It's dark. I can't see anything, but I stare off into the emptiness and try to breathe, wondering how I'm going to stop him.
I could kill him.
I go inside and once again look for something, but just like before, there is nothing.
The tears of grief don't stop all night. There's no getting out of it. When Carlos comes, I know what he will make me do.
All night, I pace. When morning comes, I still haven't slept, but new red hibiscuses hang from the trees.
You're here. But I've already betrayed you and am going to have to do even more.
And I wait and wait, but Carlos never comes.
Esther brings breakfast to the room and startles me.
"What time is it?"
"Time for you to get ready."
"Where is Carlos?"
"He just came home and is downstairs on the phone. He went directly to his office and said no one is to bother him. Something major must be going on."
I glance out the glass at a bouquet of brilliant red hanging in the tree.
Esther claps. "Go on. Get ready."
"Oh. Sorry. What do I have to get ready for?"
"Your wedding dress. The seamstress will be here in a half hour."
27
Vanessa
Life starts to move quicker, as if to remind me there is no escaping my fate. The seamstresses, hair, and makeup artists, and even a fashion consultant are all brought to my prison cell.
They smile and clap excitedly, transforming me day after day into the perfect bride and future Mrs. Carlos Garcia.
I'm nothing but his dress-up doll.
Manicures, pedicures, and waxes abound. New hairstyles and different makeup looks are created almost daily. I'm photographed for every experiment so Carlos can choose what look he wants me to have when.
Carlos busts into one of the appointments and throws a magazine in the hairstylists face. "This is the newest trend. She needs this." He storms out of the room as quickly as he entered it.
I try not to cry as they chop off all my long locks above my ear.
Parties fill the schedule on top of Carlos's other events. There are two engagement parties, the rehearsal dinner, and a huge church ceremony.
Top fashion gurus in Belize bring racks of clothes to the house daily. Hour after hour, I try on different combinations of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories. There are clothes to wear on the honeymoon, and negligees for every night going forward.
The seamstresses work all hours, putting together not one, but two wedding dresses—one for the vows and a different dress for the wedding celebration.
Through it all, I put on my fake smile while dying inside.
The moments I have to myself, I go on the balcony and gaze at the petals tossed on the lawn or the bouquets hanging in the trees.
Hunter is out there, watching me, but I don't know why. It's clear what my fate is. I told him about my dream and what will happen, and anyone can see how my every move is guarded and followed by someone on Carlos's staff.
More times than not, Carlos has made me kiss him on the balcony or in the driveway.
Those moments pain me more, thinking about Hunter and what he must be feeling, than the act of kissing Carlos and him holding me in his arms.
Hunter has seen my infidelity. I've betrayed him.
But every day, I wake up to new red hibiscuses. Some days are harder than others for me to control my emotions, and it is those days the flowers will move, or more will be added.
I never see him, except in my mind.
His chiseled face, golden-brown eyes, and thick sandy blond hair are permanently inked on my brain. But I dream of his lips, and his arms, and the way he used to touch me.
More frequently, when Carlos comes and bellows out whatever he's upset with me about, I get a panic attack. In my head, I hear Hunter telling me to breathe. I miss him holding me and just inhaling air with me.
I'd give anything to kiss him one last time before my death. But that will never happen.
Thoughts of ending my life early torment me throughout the day. At least if I did it myself, it would be on my terms. But the only way to do that would be to jump. And I don't want Hunter to witness that.
There is no guarantee I'll die, either. I'll probably just end up paralyzed.
I think of the other women often. Where are the five of them? And then I think about Hunter and the other men who risked their lives to save us. They put everything they had on the line to get us to safety, but fate is cruel and had other plans.
The Global Leaders are too powerful. There is no way to stop them.
We should have known better and not ruined the lives of such honorable, loyal men, too.
Guilt, sadness, and anger always spin inside me. The closer I get to the wedding, the more panic attacks I have.
And every time Carlos comes near me, my insides shake so hard, I feel dizzy and nauseous.
Since the shooting of Jorge Cano and Eduardo Macias, Carlos has been working nonstop. It's still unknown who killed them. Or if Carlos or anyone else does know, they aren't telling me.
There's good and bad to Carlos's current work situation. He's not around a lot. But when he is, he's even angrier than usual.
We have another party to attend tonight. I've spent the last hour getting ready.
Carlos comes out of the closet and barks, "Are you ready?"
I jump. "Yes."
He puts his hand on my back. We're almost out the door when he stops in front of the mirror.
"What the..." He picks something off his suit.
"It's lint. There's another piece. Let me help—"
His palm slams against my face, and I step back into the wall. Blood drips on the floor and onto my new dress.
I sob and cower, and his hand moves back in the air to give me another blow.
"Stop that. Do you want bruises on your bride-to-be?"
Carlos freezes while scowling at me.
"Clean yourself up," Arja instructs me.
I don't move. It would require me to push past Carlos.
"Move," he screams in my face, and spit flies in my eyes.
I have a full-out panic attack.
"I'm done with this. I'll meet you in the car, Arja." He angrily stomps out of the room.
"Clean your face up," Arja repeats and slams the door.
For six hours, I think I'm having a heart attack. I stay outside on the balcony, wailing at times but mostly gasping for air.
Carlos never comes back to the bedroom, and the sun eventually rises.
Slowly, the red hibiscuses come into focus. An infinity symbol laced through a heart is in the middle of the lawn.
Never ending, limitless love.
When the seamstresses arrive for the final wedding gown fitting, I'm sobbing uncontrollably on the balcony.
"Aww. What a wonderful man you have. I didn't realize Carlos was so romantic," one of them gushes.
It only makes me cry harder.
When one of them asks me what happened to my face, I lie without even thinking about it. "I ran into the door."
I'm a mess the entire fitting. The wedding is in two days, and I don't know how to get through the rehearsal tomorrow night. I'm required to say our vows. Any slip of imperfection and Carlos is going to be unforgiving.
Since Carlos has been working so many hours, he's not tried to have sex with me. I've been asleep anytime he's come in. Well, I faked sleeping.