Page 68 of No Greater Oblivion

I answer with a shrug. “I ran into an old friend today.”

“A friend?” he asks with suspicion.

“One from New York. She’s doing a semester abroad at BIS and we bumped into each other. We spoke for a little while,” I say. “I don’t know. Talking to her put a lot of things into perspective. I guess I’ve been feeling a little lonely.”

“I think you’re stressed out and need a vacation,” he remarks flippantly, as if intending to make a joke out of it. “God knows I need one too.”

I almost break my neck turning to look at him. “I’m telling you I feel emotionally neglected by the man I rearranged my entire life for and your response is that we need a vacation?”

He stiffens. “No, of course not⁠—”

“I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened by my feelings.” I snatch my book off the nightstand and get out of bed. “I’ll take my grievances with me to the next room.”

“Dahlia, espera⁠—”

I leave and slam the door shut behind me, almost hoping it’ll fly open a few seconds later.

I don’t know why I’m disappointed when it doesn’t.

The next day, I have a plan.

I don’t foresee any improvements to my situation in the near future which means I have to take matters into my own hands. Whatever’s going on with Alejandro is directly tied to the part of his “work” I don’t see and while I’d typically turn a blind eye to it, I won’t continue to do so as long as it affects our relationship. He wants my unconditional support and trust? Fine. In exchange, I want answers.

“I want you to explain the family business to me.”

Lettie drops her toast.

The three of them exchange glances across the breakfast table. Diego gets up and grabs his orange juice and newspaper, while Lettie quickly finishes the last of her green juice and scrambles to get away. Alejandro simply frowns.

“Don’t leave.” I pull out a chair at the other end of the breakfast table, toss down a journal, and sit. “I have questions for you too.”

Cautiously, Alejandro sets down his coffee. “That isn’t something you need to concern yourself with.”

“I’m a part of this family, aren’t I?” I lift a brow. “Shouldn’t I know what the family does? Considering this is my life now.”

None of them speaks. Diego gives in and sits while it takes Lettie longer to surrender and return to her poached eggs and toast.

“I don’t want to be the woman who has the door closed in her face. I want to be in the room when the thing happens. You can’t expect me to be with you, live with you, possibly marry you and have children with you one day if I haven’t the slightest idea of what I’m actually getting into.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Alejandro asks.

I flip open my journal. “I made a list of questions for all three of you. Are we going to talk about it or not?”

Diego opens his mouth to speak.

“And don’t bother switching to Spanish,” I warn. “I’ll understand you.”

“I liked it better when you and Doña Ana weren’t practicing all the time,” he remarks.

“If you were better at Catalan…” Lettie sing-songs in Alejandro’s direction.

Her brother cuts her a look. “My Catalan is fine.”

“Look, I couldn’t care less either way.” Diego shakes out his newspaper and returns to the page he was reading. “Ask my brother, it’s up to him.”

“No, it’s up to me. I want to know. Either answer my questions or I’m leaving.”

This catches Alejandro’s attention. “Leaving?”