Breaking Down (The Breaking Series Book 4)

by Juliana Haygert

  I set my laptop aside and looked up at him. “What’s up?”

  He wiped his hands on his jeans. “All right, so, I knew this day was coming, I just …” He shut his mouth.

  I straightened in my chair. “What is it?”

  “The money from our deal, most of it is to pay bills. And most of the bills are from the hospital.” He sighed and my heart lurched. Was he sick? “But it’s not for me. It’s for my father. He has cancer. Again. For the third time. And it’s not getting better.”

  My chest deflated. “That’s … terrible.”

  He sat down on the coffee table. “He has been spending more and more time at the hospital now, but every now and then, he feels better and I like to bring him home. He’s doing okay right now, and I wanted to go pick him up and bring him home this afternoon.”

  Oh, so he wasn’t telling me this because he wanted to share something with me. He was letting me know his father would be coming home.

  “Of course, you should bring him home when he’s up to it.” I stood. “I’ll … pack a bag and …” And do what? I couldn’t go to my brother’s apartment or Bia’s. They would all talk about it and think Tyler and I were having problems. Then, I should probably hide in a hotel. But for how long? Did it matter? It was for Tyler’s father. If my father had cancer and wanted to spend some time at his place, then I would shoo out anyone in my way and—

  Tyler caught my arm as I turned toward my room. I froze and he gently pulled me back. “Why would you pack a bag? You think I want you to leave?”

  I took a step back. “Sim …”

  “I wasn’t telling you this so you would leave. I was telling you all this so you would know what to expect when I bring him home this afternoon.”

  Oh. “And what did you tell him about me?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I thought about keeping up with the lie. We tell him you’re my girlfriend.” He grimaced.

  Sure, downgrade me some more. From wife, to fiancée, to girlfriend. Soon, I would be roommate, then who knew. Maid? Secretary? Neighbor? An acquaintance?

  Why did I care about this? It had been my idea. Now, I had to accept all the lies that came with it.

  “Are you sure about that? I can just leave.”

  “I hope … I hope my father will live for many more months. Years even. Hopefully, he’ll feel well enough to come stay with me often, and I can’t ask you to move out every time that happens.” He paused. “Would you be okay with that?”

  I offered him a reassuring smile. “Sure.”

  “Okay.” He stepped back. “Then, I’m gonna take a shower and go to the hospital. The doctor was going to check up on him before he was allowed to leave, and I want to be there for that. Then, I’ll bring him in.”

  “Wait, what about dinner? What does he like?”

  “Don’t worry about that. We can order something.”

  “Tyler, just tell me what he likes.”

  One corner of his lips tugged. “He loves breads and steak and potatoes and cheese. Just don’t make anything too greasy or any heavy sauces or too much spice and it should be fine.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He retreated to his bedroom but paused at the door. “Thanks.”

  “For?”

  He shrugged. “For not looking at me with pity in your eyes. For not asking the five hundred questions everyone does when they find out someone has cancer. For not judging me for having so many bills. And … for wanting to cook for my old man.”

  I smiled at him. “Anytime.”

  Me: I know you’re still pissed at me, but I need your help. Please, call me.

  I stared at my phone over an hour later, and Bia still hadn’t replied. Or called me.

  Merda.

  I could make pão de queijo without her, but it was her thing. I wanted her to come over and help me with it. Besides, it would be a good excuse to have her alone with me and force her to face me and get over everything.

  She couldn’t stay mad at me forever, could she?

  Another half an hour passed and I gave up. If I waited, there would be no pão de queijo and no dinner at this house.

  I picked up the polvilho from the pantry and reached for the scissors in the knife set—then my phone rang. Relief coursed through me when I saw Bia’s name blinking on the screen.

  “Oi, guria, I thought you would keep ignoring me.”

  “I almost did.” She paused. “But you said you needed my help. It better be for a good cause or I’m hanging up.”

  Ouch. “Hm, I’m meeting Tyler’s father this evening, and I learned he likes bread and cheese, so I thought why not make some pão de queijo for appetizers. However, that’s your specialty, not mine.”

  “Everyone can make pão de queijo. You just need to follow the recipe.”

  “Bia …” I sighed. “Can we please just put that aside for the next couple of hours while you come over and help me with the pão de queijo? Besides, I still have to cook the rest of the dinner and I haven’t even started it yet. I could use the help.”

  Though she remained silent for a long moment, I swore I could hear the grinding of her teeth on the other side of the phone. “Fine! But only if you have whiskey. I might need a dose of Jack and Coke to do this.”

  “First, ouch. I knew you were upset with me, but I didn’t think you needed to drink to face me again. Second, yes, I do have whiskey. Come over and I’ll have your Jack and Coke ready for you.”

  “Just text me the address.”

  I did and she replied saying she would be here in about thirty, forty minutes. Enough time for me to run to the flower shop two blocks from the apartment and buy some cute, small bouquets and some colorful candles and holders. I had finished spreading the bouquets and candles around the living room when Bia arrived.

  I opened the door for her, unsure of what to do. Usually, we would hug, but with her being so mad at me, I thought it would be best if I stepped aside and gave her some space.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Bia stepped into the apartment and looked around. “Cute little apartment.”

