The unexpected release of tension makes me feel even more giddy, but my thoughts are still jumbled, clashing together in a dissonance of turmoil.
“Thank you so much. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. This is far from over. There’s still a lot to be done. I will need his help and yours.”
“I’ll do anything, Alejandro. Anything.” My voice comes out a weak and tremulous whisper, but the determination I feel is prevalent in my words.
“Good, we’ll talk properly in the morning. Once we’ve retrieved your father, we’ll know what to do.” He sounds confident he’ll be able to get my father out. “When it’s over, I’ll make arrangements for you to be reunited with him, safely.”
Reunited.
So, I’ll leave Brazil, leave him and Mia, and that will be it. It will be like nothing ever happened and I never met him.
How can I live the rest of my life trying to forget the man and the little girl who captured my heart?
But what can I do? This is what he wants, and maybe… it’s for the best.
“Thank you,” I rasp, trying to hold back tears.
He stares at me, and I wait for what’s to come next. I’ve gotten to know him so well I can read his mannerisms.
Now I know he wants to rip into me and ask me why I did what I did. The tick in his jaw is a tell giving away his internal rage and fury, but for whatever reason, he’s holding back.
“What happened to you? What got you hooked on drugs?” he asks.
The question is something else I don’t expect. The last time I spoke about my reasons for turning to the dark side was in front of a therapist.
“It was my brother. His death took a toll on me. I blamed myself for not being there for him. We argued before he took his life, and I told him I hated him. I didn’t know what was going on with him, but I should never have said what I said. In my mind, it pushed him. It was my penance to find him dead. Now he’ll never know how much I loved him. It broke me.”
His hard gaze softens somewhat.
“You must know it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but I hurt him. It seems that’s what I’m good at. Hurting people. People I love. People like you.”
He grits his teeth. “Lucia, it’s best we don’t talk about us, if there ever was an us.”
“You know there was, that it was real. You know it was real, Alejandro.”
“I know no such thing.”
“Yes, you do. You have to.” My insistence only makes him look angrier, but I decide to keep going because I can’t have him believe I faked what I felt for him. “I know you could feel it was real for me, and it still is. I’m so sorry I lied. There were so many times I wanted to tell you what was happening.”
“When?” The hardness snaps back into his eyes, and he steps closer. “At which time, Lucia?”
He comes closer and closer, and I back into the wall, placing myself at a direct disadvantage.
He slams both hands into the wall above my head on either side of me, barricading me in.
“I really wanted to tell you.”
“My fucking question is still, when. So, answer the question. When did you think you could tell me? There were so many chances. It could have been when my little girl got attached to you. Or after we started fucking every chance we got. Or after I confided in you with things I never talk about. Or maybe when you realized you had me so hooked around your finger I would have done anything for you.”
“I was scared,” I stutter.
My heart nearly jumps out of my chest, and every nerve in my body buzzes with trepidation when he catches my throat and gets right up in my face.
This is it. This is how he’s going to deal with me, but his actions and expression are so dark and cruel I can’t preempt what he’s going to do.