Page 63 of No Darker Temptation

“It’s not something I want anymore,” she continues to ramble as if she hadn’t heard me speak. “I mean, I’m not even thirty-years-old yet and he wants me locked up and knocked up like some kind of desperate housewife. I have another year and a half before I finish my doctorate and I’m lecturing at Hunter next semester. I’m at the beginning of my career and Brent wants me to get off birth control? Meanwhile he can’t unload a dishwasher? Is he fucking crazy? No, he’s too busy stalking my whereabouts to remember clothes need to be separated before washing. Did I tell you he ruined the beautiful satin dress I bought when we were here last summer and he didn’t even apologize⁠—”

“It’s all right, Kay.” I touch her hand. “I’m sorry I asked.”

Karina blinks at me a few times, as if remembering where she is. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears and gives a tight smile. “We should probably start heading back, shouldn’t we?”

Dazed, I manage to nod. “Yeah. We should.”

“Great. I’m going to the bathroom, ask for the check? And don’t pay for it!”

Karina grabs her purse and leaves in a hurry. The waiter stops by almost immediately after and hands me the check, mind still in a fog.

Because she didn’t say she didn’t want to have children anymore.

She said she didn’t want to have them with Brent.

Alejandro

“Happy birthday to you!”

Dahlia blows out the candles on her cake, and Diego takes the opportunity to scoop up a dollop of pale frosting and slash it across her cheek. She squeals and instinctively reaches for something, hand settling on a frosted cupcake, and she shoves into his chin before he can move away. Karina laughs as Lettie snaps a picture and Doña Ana rushes to gather up a handful of napkins.

That used to be Dad’s tradition. No matter how old we got, he’d always put frosting on our face while someone recorded. Since his passing, Diego has taken charge of this precious family tradition, reserved for just the three of us. I suppose with Dahlia here, it’s the four of us now.

Karina sets a pile of plates down on the table and gives the first slice to Dahlia. Glancing at Diego, she asks, “How big?”

Diego stops at the edge of the table and leans forward, standing so closely that her shoulder brushes against his chest when she turns and looks up at him. He barely casts a glance at the cake in question. “At least ask a man on a date first. We have feelings too, not just bodies.”

Karina brings the knife down on the corner of the cake, hacking off a crumbling piece that’s mostly frosting and fondant before shoving it against his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“It’s definitely bigger than this.” He looks at her and points to the slice she cut for him. “The car I’ll be driving us to our first date in. Not⁠—”

She casts a cheeky smile in his direction. “Stop flirting with me, Narvaez. I’m a married woman.”

“Never let a husband stop you from finding the love of your life, Rosario.”

A laugh leaves her and she returns to her cake cutting. Diego looks like he’s about to say more but he catches my death glare from across the room. Suddenly, he finds the tablecloth immensely distracting.

“Don’t tell us we missed the cake!” Beni laments as he enters the dining room, Dimitrio and the others close behind.

“¡Pasa, pasa!” Doña Ana urges them inside.

Beni presents Dahlia with two dozen balloons tied to the arm of a teddy bear almost taller than him, which she’s delighted by. Oscar and Pedro adorn the already heavily decorated room with more bouquets than I count; roses, lilies, peonies, marigolds, dahlias. Dimitrio’s the last one to enter and he’s holding a gift wrapped in dark red wrapping paper and tied with a velvet ribbon. He’s a man of few words but I know the second my eyes land on him something’s wrong. Instead of going to greet Dahlia he hovers near the entryway, one hand shoved into his pocket.

“Oh I love it!” Dahlia exclaims before throwing her arms around Oscar and Pedro. “Oh, I could kiss you!”

I snap to attention. “No you couldn’t.”

“Yes I could!” She’s so excited she’s practically screaming.

My tone turns accusatory. “What the hell did you get her?”

Oscar says, “I can’t buy gifts for shit. Pedro picked it out.”

Smiling smugly and still looking at Dahlia, Pedro says, “A pair of Timbs.”

I look down and notice the empty gift bag and box on the dining room table.

“I have to try them on right now, oh my God, I am freaking out.” Pedro pulls out a seat for Dahlia as she kicks off her heels. “Mine got ruined earlier this year when I knocked over a jar of paint.”