  I shrugged. “It’s cute, like you said.”

  I hadn’t chosen a big apartment as I first wanted because I knew Tyler couldn’t afford one on his own, and if someone in my family learned about his financial problems, they would think I was paying for everything and throw another fit.

  She went straight to the open kitchen and found her glass of Jack and Coke on the counter. She took a long swallow and set it down again. “Let’s get to work.”

  In an awkward silence, Bia made the pão de queijo while I worked on a bacon wrapped steak and potatoes au gratin—with lots of my own white sauce. It wasn’t too heavy, but I kept a mental note to advise Tyler’s father to eat just a little. And then was dessert—a Brazilian specialty. I hoped they'd like it.

  “That smells good,” she finally said, after almost thirty minutes navigating by my side in the kitchen. And after two glasses of Jack and Coke.

  “Thanks. I hope he likes it.”

  “So, are you nervous?”

  I spread the cooked potatoes into a glass pan. “A little, I guess.” I poured the sauce over the potatoes. I glanced at her. “He has cancer.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s …”

  I added grated cheese on top and put it in the oven beside the steak. “Tyler seems worried about it, though he doesn’t talk about it much.” Not really a lie since Tyler never spoke about it to me before. “To be honest, I don’t know the extent, only that it’s the third time the cancer has come back and it’s not looking good.”

  A knot adorned her forehead. “I can’t imagine having to see your parent fade away from cancer.” She paused, then continued. “I don’t think Tyler knows I know this, but Garrett told me. Tyler’s mother walked out on them a long, long time ago. He doesn’t remember her much, but he does know she remarried and has other kids.”

  My heart sank as I poured myself a glass of Jack and Coke. Now that
the food was practically done, I could use some alcohol in my veins to relax. “Wow, having his mother abandon him and now seeing his father getting sicker and sicker?” I shook my head. “It must hurt.”

  “Bom, for what is worth, now he has you.” She glanced at me. “I mean … I know it’s fake but I know you. You care about others and now you care about his problems. I think.”

  “I do,” I said, realizing it was true. And I didn’t like the feelings it woke in me.

  I averted my eyes before she saw a trace of these unwelcomed feelings in me. To busy myself while I waited for the food, I checked on the drinks in the fridge. We didn’t have many options, but I hoped Tyler had bought whatever his father liked.

  She put the pão de queijo in the oven, then turned to me. “Aren’t you missing Brazil? Even a little bit?”

  I glanced up at her. “A little. My parents, of course, even though they want to kill me.”

  “Imagine if they knew the truth.”

  I cringed. “Don’t joke about that.” I paused, thinking. “I miss Pri too. And the food.”

  “No one or nothing else?”

  “Not me, but apparently Mateus has been missing me.”

  She cocked one of her brows. “Really?”

  I told her about his texts and then Pri’s texts, telling me he was asking about me, determined to win me back. I had no idea how because one, I didn’t love him anymore. I just liked him as an acquaintance. And two, he was thousands of miles away. How would he win me back by not being here? He was nuts.

  “Does Tyler know about him?”

  I put the potatoes beside the pão de queijo in the oven, then faced my cousin. “About Mateus? Why would he?”

  She shrugged. “Não sei. Just wondering. I hope Mateus doesn’t show up here …”

  I knocked on the wood cabinet. “Don’t joke about that either.” I opened a cabinet door and picked up some plates. “Help me set up the table, please.”

  “Okay, then let’s talk about something else.” Bia picked up the forks and knives. “So, how is the search for a polo team going?”

  Letting out a long breath, I grabbed glasses and took them to the table. “Not good. No club wants to sponsor a female team.”

  “Sexist pigs,” she muttered.

  I chuckled. “I don’t think that’s the main reason, but I appreciate the support.”

  Bia looked around the room. Her eyes locked on one of the small bouquet of flowers I had bought earlier. She grabbed it and placed it in the middle of the breakfast table.

  “What do you think?”

  I stepped back and looked at our handiwork. “It looks good. Cozy, quaint.”

  She sighed. “Bom, I think it’s time for me to go.”

  “Sim, claro. I have to take a quick shower and be ready for when they get back.” I walked to the door and paused, my hand on the knob. I stared at my cousin as she walked to me. “Obrigada for your help.”

  A small smile appeared on her lips. “De nada.”

  “Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

  “Não. I’m still mad at you.” Her smile widened. “But it means I might forgive you faster than I thought I would.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  She took my hand and squeezed it. “Good luck tonight. I hope you charm the old man even more than you charmed Ty.”

  I snorted. “I didn’t charm Tyler. You know we both are faking it.”

  “Claro. If you say so.”

  I put a hand on my waist. “What is that supposed to mean?” Chuckling, she opened the door and walked out. I stepped into the hallway. “Bia! Don’t leave like that. What did you mean?”

  But she didn’t answer me. I would have gone after her, but I was running out of time. I still had to get ready myself. Droga.

  26

  Tyler

  Dad was looking much better than I expected, but I still had to help him with a lot of things.

