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“There’s nothing wrong with you.” His defensive tone had a slight smile tilting up one corner of my mouth.
“I’m not crying or cursing Eva’s name. I’m not demanding you tell me where my father is…shouldn’t I be doing these things?”
“No, you simply aren’t expending energy on problems you can’t fix. Problems that should have never fallen on your shoulders to deal with in the first place.”
“But—”
“Stop feeling guilty about being content to be free. You’ve lived your entire life in your family’s shadow of shame. You’re allowed to want more, amada. You deserve more.”
A full smile overtook my face this time. I reached up and cupped his cheek, smoothing my thumb over his stubble.
“That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
“It wasn’t sweet, it was the truth,” he retorted, turning his head to kiss my palm. “But, we do need to talk,” he murmured after another beat, lifting away from me. “I’m going to shower, and then there’s something else you need to see.”
I opened my mouth to ask for more of an explanation, and then realized who I was dealing with. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer.
Flopping flat on my back, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering what skeleton was about to fall out of the closet next.
Chapter Ten
We were close to the end.
I readied the media player in the theater room, feeling Elena’s eyes on me the entire time.
“Does this ever end? Are you always going to evade my questions with riddles?”
I glanced back at her and withheld a sigh. She was curled up in a corner of the sectional with a throw wrapped around her shoulders, dressed simply in sweatpants and a tank top.
Physically, Elena looked as youthful as ever. Mentally, she was b
eyond her years.
I knew I’d contributed to that aging, but her family were the real villains of this story.
“Does it end? For me, never. For you, it’s almost done. When that happens, we’ll be married, and you’ll finally be able to enjoy living freely for once.”
“Married,” she hummed, glancing at her ring for a few seconds. “Does marriage include pot roast every Sunday and little baby Mateos running around?” she smirked, laying her head on the arm of the couch.
“I don’t like pot roast. And I prefer two of each, but I’ll be grateful for whatever your body blesses me with.”
She blinked up at me, seeing I was serious. Knowing we had plenty of time to discuss me putting a baby in her stomach, I changed the subject.
“I want a new deal.”
Her softened expression morphed into a petulant scowl I struggled not to laugh at.
“There was never a ‘deal’ in the first place. If there was, you already screwed up your side of it. You haven’t told—”
“Just watch the video, and then hear me out,” I interrupted, taking a seat beside her.
Hitting play, the screen switched from blue to the vividly clear footage of a seafood restaurant.
I’d seen the scene in this footage unfold at least ten times, analyzing it over and over to be clear I understood what was happening.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
Her mother sat in a private booth with Elena’s uncle. There was no mistaking what they were doing. Samuel was whispering in her ear and planting kisses along her jaw line.
