Page 76 of No Darker Temptation

“How old were you when you came to live with your parents?”

“A newborn. Ramona was in no condition to raise a child. She couldn’t even stay sober throughout her pregnancy. I’m not exaggerating when I say my being born was a miracle. But…” He shakes his head. “That’s something else entirely and we don’t need to get into that right now.”

“And your mom…she accepted it?”

“Oh, she wanted to kill Dad at first. Actually, I think she beat the shit out of him with a pan full of hot oil. He had a scar on his right arm but he always used to make up crazy stories about how he got it.” He almost smiles. “He’d have loved the Hell out of you. Dad always thought Alejandro needed a partner unafraid to put him in his place.”

“I haven’t been doing much of that lately. I haven’t even spoken to him in the last week.”

Diego considers his words carefully. “You know, Mom could’ve been something if she hadn’t met Dad. She was a normal girl, just like you. Beautiful, brilliant, with her whole life ahead of her. The woman has two PhDs for Christ’s sake. There was so much more she was destined for but she loved our father with a ferocity and unwavering loyalty I doubt I’ll ever experience myself. And as much as we loved and still love our Dad, I think there’ll always be a part of Alejandro and me that resents him for preventing her from being everything she could’ve been.

“And I think if someone was to ask her today, she’d say she didn’t regret a second of it. When she had the chance to choose—a normal life or the one she could have with Dad—she chose him,” he says. “There’s still time for you to make that choice. Whether or not you want to stay or leave is entirely up to you. None of us would judge you and for what it’s worth, my brother would move Heaven and Earth for your happiness. If letting you go was the price he had to pay for that happiness, he would in a heartbeat, regardless of what it meant for him.”

Diego touches my hand gently. “But you do still have to choose, Dee. Because you can’t have both. Normal girls don’t lead lives like this and the girls who do aren’t normal. Figure that out first otherwise, you’ll never be at peace again.”

A TOKEN OF FORGIVENESS

Dahlia

“Diego and Lettie aren’t far behind. I won’t leave you alone in the hotel until they get there.”

I align my ruler on the blueprints in front of me before dragging my pencil across the block I want to separate. “Don’t let my presence inconvenience you.”

Alejandro looks up from his phone. After a beat, he sets it down. “Dahlia, you aren’t an inconvenience. How could you even think that?”

The flight attendant arrives, saving me from the need to respond. Sage sets down Alejandro’s drink and leaves a bowl of fruit next to me.

“Thanks, Sage.”

“Would you be needing anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Alejandro says, dismissing her politely. “We’d like to be alone for a while.”

Sage smiles and bows her head, leaving the main cabin before disappearing into the cockpit. Flying private is a luxury I haven’t yet grown accustomed to. It’s lavish and excessive, certainly, but I’m not used to how quiet and empty it is. Only Alejandro and I are on this flight because Diego stayed behind to wait for Lettie. She was on her way back from Trieste with Abuelo and didn’t want to fly into Madrid alone.

“Any idea on when the silent treatment will be over?”

After last night's talk with Diego, I’m unsure of where I stand with Alejandro. I love him and I don’t want to leave him but that doesn’t mean being with him is easy either. I hate that he feels I’m punishing him with my silence because I’m not. With so many emotions for me to sort through, it’s difficult to find the space and comfortability to do that when we’re together all the time.

I feel his eyes on me but I do my best to ignore it. My focus is on the blueprint in front of me and figuring out how to utilize the space in the attic and turn the roof into a functional outdoor space for next summer. Maybe a garden? A terrace? Haven’t decided yet.

“I hate that you aren’t speaking to me.”

“I’m not, not speaking to you.” I scribble something down in the margins. “Don’t you get sick of being with me every second of every day? Don’t you ever want some space?”

“Never,” he replies, quickly and with conviction. “Do you?”

The pencil wavers in my grasp. “Alejandro, you really hurt me.”

“I—”

“And I know you’re sorry but…you overwhelm me with your presence⁠—”

“I don’t care.”

The words get stuck in my throat. “What?”

“I said I don’t care. I love you and if you’re upset, I want you to talk to me instead of giving me the cold shoulder. Because that hurts.” His eyes narrow. “And frankly, I don’t believe you.”