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"What capacity is that, Noelle?" I repeat the question, curious what she has in mind.
After all, no moment goes by in which I am not surprised by her, or her words. She's speaking freely for the first time—showing herself to me for the first time.
And I find myself…captivated.
I'm utterly fascinated by every little thing that comes out of her mouth.
"I don't know," she whispers hesitantly. "I could be…your servant. I'll take care of all your needs. You don't even need to talk with me as long as you let me be near you."
"You're telling me you're fine with living the rest of your life in silence?"
She mulls the question over for a moment.
"Words are only for surface," she murmurs. "I don't need language to know you, Raf. I don't need speech, nor hearing."
"Noelle…" I start, ironically at a loss of words.
"This is the captain speaking…" the speakers suddenly echo with the announcement that we are about to land.
Noelle swallows hard, leaning back and taking one good look at me before returning to her seat.
She puts her seat belt on and doesn't speak one more word as we start our descent towards Mexico, proving to me that she can, in fact, live without words.
It's hereyesthat do all the talking.
And in them I see infernal anguish, with almost no trace of hope.
In no time, we touch down in Mexico.
Carlos had arranged for transportation to our hotel, and as we pass through customs, I'm surprised to see Noelle's flawless Spanish. Yet another thing that never made sense before, when she'd professed to not know the language. But as I remember our interactions online, and later at the hacienda, I realize how well she'd played me.
When she'd introduced herself as Lucero to me, she'd done so in Spanish, and I'd never once questioned that it might not be her native tongue. So well she spoke it, she completely fooled me—then, and now.
"You're quite the proficient Spanish speaker," I mention as we get into the car, unable to help myself.
She's sitting daintily at the far end of the seat, her hands on her thighs as she looks ahead. Slowly, she turns towards me, her face expressionless.
"Control."
One word, yet it explains everything.
Noelle isallabout control, and someone like that would have never gone to a foreign country if she didn't master the language first. In fact, I can bet she started learning it the moment she found out where her future husband would be from.
This should be just one more piece of information to show me how scheming and manipulative she is. But it does the reverse.
Instead of becoming more disgusted with her, I…admire her.
Her choices had been taken away from her all her life, yet in spite of that. she'd still prevailed in regaining that control, even if that meant violently snatching it away from her oppressors.
What's not to admire about that?
And that is why I feel like such a goddamn hypocrite. If I'd been only an outsider, I would have praised her for her actions. But I am not. I am right in the middle of this goddamn disaster, and her actions have affected me as well.
Because of that, I find myself at a crossroads. And I know the only way to choose the right path is by having all the facts and knowing everything that occurred in the past.
We arrive at the hotel and we check in.
The suite Carlos had gotten for us has two bedrooms, and Noelle gets the hint that it was on purpose. She puts her stuff in the spare bedroom, after which she continues to hover silently around me.
