Not to mention getting blood everywhere. Everything is so… white. And expensive. Maybe they have staff to clean that up for them.
Mr. de la Peña holds his hands up and bursts into a tirade in Spanish about how he never meant any harm by asking the question. From the fire in Ares’s eyes, I’m not sure he believes him.
Ares takes my hand on his lap, stroking the back of my fingers with rhythmic sweeps while my other hand flutters to my face. I’ve traced my ugly scars every day since the bandages came off and their ridges and twisted skin disgust me every single time but they’re part of who I am.
Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “I was in a car crash,Señor de la Peña. I had extensive facial injuries and a badly damaged arm.”
Abuelita’s lips are in a thin line. “You owe him nothing.”
Ares mutters in agreement.
Sr. de la Peña grunts, nodding, though I’m not sure if it’s at my answer or grandma’s acknowledgement that I don’t owe him anything. “We have connections. We could get someone to fix it for you.”
This time Abuelita reaches for her shoe.
I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed or affronted. I guess this is how people with money behave, like throwing a few dollar bills at an issue would make it go away.
Ares and Athena are both raising their voices to their father, and it’s my turn to stroke my boyfriend’s hand. I’m sure Mr. de la Peña meant no malice with what he said, but his bluntness and lack of empathy have definitely riled his family. And me.
“It’s okay, Ares.” I try to soothe him, even though it’s not okay at all. But he’s furious. He’s telling his father that while he might think it’s an innocent question, that it’s rude. He’s also using a few words I don’t understand, and I’m not sure I want to.
After a couple of minutes arguing back and forth with his family members in heated Spanish, Mr. de la Peña throws his hands up.
“I’m sorry, Eloise. Forgive me. Sometimes I have access to people that others might not and if you would ever like a consultation with some of the best plastic surgeons in the world, I could arrange that for you. That’s it. That is all I was trying to say. I meant no harm or offense with my question.” He glares at Ares, as though it pained him to apologize to me.
“I appreciate the very gracious offer,Señor. But I can’t afford to miss that much class at this point in my life.” I need to change the subject from my face before Ares explodes beside me or before I start digging a hole in the floor to swallow me up.
Gabriella uses that piece of information as a seed to a topic change as she asks what I’m studying in school.
“Nursing. When I was younger, I wanted to be a doctor like my mom, but I think nursing is a better fit for me.”
As we eat, my fingers caress the side of my face. My scars run from above my cheekbone to below my jaw line, and span from where my ear meets my neck to close to my nose. In parts. the skin is twisted like vines, and in others it has been stretched thin and almost but not quite smooth.
These scars remind me that I’m alive and my mother is not. No matter how many times he offered me the chance to visit with high flying doctors, I would decline. Erasing the scars would erase one more bit of her.
Ares drops his spoon to the table, pushes back his seat, and walks away. One of his brothers stands, I’m not sure which since one of them got a haircut, and now they both look identical, but I shake my head. It needs to be me who goes after him.
Not knowing what I’m going to face when I catch up with him, I drop my napkin onto the table, excuse myself, and follow in the direction of my angry man.
CHAPTER28
Eloise
Ares disappears up the grand staircase in the middle of the foyer, and part of me regrets not sending one of his siblings after him. I’m going to get lost and die in the belly of this ginormous building. They’re never going to find my body.
I tiptoe to the top of the stairs and follow the corridor to the left. An empty hallway stretches before me, identical white doors on each side, and no indication of where my stewing boyfriend has gone.
Thankfully, one door is open a crack, and I hope with everything I have that it’s the right door as I push it. He’s shirtless, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. The ink on his chest saysFamilyin black and red ink script that’s hard to read unless you get up close and personal with it.
Family.
His family is clearly complex, and he loves them all dearly. Is he tangled in knots about my dad? Or about his dad? Or is he rethinking our relationship?
“I’m fine,tesoro.”
I wave a hand at him. “You’re clearly not fine,cariño.” I take two steps toward him, and he takes a step back.
“He has no manners!Cabrón.” The words burst out of him with a flail of his arms. “He thinks because he’s rich he can say what he wants, to whomever he wants, without consequence.” He spins on his toes and takes a few steps in the other direction.