  “Wait up, Dad,” I said, exiting my truck. I slammed the door shut and raced to the other side. The stubborn man had the door open and was already halfway out. “Dad!” I grabbed his arm for support. “Let me help you.”

  He tsked. “I still can do things, you know.” He tried to sound angry, but it was just his way of joking and it only made me grin. “Or what’s next? Are you going to be like the nurses that hold my hand while I go pee?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Shit, can we change the subject?” He laughed, but it turned into a cough. “Okay, take it easy.”

  He waved me off and tried to push me away, but I wasn’t having it. I wouldn’t take him to the bathroom, unless absolutely necessary, but I wouldn’t let him walk across the parking lot with its rough concrete by himself. As far as I knew, his muscles and even his bones weren’t the same anymore—hadn’t been for a long time. He didn’t have any strength left. What if his legs seized in the middle of a step and he fell face-first on the sidewalk? With his immune system affected by the chemotherapy and radiotherapy, he bruised easily and healed at a snail’s pace. If it depended on me, he wouldn’t get hurt on my watch.

  Against his protest that he wasn’t that old or that invalid, I hooked my arm on his and helped him as we entered the building and waited for the elevators.

  “This place looks nice, but …” He looked around at the lobby. “I thought our financial situation wasn’t good. In fact, I thought it was terrible. How can you afford to pay rent at a place like this?”

  “Our financial situation is much better than you think it is, and let me assure you, I can afford rent at a place like this.” Especially because Gabi had paid the rent for a year in advance and didn’t let me pay one cent for it. A fact that I still hated and tried to rectify, but Gabi plain refused any kind of help in that department.

  At first, I felt guilty about that, but then I realized something. She never made me feel guilty. She never looked at me with pity, disgust, or mistrust. I felt guilty for liking that she was helping me.

  So, I let that go. Now that she knew the real reason I was buried in debt and could barely pay for decent groceries the last couple of months, it filled me with relief.

  I shook my head at my reflection in the elevator’s mirrored wall. What did I care about what she thought? She was my business partner. I shouldn’t give a damn about what she thought or didn’t think.

  That was the theory anyway.

  At the apartment’s door, I fished the keys from my pocket and paused. “Hm, there’s something I didn’t tell you.”

  My father turned to me. “What?”

  “I’ve … I’ve met someone. Her name is Gabriela, but she prefers Gabi. She’s in here, preparing dinner for us.”

  His eyes widened. “You have a girlfriend?”

  I tried not to wince. “Yes, I do. And … one of the reasons I moved to another apartment is because we’re living together now.”

  A big smile spread through his mouth, reaching his eyes. “That’s wonderful. Open this door. I want to meet her.”

  I took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.

  My breath caught.

  The place was clean and organized. A couple of scented candles were on the corner table and the kitchen’s high counter. There were small orange flower bouquets on the coffee table and the dinner table. The table was set with a red and orange tablecloth, elegant white plates, silver cutlery, and pretty goblets.

  Beside the table, Gabi stood with a big smile, holding a tray of pão de queijo—I knew these because I had seen them at her brother’s house before. Gabi looked beautiful in a dark blue dress with a wide, white belt, and white cowboy boots. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and, even though I liked her hair down, this way I could see her pretty face. And she was ridiculously pretty.

  “Wow,” my father whispered beside me. “Are you sure she’s your girlfriend? She’s too pretty for you.”

  “Dad,” I mock snarled.

  We stepped into the apartment and Gabi met us halfway.


  “Mr. Reid, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Please, call me Charlie.” He stared at her, visibly enchanted. “Oh my, oh my, you’re such a precious thing, my dear. Beautiful and from the looks of it, gifted.” He looked around. “This place looks and smells amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks gained a faint red tint, which made me smile.

  “Let’s sit down, Dad.” I gently pushed him to the couch. He resisted me at first, but then Gabi dropped the tray on the coffee table and took my father’s arm. He practically melted into her and let her guide him to the couch.

  She sat right beside him and pulled the tray to her lap. “I heard you like bread and cheese, so I made these. Brazilian cheese bread. I hope you like it.”

  With a wide smile, my father grabbed one of the cheese breads and took a big bite. “Hm,” he moaned. “These are amazing.” He finished eating the first and reached for a second one. Then, he turned to me, smiling wide, like I hadn’t seen in months. “Ty, I say she’s a keeper.”

  Without meaning to, I glanced to Gabi and she glanced to me. She had a small smile on her lips and the red tint spread over her cheeks again. I smiled at her, feeling too happy for words. “I think she is, Dad.”

  Dinner was fucking incredible. Dad would have eaten way more, but Gabi had warned us the white sauce on the potatoes could be heavy, so I had to take his plate away from him. Then, Gabi brought dessert to the table.

  “This is called brigadeirão.” She set a big, round plate over the table, with a chocolate pudding-looking dessert topped with granulated chocolate and sliced strawberry. “We usually make little balls of this and serve it at birthday parties. You know, bite size for kids. But someone had the great idea of make a big pudding out of it so we can have big slices instead.” She cut out fat slices of the brigadeirão, placed them on small plates, and handed them to us.

  My father took a big spoonful and moaned. “I always heard some women grab their men by the belly. Son, you better marry her.”