His exasperation fails to hide what he isn’t saying, what he really wants to know—why I am upsetting the little world they created for me. The lie.
“You want to know the funny thing about all of this, Miguel?” Senseless tears prick at the back of my eyes. “When I left, I knew nothing of Jared or the filthy lies you have been spewing all these years. I was just sick of living a life that wasn’t mine. A life where I was controlled and had no free will.”
“Eva, not this again.” He tries for a pained expression, but I’m sure he’s more exasperated than anything else. We’ve discussed this to death.
“No free will? How can you say such a thing?” Papi dares to feign indignation, and bile crawls up my throat. Who are these men? I can barely believe I used to think so highly of them.
Angling my head to the side, I purse my lips, frustrated with their contrived ignorance. “You both know exactly what I mean.”
“Eva.” Miguel nears, placing his hands on my shoulders and staring into my eyes. “Your happiness is all I care about. All we care about. You know this.”
His knuckles glide along my cheek, and the gesture echoes Jared’s from not too long ago. Except this time, peace quits my body, replaced by resentment. I turn away from his touch, and a growl rumbles low in his chest.
“My happiness?” Bitter laughter rushes out of my mouth. “I’m finding it hard to believe you. Not too long ago, I’d have never believed you capable of lying to me, and you’ve proven I can’t trust you. And on top of that, I couldn’t stay in Spain. I couldn’t be there with your controlling ways and manipulation.”
“Eva, let’s not do this again. I apologized for that misunderstanding. You can trust me. Always.” He inches closer and stops, reading my tense and uninviting stance. “I respect your father and he…”
Pausing, he glances to the man in question whose gaze, in turn, is narrowed, cautious as to where Miguel is going with this.
“We agreed to not tell you. We agreed to keep all knowledge of that man—”
“That man? His name is Jared.” The volume of my voice spikes, and a sharp pain shoots up my neck and into my head.
“Sorry, yes, Jared. At first, I didn’t want to lie to you, but I trusted that Alonso knew best.”
“Miguel.” My father, who has been quiet for most of this, steps forward, puffing out his chest. It’s a warning.
These two men have been on the same side for as long as I can recall. Even against my grandfather, despite the fact that Miguel worked for him. And now, this could be shifting.
“It’s okay, Alonso. Eva has a right to hear this.” Miguel lowers his hand, waving it in a step back or keep quiet motion to my father. “Jared isn’t good for you. Your health is paramount. We only did what we thought was best for you.”
“Best for me?” It feels like someone is about to tear my heart from my chest. “If you cared for me, you would have told me about Jared. Trusted my judgment, but you didn’t. And all those times I confided in you, told you about him and how much I missed him…not once did you waver, not once did you say a word. I really shouldn’t be surprised.”
I spin on my heel, facing the large window and the now-fading light.
“Don’t say that. You can trust me, and I will show you. Let me make it up to you.”
Shaking my head, I refuse to face him, give him a chance. My generosity has all but died where my supposed family is concerned, and Miguel is one of them.
“Please leave. I want to be alone.”
“Eva, we need to talk,” my father says.
“No. Not now.”
“When can I come back?” Miguel asks.
“Back?” I peer over my shoulder, brows knitted. “I don’t want to talk to either of you tonight. I need some space.”
“I thought I’d stay here…with you.” He glances around the room to suggest there is more than enough space.
Space isn’t the issue.
“No. Get your own room.”
“Eva, why are you being like this?”
“Like what? Stubborn? Difficult?” The words are daggers meant to wound.
Whenever I have an idea of my own, a desire that doesn’t suit their conventions of who I am or should be, then I’m a sullen child wanting to get her way.
“We need to talk. We’ve always been able to settle our differences.” His placating tone chafes.
Settle? No, more like I comply to his point of view. It’s always been that way with both my father and Miguel. That ended several weeks ago now, even if neither of them chose to accept it. That’s why I left.
And now, things look even clearer to me in the startling light of their lie. They used my grief and indifference to living as a means to control me, and I’ll admit, I let them.
Until recently, I didn’t care to shake things up. But not anymore. I’ve put up with this for too long and I am done.
“We’re not talking anymore tonight. I want to be alone, and you need to find a place to stay.” I turn away from them, more interested in the sunset. “Hopefully they have rooms available.”
“Eva.” Miguel says my name with such disappointment, and many months ago, I’d have cared, even ached to hear my perceived failure aimed at me. I didn’t want to let either of them down, but now I keep my back to them, hardhearted. Everything has changed.
The door eventually opens and clicks shut. It’s only then I exhale my breath, the air instantly feeling lighter.
When we left Jared and Bianca, we drove back to my hotel in mostly silence. The first thing I confirmed was that Miguel had known about Jared. In fact, he’d known almost from the minute I arrived in Spain after the accident.
Our entire relationship, rotten as it is, is even more spoiled and infected by this duplicitous lie.
Rubbing at my temples, I call the concierge and arrange for an appointment at the closest float center. A headache is coming on, and I need to relax.
Once I’ve eliminated the stress and lessened the tension, I go back to the hotel and shower. Coming from the bathroom in my room, my phone rings on the counter.
“Hello.” Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
“Hey, it’s Jared.” His voice is a soft rumble, and my heart pangs with an all-too-familiar yearning. My constant state since I was told he was dead.
“Hi. How are you?”
“I need to see you.”
“Okay, where?”
“Would you be pissed if I told you I’m downstairs in your hotel lobby?”
Laughter bubbles from my throat. “Of course not. I just got out of the shower. I need about five minutes, but why don’t you come up to my room?”
I realize how it sounds as the words leave my mouth, but he doesn’t take it the wrong way. I rhyme off the room number and start to dress before even hanging up.
Unable to contain my excitement, I stick my head out of my room, and my breath catches at the sight of him sauntering down the hotel corridor toward me. Masculine and sexy. My heart pangs and I ignore it, smiling.
“Hey.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he offers me a lazy, lopsided grin.
I wish he wouldn’t smile at me the way he is right now. It seizes the air from my lungs, savage and abrupt like the onset of a panic attack, yet the sensation is more exhilaration than fear.