibrates up my arm. He staggers backward and catches himself against the desk.
Blood pounds in my ears. “Did you touch her?” I shout.
The asshole rubs his cheek. It’s already swelling up. “No.”
I lunge forward, sending a stack of documents cascading to the floor.
My hands wrap around his neck. “Stay the fuck away from her. I’m not going to repeat myself.
She’s my woman. Mine.” There might not be an—us, but she will always be a part of me.
She’s embedded herself deep down to the bone.
A part of me believes she wouldn’t seek comfort between the sheets, but she was going through a lot and still is.
“She’s not an object. You don’t own her,” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath.
I cock my head. “No, she’s not. But you know what she is?
Mi vida. I have fought for her in every way possible.
I fought with my fists to save her, to give her everything she deserved.
I didn’t do it for me. So yes, I can say my woman because I have earned her and the title of being the man in her life.
” I add a little more pressure. “Don’t ever send her flowers, and if I ever see you look at her with interest, consider yourself dead.
” I let go, and he exhales dramatically.
“Is that a threat?” he chokes out.
“No, professor dickhead, it’s a promise. Accidents can occur at any time.” Okay, I know I’m talking shit to scare him. I won’t kill, but I will make his face unrecognizable. A knock at the door has me step back.
A woman with glasses walks in. “Is everything okay?”
“Perfect. The professor here was just telling me what would happen if he got choked out. It had me wondering if the lack of oxygen would cause amnesia, because it would be a pity if he forgot who his students are.” I wink. “Laters, pendejo,” I shout and walk off.