I am too shocked to speak. I remember my thought from earlier, and it brings a laugh to my lips.
“What’s funny?”
Covering my face with one hand, I rub my fingers over my brow before I meet his gaze. “Earlier, I thought to myself that you were the only one of the three that I haven’t kissed yet. Turns out, you were thefirstone I kissed.”
He chuckles lightly. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” His tone turns more sultry. “Why were you thinking about that earlier?”
“Because I wanted to kiss you,” I admit boldly. “That is, before you told me I have to choose your family over mine.” The cold wash of bitterness settles over me again, snuffing out the passion from a moment before.
“I’m really sorry, Sloane,” Vincente says, and the regret is obvious in his tone. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, and I didn’t know how to make it clearer to you. In this instance, you really didn’t have a choice. I hope, from now on, that it’s not this difficult again.”
“Can you really promise that, though?” I ask. “It seems like a lot of vague explanations, and the only promises that hold weight are the oaths of loyalty to your father.”
Vincente sighs. “I know I’m not helping by apologizing, but that’s all I can offer you right now. You’ll see that things will be different, and until you see it I suppose you’ll have to take me at my word.”
I settle back into my seat and pull my phone from my bra to go over the messages from my mom.
She is NOT happy. Her first response to my text message was to tell me she didn’t buy it and I needed to be home within the hour. She sent several more similar messages, and then she started calling again. I click on each voicemail and let my phone transcribe what it says instead of listening to her furious voice. The messages go from demanding, to threatening, to outright name-calling.
“She seems pretty pissed,” Vincente comments softly, and I realize he’s been reading my screen along with me.
I don’t have the energy to be mad at the invasion of my privacy. Besides, he should know what I’m going to be walking into tonight. I want him to feel a little bad.
“Yup.”
“Will she take a while to get over it?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ve never deliberately disobeyed her, even though I’m twenty-two and still live at home with my parents. Truthfully, I have always been terrified of their disapproval.”
Vincente is quiet for a long time. “I understand how you feel,” he replies at last.
“You do?” I glance at him curiously.
“Absolutely. You were raised by strict, law-enforcing parents. I was raised by strict… we’ll say law-bending parents. Their careers may be different, but they still expect the same obedience from their children. We may have had more fancy things than you growing up, but that doesn’t mean much. They always expected me to take care of my little brothers, even though I was barely two years older than them. I had to be a mini adult, because my mother couldn’t be bothered to care for us when Papa was away, and housekeepers only do so much. The expectation to learn the business, and make sure my brothers fell in line, was always on my shoulders.”
“I had no idea,” I breathe, finally making the connection between his life and mine. In a lot of ways, we are quite similar.
“My parents held me responsible for Elian’s behavior. I couldn’t keep him in hand, and finally I got into a huge fight with my father about it. When I went to college, I dared them to do a better job reforming him than I had. They didn’t speak to me for weeks, and I almost got disowned. I stayed in the dorms and didn’t go home.
“Fortunately, he was as much of a little punk with them as he was for me, and after a couple months they called and… well, I won’t say they apologized, but we reconciled. Ever since then, they’ve treated me with more respect, but I’m careful to toe the line.”
“I’ve never had a huge blowout with my folks, but there’s been plenty of times when I wanted to walk out and slam the door behind me for good. I just always knew, deep down, that they are good people who mean well and are doing the best they can.
“But this kind of stuff… it’s hard. I’m anadult. I work full time, I still babysit three nights a week, and even on my nights off at any point she can call me up and demand I get home immediately, under the threat of being kicked out. When am I supposed to have a life of my own?” At first scared, then deflated in the wake of my mother’s furious messages, I’m finding myself filling with indignation.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Vincente answers gently. “Maybe it’s time for you to move out.”
I snort. “Sure, coming from the guy who still lives at home with mommy and daddy and is two years older than me.”
“Who said I still live at home?”
“You don’t? I’m sorry, I just assumed.”
“Yes, I get that. No, I stayed in the dorms the first two years at U of M, and then I got an apartment. My parents and I negotiated a salary for the work I did for their company part time, and when I graduated and became full time, that increased. I have a condo just up the road from them.”
“You’re not wrong, I need to get out on my own and out of my childhood bedroom. But I still don’t even get my first paycheck for another week. I don’t really have anywhere to do. I suppose I could crash at one of my friends’ houses.”
“Sloane, you’re always welcome to stay with me, and I’m certain that offer extends to my brothers if you’d prefer Sandro or Elian. My parents would be happy to give you their guest room. You have options.”