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“Nope,” he answered, setting a plate of three waffles topped with bananas and chocolate chips in front me.
“Where’s the chocolate syrup?”
“I was making it healthier,” he mocked me as he poured syrup over his own stack of waffles.
“If you’re determined to make me fat, you should commit to it.”
“No one’s forcing you to eat.”
“Fine, I’ll go—”
“Here,” he snapped, drowning my waffles in brown, sugary, artery-clogging syrup. “Happy?”
“Over the moon!” I grinned, cutting into the waffles and stuffing my face. “So, what are you upset about?”
“I’m not upset,” he said as he rammed a forkful of waffles into his mouth.
“Okay,” I nodded, knowing he’d spill soon enough. Since we were young, whenever he’d felt bad or annoyed, he’d come to the kitchen for chocolate and banana waffles.
“Who do you think this Gabriel guy is?”
“An arranged fiancé for Dona,” I answered. He exhaled through his nose, chewing angrily. “Not the guy you wanted?”
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. He’s a stranger who knows too much about us—”
“Us or Dona.”
“Dona is us and he knows too much. He acts as if he’s already family!”
“I mean, seeing as how your parents gave him their word, it looks like—”
“Why are you being difficult?”
I coughed, almost choking on a piece of banana. “I’m being difficult? Me?!”
“Yes, you!” He pointed his fork at me. “You should be saying let’s hack into whatever mumbo-jumbo zeros and ones computer system to find out the truth!”
“First, mumbo-jumbo is a phrase used to describe a meaningless language; hacking into multiple agencies, departments, and/or personal databases is simply called a background search.”
“There you are, being difficult!” He groaned, waving his fork at me.
Smacking his hand away, I held my fork out to him. “I’d rather be difficult than be a sourpuss just because your sister might be engaged.”
“This!” He shook his head in confusion. “Why is everyone so okay with this idea that he’s legitimately engaged to Dona? We don’t know him. He could be a serial killer.”
“If he’s one, you’re are too; so, Dona will be fine,” I answered. He glared at me and I glared right back.
“Dona is my sister.”
“Dona could be his wife.”
“Could…could,” he replied angrily. “As in, not yet. So why the fuck is he on such goddamn high horse?”
“It’s a very strong possibility…” I drifted off when his eyes met mine, this time stuffing more of my waffles into my mouth and telling him to do the same. “Eat or they’ll get soggy.”
He pouted like a child before eating. He only managed two large bites before his head snapped up again. “He tried to kill her.”
“No, he didn’t.”
