Page 31 of Hate That Blooms
Three months? You left me on read for three fucking months, and now you wanna know why I’m the silent one? Como dije antes, no eres mi rey.
She missed me, too.
I quickly typed a reply, hitting send.
Lo siento, Riena. Here is where you’re wrong, though: Siempre seré tu rey.
I hit send, and I looked up to see Gabriela staring right at me, her expression of confusion and possibly even a hint of anger.Fuck, did she see me respond to the message? No. My book is hiding my phone from view. She couldn’t have.Gabriela knowing it’s been me all along would make things difficult.
I do the only thing I can think of to deter her. I raise my middle finger, hardening my gaze, which makes her cheeks flush. Watching her turn and head to the parking lot has me packing my shit in my bag, sprinting after her. I want to know where she lives, and part of me wants to make sure she and the little one are safe. Safe from everyone but me.
* * *
Minutes seem to stretch into hours as I sit in my truck across the street and a house down from theirs. The night sky is pitch black tonight, with ominous clouds hanging and just enough of a chill in the air to need a sweatshirt. How long am I going to sit here and just watch the house like a fucking psychopath? Just as doubt starts to creep in, my phone buzzes with a notification. It’s Gabriela. My heart sits in my throat as I unlock my phone and open the message.
Goodnight. Please don’t ignore me anymore.
Dios, eso suena desesperado. Olvídalo.
Pronto. Pronto tendrás todo de mí.
All the lights in the house go out, and I wait an excruciating amount of time more before I actually get out of the truck. With my black skull face balaclava on and hood up, I check the surroundings. The street is dead silent, and the thudding of my black sneakers echoes on the street as I sprint across. Once I’m on their porch, I notice they don’t have any cameras, which I am grateful for at the moment. On the other hand, they need one—at least one of those doorbell ones. My girls need to be safe. I scan the entire porch in search of any potential hiding spot for a hide-a-key. Directing my attention towards a group of planters, I roll my eyes, hoping she isn’t this predictable. Sure enough, underneath the largest one is the silver key.
“Fuck.” I mumble, shaking my head as I slide the key into the deadbolt and then doorknob and turn. She needs to be smarter about shit like this. I mean, look how easily I’m getting into the house. What if it was someone who wanted to rob them or sexually assault her? Or Mireya, that thought alone makes my heart rate go up. The moment I step into her home, I am immediately hit with the intoxicating scent of Gabriela. As quietly as I can, I close the door, then turn to take in the state of the house.
Toys are all over the living room, and I don’t know why, but it makes me smile. I carefully navigate through the scattered toys, making sure not to make any noise that could potentially wake anyone up. The house is eerily quiet, amplifying the sound of my racing heartbeat.
The dim light from the moon filters through the curtains, casting shadows across the room. I can’t help but notice the personal touches that adorn the walls—family photos, artwork, and memories. It’s as if I’m peering into a world that is not my own, a world that I have no right to be a part of.
All I have ever brought her is pain.
In the back of my mind, a singular thought nags at me.All Gabriela is to me is a reminder of my mother abandoning me.I make my way towards the darkened hallway. Each creak of my footsteps on the hardwood floor sends a shiver down my spine, heightening my awareness of the risk I am taking. But my obsession with Gabriela has clouded my judgment, overpowering any rational thoughts.
As I reach the first door on my left, I see the door is open, and it’s just a bathroom. To my right, another door, this one, closed. I turn the knob and peer inside to find her little sister asleep in a tent-covered bed. My heart skips a beat, knowing that Gabriela must be just a few steps away from me in another room.
I approach the second to last door, my hand trembling as I turn the doorknob. Slowly, I push the door open, revealing a room that is both familiar and foreign to me. The soft glow of a nightlight illuminates the space, revealing a neatly made bed and a few boxes of clothes and other items. Moving closer, I look into one of the boxes—scrubs. My heart sank as the realization hit me—these things must have belonged to their mother.
I pause there for a moment, taking in the room and absorbing the atmosphere. It gives off a sense of holiness, a sanctuary that embodies the core of their mother. I resist the urge to touch anything, afraid of disturbing the delicate balance of her personal things.
My eyes shift to the last door in the hallway. No light comes from under the door, so I can only hope that she’s actually asleep. I close the door to the room behind me and turn and come face to face with Gabriela’s door. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for any movement. When I’m satisfied she’s asleep, I open the door to her room, and my eyes fall to her sleeping half-naked body in the king-sized bed.
The bed where I should be sleeping with her.
No, stop it. Stop thinking she would even for a second consider willingly inviting you into her bed.
I stand there for a moment, taking in Gabriela’s serene expression, overwhelmed by conflicting feelings of affection and remorse. She looks so vulnerable, unaware of the intrusion in her life that I am about to become again. The moonlight from the large double windows next to the bed cast a soft glow on her features, accentuating her beauty. It’s in these moments that my obsession with her feels twisted and wrong.
I take a step closer, my footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. I resist the urge to touch her, to trace my fingers along the contours of her face, to see if her skin is as soft as I have dreamt it to be. This invasion of her personal space is already crossing boundaries that should never be crossed. But I can’t help myself.
My back connects with the wall across from her bed, and I continue to watch her sleep. Memories of my mother abandoning me flood my mind. Gabriela’s presence serves as a constant reminder of that pain, yet I can’t seem to let go. The need to possess her, to make her mine, consumes me.
A tear falls from my eye, and I allow it to fall, shifting my gaze away from Gabriela. I scan her room, taking in the contents of her space and getting to know her in a way I never could. Posters and pictures adorn the walls, capturing special moments of her life. It’s as if I’m glimpsing into a world I have never been a part of.
You should leave, Quín. She could wake up and catch you. Breaking and entering won’t look good on a job application. Pretty sure it will get you kicked out of school too.
The sad part is I almost want her to wake up and catch me. Just so we can confront each other privately. Maybe we could work through all the bullshit and then at the end of it we’d be able to move on.
My obsession with her is overpowering any rational thoughts or moral compass. I take a step closer to Gabriela’s bed, my heart pounding in my chest. The temptation to touch her, to wake from what seems to be a restful night's sleep and claim her as mine, is overwhelming.
