Page 71 of The Senator


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Mark is out there, talking. My heart stops. Because I can hear the second voice. It’s a woman.

I slowly creep forward and look through the cracked door. I don’t make a sound, I don’t think I am even breathing. Because I see them. Hugging. Mark is hugging…a blonde woman. I’ve seen her before?

College. His college girlfriend. She’s in Texas? She’s at this restaurant? I am about to bust through the door and ask him a million and one questions. Are they together? Has he been sleeping with her too? Was he just waiting to go back to her after our arrangement? But I stop because I watch his hand move up to cradle her head and then as she pulls away he kisses her forehead.

He kissed her head.

He kissed her head.

He wasn’t doing his best.

He wasn’t giving me all he could.

He can hug.

He can hold someone like they mean something to him.

He can be tender.

He can kiss.

He just won’t with me.

I turn and leave.

I don’t care about the answers to all my questions anymore. Because I have one answer that I’m sure of; I deserve better. I deserve more.

He could’ve been honest. He could’ve saved me all the care and time and effort I put into this. Into us. Into him. He could have kept me from wanting him, falling for him.

I head back toward my family instead of to the car. Mark’s car. I’ll have Raul drive me home. Or I’ll go home with Mia to cry my eyes out and agree with every man-hating comment she’s ever made.

I’m not going to do what he asked. Ever again.

I deserve forehead kisses. I deserve to be held. I have so much love to give, it’s filling me up and spilling over. It’s burning, loyal, deep and rich. Love for a partner, a husband, a family. I deserve love in return. Fierce, bleeding, pure love. For me, as I am, the queen that I am. Too soft, too sweet, too idealistic, yes, maybe, but a queen, someone’s queen, someday, all the same.

I raise my chin and resist the urge to look back. I look for Mia, for anyone waiting in the opposite direction of the man who doesn’t get any more of me. Not even a last look. As my foot crosses the threshold to the back room, a wave of heat hits me from the side.

My vision goes white.

I fall down, I think.

I can’t feel.

I can’t hear.

I taste blood and smoke.

Everything hurts.

Everything goes black.

•••••

Ringing in my ears.

Moaning, crying.

Papá and Tío talking? Guards running.

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