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“Montero saved her.”
“Santos.”
“Mmm.” He sighs as he draws his fingertips across the bare skin of my back.
“The stuff in the basement I saw the other day…” I trail off, unsure how to ask it. “They’re drugs. You don’t traffic people, but you do traffic drugs.”
His fingers still. “It’s what affords me the power to do what needs to be done.”
I let it go, in part because I don’t believe he’ll elaborate much. But also because I understand what he’s saying. In order to retain his control over much of the border, this is what he has to do. And it’s that control and power that saved Sarah’s life.
As I contemplate the terror Sarah must have felt at the thought of losing her child, something occurs to me. “Santos, I keep up with my IUD, right?”
“Your what?”
“Birth control.”Jesucristo, we’ve been humping like bunnies. I’ve taken contraceptives for granted, assuming I was as diligent about my gynecology appointments as I was in the past. Then again, I’ve been wrong about what the other Sonia would or would not do before. What if she, I mean I, what ifIdidn’t keep up? “Please tell me you haven’t been coming inside me without some protection.”
The only thing that gives away the fact that the question upsets him is the clenching of his jaw. “Would it be so bad if we had a child? I want to be a father.”
“I’m not ready.”
Staring at the sky, he swallows hard and says, “You were always diligent about your appointments. Now I know why.”
“I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” I whisper. “But it’s important.”
He gives me a tight smile. “If it will make you feel better, we can call the doctor.”
“Thank you.” I lift myself onto his chest and draw lazy circles over his skin. “Tell me about the day you asked me to marry you.”
His tension eases. Grinning, he lifts his head slightly, arching a thick brow. “Again? I’ve already told you that story.”
“I know. But I like it. It’s romantic.”
“Well,” he begins, pushing one hand beneath his head to prop it up higher. “We’d just returned from a nighttime ride on horseback. I surprised you with a picnic for dinner under the stars. It really was my intention to feed you, but you wanted my body and I couldn’t deny you.”
I envision it all in my mind as he recounts the story I’ve heard so many times, it’s almost starting to seem like an actual memory. But I’m all too aware that as much as I wish it, it’s not. It’s just a story.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, pausing.
“I’ll never remember it,” I say sadly.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. It’s like the memory has been completely obliterated.”
“The doc told you it could come back any day,” he says, reminding me of what the doctor said at my recheck yesterday. “Besides, you remember the best parts.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“How we met. Our first kiss on your eighteenth birthday.” He waggles his brows meaningfully. “You remember that, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes at him. “It wasn’t a kiss. Besides, that’s not what I’m talking about. Can you be serious about anything?”
His grin softens as he studies my features. “I take everything about you seriously.”
“Good. Because this is important to me. I don’t remember what you looked like when you asked me to marry you or what I felt. I don’t remember our wedding. It’s all nonexistent.” I push up on my elbow so that I can see him better. “You don’t know what it’s like to have such a big gap in your memory. I’ll forever depend on pictures and stories, but they aren’t really mine. I want something that’s mine too.”
“We have the rest of our lives to make memories that will be yours too.”
