God, she sounded like a demon. A truly unlikable person when she wanted to be.
“Talking would definitely help,” Carlos interjected.
“Plus, you’re stuck in the car with us for the foreseeable future,” Ester added. “And you can’t sleep… so… why not talk with me and your brother about what’s going on in your head?”
“You can continue ignoring me and flirting with each other,” Alejandra muttered. “I can sulk right here. No problem.”
Ester’s face suddenly turned a shade of red Alejandra had never seen before. Was she going to combust right there in the passenger seat? Carlos, meanwhile, was throwing daggers at her through the rearview mirror.
“If I’m getting psychoanalyzed, then you two should too,” Alejandra wiggled her eyebrows, a devilish smirk spreading across her face.
“Gosh, you were right,” Ester said, turning back toward the front seat in defeat. “She’s horrible when she’s in a terrible mood.”
“I didn’t even say anything bad,” Alejandra defended herself. “I was just stating the truth.”
Carlos flipped her off while Ester turned an even more worrying shade of purple.
So she was right. They were indeed flirting. Had they already fucked? Had Carlos finally forgotten Amira?
The thought made her eyebrows lift slightly.
Somehow, that interested her. Gossip had always been an excellent distraction, and right now she could use one. But she didn’t want to hurt Ester by asking something so bluntly.
She was in a terrible mood.
She wasn’t a terrible person.
Silence settled inside the car after that, interrupted only by their occasional whispered comments that she tried not to listen to.
She tried to sleep again, but every bump sent a sharp protest through her shoulder, and eventually she gave up.
Unfortunately, the universe clearly hated her because she couldn’t even read in the car without throwing up. She had always considered herself lucky because the moment her ass touched any form of transportation, she fell asleep instantly. Apparently that superpower only worked when she wasn’t wearing a sling.
As the Portuguese landscape passed in a blur outside the window, dread slowly filled her bones. She was going to have to explain it. Over and over again. Every person would ask what had happened.
Because it was polite.
Because they were curious.
Because she had been running toward her third title and another Olympic medal, and now Amira’s path had suddenly cleared.
If Amira played her cards right, she could take it.
Maybe it was her time to shine.
Maybe she deserved it.
Maybe the universe had simply needed Alejandra to get injured to make space for someone else. Presumptuous, maybe. And maybe that was exactly why Mother Nature had decided to humble her down, reminding her who truly set the rules.
Not Alejandra.
Definitely not.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Alejandra finally said quietly as they passed Lisbon.
“Don’t worry,” Ester replied, turning slightly with a soft smile. “You’re going through a lot. I understand.”
Carlos nodded through the rearview mirror.
