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Lydia:Where the hell are you, Vi?!
Lydia:Vicente had an accident on his bike last night. I went to visit him in the hospital but you weren’t there which is really fucking strange to me. Please answer me!
Lydia:WTF VI!? Vicente told me you left, that you got into a fight with your dad and split. I know you like your space and to be alone, but how could you not be there for your brother?! I’m so fucking confused and angry with you. He never would have done that to you.
The rest of her texts are similar, varying from anger to pleading until she eventually gave up on getting a response from me. I want to call her and explain the whole situation, but I can’t do that. It’s too dangerous for her to know anything about this world and I don’t want it to touch her just because I wanted to talk to her. My brother has already been used as a tool against me; if anyone like Marío found out about Lydia, I know she’d be used in the same way.
I sigh, annoyed and frustrated with everything, but vowing to somehow get in contact with her when it’s safe to do so. When will that be? I have no fucking clue, but something has to give, right?
After a few moments of doom scrolling through Instagram and TikTok, I decide to check on the soup and go back out onto the porch. Hopefully Romero will be back and can help quiet my troubled mind.
Downstairs, Vicente and Katalina relax on the sofa like a cute ass couple, watching the MMA movieWarriorwith Tom Hardy, so I decide not to disturb them and quietly go into the kitchen. I put the chopped meat in the pot and replace the lid to let it boil for another hour.
I’ve always enjoyed cooking, not enough that I’d do it as a career, but in my Latin culture, food is as important as anything else. We take it very seriously and put a hell of a lot of love into each dish. It also brings the family together, reuniting us when our busy lives keep us apart. Growing up, me and my brother made a vow that we’d never live far from one another. That we’d have our dinners together at least once a week, no matter how busy our lives got.
I look over at him as I walk toward the front door, smiling when he turns to me as though he felt me. He gives me a wink before pulling Katalina closer to his side and returns his attention to the TV. I’m so thankful Romero kept his promise and got my brother back for me. Hell, I’m thankful Alvaro agreed to it without a fuss.
Once I’m on the swing again, I take a deep breath and click on Alvaro’s text.
Alvaro:I hope Romero keeps his word and gives you your phone. If he does, please call me so I can hear your voice. I miss you,Bruja.
I take a deep breath and message him back.
Me:Are you busy now?
The second I see the text has been read, my phone begins to ring in my hand.
“Alvaro.” My voice comes out shaky with my nerves, but when he takes a deep, audible breath, I know it sounded much different to him.
“Fuck,Bruja. I’ve missed you.”
After a few quiet minutes with both of us listening to one another breathe, I decide to tell him the truth.
“I’ve missed you, too. But Alvaro, things have happened since I thought you were getting married—”
“I know but I don’t care,” he says softly, interrupting me. “All I can think of is—no, all Ifear—is that I’ve lost you for good. When I realized what Marío had done, I left the house. I can’t speak about it on the phone, but I want to see you and tell you everything. Please,Bruja, allow me a day.Me muero por verte.”
I chew on my lip, tears in my eyes at his desperate voice as he says he’s dying to see me.
“Okay,” I tell him, “but how can we do this without causing trouble?”
“Let me handle it, baby. I’ll call you with a time for today.”
“Alvaro?” I ask him before he can end the call, my mind on my dream. “What if I can’t choose?”
After a few beats of silence, I begin to chew my lip with worry.
“I want all of you,Bruja, but I’ll take a part of you if it’s all I can get. Just don’t choose himoverme. I don’t know if I could handle losing you forever.” He’s quiet for a moment and somehow, I can hear the sadness in the silence. “I’ve lost enough in my life. I can’t lose you too,Bruja.”
When I hear the sounds of men in the background, Alvaro promises he’ll talk to me soon and we hang up. I spend the next couple of hours cooking and doing my best to ignore the painful knot growing in my stomach.
What will Romero say?
Will he be angry with me?
My more stubborn side says he doesn’t own me and I can do whatever the hell I want, but my kinder side—that soft little bitch—says I don’t want to hurt him.
“Dios mío,Vi, take a shot and chill,” my brother says as he pushes my fingers away from my mouth. “You’re making me anxious with all the leg twitching and nail biting. What’s up with you?”
