The message plays and just as I go to delete it, Tomás takes my phone from me, waving it in his possession for emphasis as he speaks. “Please tell me this isn’t how he usually talks to you?”
“Well…”
“That’s not okay. He’s a fucking bully.”
I scoff. If only he knew the half of it.
Tomás leans forward, grabbing hold of my chin, tipping it upwards. “I mean it. No one should talk to you like that, especially not your father.”
My hand lifts, grabbing onto his. “I know,” I breathe, saddened by the reality that is my family tree. “He wasn’t always this bad.”
Tomás looks unconvinced.
“I mean, he was never overly loving or warm, but the years have hardened him. And then, once my grandma passed away, it’s like whatever goodness he had buried in him, disintegrated.”
“I know better than anyone, what loss can do to a person. Losing my father, was,” he stops himself, clearing his throat, “is, one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. But it’s no excuse to mistreat your loved ones.”
Everything he’s saying feels like an arrow to the heart.
“I can’t argue with you there, but if nothing, else I appreciate you doing this for me. Even if it’ll only temporarily get him off my back.”
Tomás’ brows lift, urging me to continue. My heart aches as I speak words that I haven’t even told Lorena, or anyone other than him for that matter.
“Even if it’s temporary. Once you and I part ways, he’ll use it as the fuel he needs to remind me that I’ll never find anyone, and I’ll never be able to get what is owed to me.” My head falls as I rub my barren ring finger. “My grandmother always wore rings my grandfather custom made for her himself on each finger.They weren’t overly expensive, or flashy, but they were beautiful. Each one held a sentimental story, and my grandma always said that when she was no longer around, they would all go to me since my sister never expressed interest in them like I did.” The ache progresses as I wrap up this unexpected stroll down horrid memory lane. “But when she passed, and her will was read, there was an unexpected stipulation. All the jewelry would go to me once and only if I am married. Something my dad loves to rub in my face constantly, since he can’t understand why I broke off an engagement he arranged for me.”
Regret fills me for sharing since Tomás hasn’t said a word. Not that I can blame him, that was… a lot.
He grabs his phone, thumbing away at it.
Great, this is what I get for once again oversharing.
He’s probably ordering himself a ride to get the hell away from me.
I spring to my feet, figuring I will get this over with and part ways now before things become more awkward than I’ve already made them, but to my surprise, he stops me, taking my hand and pulling me toward him.
“You ever see the Met all lit up at night?”
Whiplash would be the only way to describe how I’m feeling in this moment.
“Did you listen to a word I said?”
“Every single one. Which is why I would like you to come back to my penthouse…”
“Why? So you can take advantage of my sad girl moment and fuck me?” There’s an accusatory tone to my voice, that feels misplaced. From the little I know about him; he definitely does not strike me as that kind of guy. Still, this whole conversation post my trauma dump feels off.
Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses it. “Trust me. I would never take advantage of you. I have an idea.”
“That requires me to be in your penthouse?”
“Are you against going to my penthouse?”
“No,” I breathe.
But I know I go there, I’m not going to be able to maintain this thin wall between us.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But I figure the backdrop of the Met lit up would make what I propose more special.”
My eyes narrow. “What exactly do you have in mind?” His lips travel to my empty ring finger, kissing it as he just did my hand.
