Say When
Page 15
Shit!
I listen to them in order from newest to oldest. The first one is from Andrés, left an hour ago.
Hey, I called in sick for you. I figured you could use the day off. I’ll stop by to check on you after work. His tone is even. Almost. I can hear the cracks in his voice, and it breaks my heart.
Still, I breathe easier knowing he called in for me. I should have known Andrés would do something so thoughtful. The boy is amazing, simply amazing, and he deserves far better than damaged goods.
The next call came in just moments before Andrés’s message. I don’t recognize the number, so I figure it must be Tio or Ricky calling to find out where I am. Instead, I’m greeted by Jackson’s nasally whine. So I’m a fucking father now? Is this why you dumped me? Did you know about this? Why didn’t you tell me? I feel like a freaking bomb has been dropped on me, Teenie!
Huh. Leave it to Jackson to find a way to make this all my fault. Stupid little prick. I’m so glad I dumped him. Funny, how I’m not really bothered by his infidelity. Karri’s betrayal stings far more.
The third message was left last night by my mother. I don’t know why I torture myself by listening to it. I guess maybe I’m hoping for an apology. Stupid me.
It’s not fair of you to judge me.You don’t know how much I suffered that night. How I’ve suffered every night since, the shame of knowing what kind of a man I married. Her ordinarily haughty voice is slurred, and I realize she must have been drinking.
What about my shame? My suffering? I want so badly to reach through that phone and slap some sense into my mother, but I realize it would do no good. She’s rotten to the core, and nothing I ever say or do will change her.
A knock on the door startles me. “Christina, it’s Grace. Let me in.”
Even though I feel like I’ve been run over by a steam roller, I force myself to get out of bed and open the door. Grace is dressed for work in a crisp waitress uniform with her hair pulled into a tight bun. She’s holding a bag of tacos and a large coffee. I recognize the name of the restaurant on the bag. It’s where Andrés and I eat breakfast every morning.
“Lover boy brought this by a few hours ago, and I’m tired of smelling it.” She pushes past me and dumps the bag on the counter. “I heated the coffee up in the microwave,” she says, handing me the cup. Her brow furrows as she looks me over from head to toe. “Christina, I have to leave for work soon. Are you going to tell me what happened?”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” I may never be ready to talk about it, I think, but her scowl is so deep, I don’t say anything more.
I take a sip of coffee, relishing the feel of the warm liquid going down my throat. It’s just what I need to wash away the acidic taste of vomit from last night. I eye the tacos on the counter. Their heavenly smell accosts my senses, and my stomach rumbles. I know I need to eat something, so I set down the coffee and open the bag. Two foil-wrapped tacos and pico de gallo are inside, but that’s not what catches my eye. I pull out a folded note of paper.
Grace is still eyeing me, so I slip the note into my pocket and open the tacos. Against my better judgment, I devour the food within minutes. I’m so hungry, I hardly notice the flavors of the steaming chorizo or warm, buttery tortillas. I belch into my fist when I’m finished and reach for my coffee. I really hope this food stays down. I need my strength to unpack my things. Plus, I can’t sleep on Grace’s futon forever. I’m going to need to go buy a bed.
Grace peers down at me as she squeezes my shoulder. “He left a painting and some paints in my apartment. I can get them to you later. I’m working a long shift today. Are you going to be okay alone?”
I nod, taking another swallow of coffee. I’m lucky to have Grace as a friend. She would never betray me and sleep with my fiancé. Then again, she doesn’t like to sleep with men. I sigh and silently berate myself. I have such a distrusting, skewed view of the world, thanks to my parents and Karri.
Grace hugs me and then she’s out the door. I finger the note in my pocket and sit on the futon. I’m reading the words Andrés has scrawled on the paper, but I’m not processing them, because it’s all too much to bear.
I care for you too much to come between you and your mother. I won’t bother you anymore.
* * *
Waiting all day for Andrés to get off work is sheer agony. I alternate between crying and sleeping. By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’ve got a splitting headache. I take some aspirin and drink several glasses of water, but it does little to alleviate this hung-over feeling. I don’t remember much about the drive over to his place, other than going through the motions, stopping at red lights, going at green lights.
My palms are sweaty and my legs are shaking by the time I climb out of my vehicle. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his truck is parked in his covered spot.
As I’m walking to his apartment, my teeth start to chatter. I don’t even know what to say or how to say it, but I know now what I need to do. I need to come out and tell Andrés exactly what happened between me and my mother, which means I’ll also have to tell him what happened with my father. Confessing my darkest secrets won’t be easy, but I’ll do anything at this point if I can get him back. Of course, there’s that nagging voice in the back of my head that tells me I’ll never get him back once he learns of my sordid past. I’m terrified of what he’ll think of me, but I have no other choice.
Besides, he confessed to me how he felt responsible for his best friend’s death. I knew it wasn’t his fault. Maybe Andrés will show me the same understanding.
Hopefully.
My hand shakes as I knock on his door. It doesn’t take Andrés long to answer, and when he swings open the door and leans against the frame, I think my heart will melt.
Andrés looks terrible. His face is unshaven, his hair’s a mess, and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday.
“Hey,” I say. “Didn’t you go into work?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I called in sick, too.”
My heart lurches. Had he stayed home because of me?
