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“Give me a few minutes and I'll email you some recipes that won't be too difficult for you.”
“Muriella?”
“Yes, Carlos?”
“I've missed you. No wonder I've made so many poor choices. I didn't have you around to keep me straight.”
“Well, now you do. But I'm serious. I know you love her, and you don't want to let her go, but tread carefully.”
“I told her,” I blurted.
“That you love her? I thought you were going to wait.”
“It just came out.”
Muriella sighed. “That was very brave of you. I'm glad you told her how you feel.”
“I love you too.” I was becoming an emotional guy. It wasn't as bad as I’d thought it would be.
“Love you.”
I'd needed to hear that from her. It didn't fix anything, but it made me feel better. Good enough to take a shower while I waited for the email from Muriella.
True to her word,she sent the recipes and a detailed description of where the ingredients we had on hand were and which ones I'd need to purchase. She included the location of the pots and tools I'd need, and her recipes were easy enough for even me to follow. Having a purpose helped my bruised heart, kept me from thinking about why I was doing this now instead of later with Holly and Gabriel.
I prepared chicken enchiladas where all that needed to be done was to cook them in the oven. I wrapped the dish with aluminum foil and placed it in the refrigerator, then scrawled a note to Holly. It took me six times to find the right thing to say, and even then, I wasn't satisfied. How did I find the words when the ones I wanted to say would only be harder on her? If writingI love youon the whole notepad were an option, I'd have done it, but she'd think I was insane. Hell, I probably was.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Holly
It poureddown rain all afternoon, and I was late picking up Gabriel. He easily accepted my apology and explanation for my tardiness, but the sparkle in his eyes dimmed when he realized Carlos wasn't with me. In the back of a taxi, I tried and miserably failed at attempting to tell my son why Carlos wouldn't be around as much. He was too smart for me to fool, and in the end, I simply said it was the best thing for all of us if we had limited interaction with him. It sounded hollow to my own ears and felt completely wrong, but it had to be this way.
Gabriel's heart hurt as much as mine did, and he cuddled up with his head in my lap, clutching the cowboy Carlos had given him. The ride home was the first time I'd really stopped all day long, and a bone-deep weariness took hold. I prayed we had something edible in the refrigerator that wouldn't take much to prepare, simultaneously feeling like a disappointment as a mother for not knowing the contents of the pantry. That, along with hurting Gabriel and my aching heart, had me struggling to fight off a monster of a mood.
“I want to play soccer,” he said as soon as we stepped into our apartment. He helped me out of my coat before shrugging out of his own.
“Baby, it's raining outside. We'll have to wait until it stops.” I hung up our jackets. “Go change and then you can show me what you learned at school today.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Gabriel took off, and I went to the kitchen to see what I could scrounge up for dinner.
I opened the refrigerator door, and sitting on the center shelf was a casserole dish and a note perched atop the foil. I snatched the folded paper up and let the door slowly close on its own. I knew that handwriting, and it had my pulse speeding up at the sight. Curiosity over what the note said won out over being irritated he'd been in our home without my permission.
Placein the oven at 375 degrees for 30 minutes.
Enjoy.
Forget the dishes.
Take a bubble bath.
And don't be angry with me. Think of me as an invisible extra set of hands.
There wasan imprint in the shape of heart below the writing, like he'd drawn it on another draft and then thought otherwise. It was what he'd clearly wanted to put but hadn't, and that had me leaning against the counter for support, clutching the paper in my hands. Carlos meant well, and I was grateful for the trouble he'd gone to. I didn't care what was under that foil, so relieved not to have to think about dinner, but eating whatever he'd prepared was going to be painful.
I hadn't been able to put him out of my mind all day, halfway regretting I'd stopped him last night from taking me one more time before he left. It wasn't only the sex I'd thought about. His kindness to me and Gabriel was what I was missing already. He'd never have any idea how difficult it had been to send him away. I wanted everything he was offering, down to the apartment and his love for me and Gabriel. That was sheer insanity when I'd been so careful before, and now, after knowing him only a short time, I was willing to allow someone into our lives. There hadn't been a choice. Carlos had made himself at home with little argument from me and none from Gabriel. Now we were all paying the price.
It bothered me that Carlos had been so involved in the distribution of drugs, but not as much as the pain in his voice when he'd told me a little about his past. Horrific events had shaped him, and all I wanted to do was soothe that ache. I believed him when he told me he had only been in business with his father for the purpose of taking him down. I sensed he hated drugs worse than I did. My life had been on one end of addiction, his on the other, and somehow, we'd found one another. I could overlook whatever he'd been involved in if that chapter was over. But it wasn't. Just as my family suffered from the effects of addiction, he was trapped in a different way. I could never risk Gabriel.