I feel like I’ve swallowed a wad of cotton, and I wet my lips as I struggle to speak. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” he says as he steps back and lets me inside. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
He walks to his fridge and leans inside. “Water, tea, or something stronger?” he asks.
I don’t hesitate to decide. “Something stronger,” I say almost too forcefully.
A few minutes later we’re curled up on his couch, me on one end, and him on the other. I’ve downed the first beer and I’m starting my second. Andrés eyes me as he sips his drink. I wonder what he thinks of me right now, but I’m afraid to ask.
The buzz isn’t working fast enough, but I decide I can’t put this off a minute longer, so I clear my throat and summon the courage to speak. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. You deserve to know what’s going on.” I take another swallow of beer, and then another. Damn, this is hard.
As if Andrés senses my discomfort, he scoots up beside me. He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers through mine. I smile as I look down at our joined hands. His skin is warm, and I realize how nice it feels to sit here like this. If only we could be like this always, but I know our lives are about to change in a big way. I’m about to introduce him to my dark, sordid past.
Tears threaten at the backs of my eyes, and my throat tightens, making it difficult to speak, but when he squeezes my hand, and offers me a soft, reassuring smile, I somehow find strength through him.
“You are not what came between me and my mom.”
He arches a brow but says nothing, and I can see he’s waiting for me to finish.
I take a deep, steadying breath. “I just found out my mom knew my dad raped me, and she did nothing about it.”
Andrés’s grip tightens and his tanned skin turns a bright crimson. He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes g
rowing ever darker, his lips thinning, but he still doesn’t speak a word.
I swallow hard and my stomach churns. It feels like my body’s unraveling from the inside out. If he doesn’t speak soon, I may fall apart.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I rasp.
Twin storms brew beneath his darkening gaze. “Your dad is lucky he’s already dead.”
I can’t help myself. I burst into tears, and before I know it, he’s pulling me onto his lap and wrapping me in his strong embrace.
“I’m sorry, Mija,” he whispers. “I knew you had problems with your parents, but I didn’t know they were this bad.”
For some reason, I sob harder. Andrés continues to hold me and stroke my hair, murmuring words in Spanish against my ear. I’m pretty sure I’ve cried out every last drop of moisture by the time I pull back.
He wipes my eyes, and for the first time, I notice his eyes are moist, too. “And here I thought I was the only one with a messed up past.” He laughs, despite the pain I see reflecting in his features.
I don’t know why, but I laugh, too. “We’re both pretty messed up.” But my laughter dies in my throat as I notice his haunted expression. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Okay?” I say to Andrés.
He flashes a smile that doesn’t quite mask the sadness in his eyes. “All right, but if you need to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
Relief washes over me. Dare I hope Andrés won’t let my past come between us?
“Thanks.” I avert my gaze as shame surges through me. “But I-I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”
Andrés cups my chin in his hand and forces me to look into his eyes. “Christina, I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. Last night was the most miserable night of my life. You’re my girl, and I’ll always want you.” His deep voice is firm, unwavering. “Always.”
Despite the fact that I’m limp with exhaustion and I feel like a discarded rag doll, I am overcome with joy. Warmth floods my heart and surges through my chest. I wrap my arms around Andrés and meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. I tell myself despite what my parents have done to me, and despite the nightmares that plague Andrés, we deserve to be happy, and I can think of no better happiness than a lifetime together.
Coming Soon…
Say Yes
A Something More Novel
by Tara West
TARA WEST
A former Texas high school teacher, I enjoyed coaching the writing team and even the hectic deadlines that came with running the school publications. After taking a break to raise my baby girl, I now work from home as a novelist and a part-time graphic designer. In my spare time, I love to read, exercise and spend time with my family and friends.
I would love to hear from my readers!
Blog: http://www.tarawestauthor.wordpress.com
Email: tara@tarawest.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tarawestauthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/tarawestauthor
Website: http://www.tarawest.com
BOOKS BY TARA WEST
From the Whispers Series
Sophie’s Secret
Don’t Tell Mother
Krysta’s Curse
Visions of the Witch
Sophie’s Secret Crush
From Keepers of the Stones
Witch Flame, Prelude
Curse of the Ice Dragon, Book One
Spirit of the Sea Witch, Book Two (releasing 2014)
ALSO CHECK OUT THESE
EXTRAORDINARY AUTHORS & BOOKS:
Alivia Anders ~ Illumine
Cambria Hebert ~ Recalled
Angela Orlowski Peart ~ Forged by Greed
Julia Crane ~ Freak of Nature
J.A. Huss ~ Tragic
Cameo Renae ~ Hidden Wings
Tabatha Vargo ~ Playing Patience
Alexia Purdy ~ Breathe Me
Beth Balmanno ~ Set in Stone
Lizzy Ford ~ Zoey Rogue
Ella James ~ Selling Scarlett
Tara West ~ Visions of the Witch
Heidi McLaughlin ~ Forever Your Girl
Melissa Andrea ~ Flutter
Komal Kant ~ Falling for Hadie
Melissa Pearl ~ Golden Blood
L.P. Dover ~ Love’s Second Chance
Sarah M. Ross ~ Inhale, Exhale
Brina Courtney ~ Reveal
Amber Garza ~ Falling to Pieces
Anna Cruise ~ Maverick
Table of Contents
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
Additional Novels by Tara West
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About Tara West
Additional Indie Novels by other Authors