Yeah, I did that. I made Caleb question his worth. I solidified every single thing he thought about himself, that he was unworthy of it all because I didn’t pick him straight away. I hesitated. And now I’m about to be stuck in the life I wasrunning from. Stuck, because I’m apparently too weak to do a thing about it.
“It’s nice to see, after all this time, Antonio, that you were able to wrangle that wild daughter of yours. Finally, a woman worth the Castillo name.” I flinch and make an obvious effort to glare at Miguel Sr. while peeling Miguel Jr.’s hand off my thigh. I had absolutely no intention of becoming a Mrs. Anything…I was just becoming really good at being passive about it all. The less argumentative I was, the sooner I could leave.
“Yes, well, it was that job, it was a distraction, and now she can focus on making better choices for her life.” My father agreed with a smile. I am suddenly very aware why my mother relied on alcohol and disassociating. It was hard being an educated woman among these men who acted like God’s gift to humanity and treated us like commodities.
I take a deep inhale through my nose, and on my very long, very calm release of breath, I use an infinite amount of patience to pry Miguel Jr.’s hand off my shoulder. The man was being an unrepentant ass and it was starting to make a little panic rise from deep within my stomach. If he was like this the day before the engagement party, I really didn’t want to know what he thought he could do as a husband.
Since I came to my senses—as my father says—Antonio Garcia has never looked more relaxed. His shoulders no longer hit his ears and his neck doesn’t look like it strains under the pressure of his anger. Mickey—or Miguel Jr., as my father has insisted I start calling him—has taken to becoming extra handsy. Any time we’re in the same room, he decides he can put his hands on me whenever he pleases. A grope to my ass, an arm looped around my shoulders as he drags my body into his, a firm and unpleasant hand on my thigh. I thought maybe over time I’d just get used to it. But even a few days isn’t enough. I start to anticipate it and feel bile rising up my throat.
Instead, it makes me miss Caleb even more. My mask of indifference slips and my ability to disassociate from these people vanishes as the pain and ache at losing Caleb shoots through me, knocking the air from my lungs and making it hard to stay upright.
I miss him.I miss him so painfully I wish he’d storm in here and save me. And that is the worst, most anti-Rosie thought ever—to be a damsel in distress. But right now, I’m feeling very damsel and very in distress.
“Rosita, you should smile. It is a joyous time. The two families are coming together, our legacies will join together and form something even greater. I think, given your age, we should expect an heir straight away.” My father nods at me, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
My heart starts to clench in my chest, panic gripping me. I knew what I was doing when I didn’t fight back. I knew what I was picking when I didn’t go after Caleb.
But I chose wrong. I knew watching him walk away that I was choosing wrong, but the words stuck in my throat. I froze because choosing Caleb meant being out of control; it meant falling and not knowing where I’d land. But…maybe getting a little lost before finding my footing wouldn’t be so bad if Caleb was there by my side.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Garcia. Rosita and I will have a lot of fun preparing the legacy for an heir.” Miguel pulls me against him,again,and a malicious smile spreads across his face. “Won’t we?”
I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t even get through an afternoon of his unsolicited touches. How in the hell am I going to last a lifetime like this? I’ll end up like my mother. Sedated and wishing I could escape. And I fear the only way to escape…no.My life willnotend this way.
In a panic, feeling my heart in my throat and feeling a lot like I want to peel my skin off in all the places that Mickey touches me, I stand from the table, clearing my throat and willing my breath to stall.
It forces my father to glare at me.
“I…I need to use the bathroom.” I throw my napkin to the table, making a mad dash for the bathroom, locking the door, and falling against it.
“What the fuck is happening.” My head lands in my hand as I pace back and forth. Forcing breaths into my lungs and shaking my clammy hands.
This isn’t happening.This is not happening.
I look down at my phone screen and toss it facedown on the vanity. It still reads with the same two notifications I haven’t brought myself to clear.
Two voice messages from Caleb.
On the only two times I didn’t have my phone on me, he called. And both times he left me messages. And the lead has been sitting awfully heavy in my stomach because I don’t know what to do. Caleb probably hates me. I know he doesn’t understand any of it, I know he regrets ever taking things further with me, because it meant opening himself up when he otherwise never would have. And instead of choosing him like I should have, I shredded his heart. His messages are probably reiterating that and I haven’t been able to bring myself to listen to them.
But I see his name on my phone and for a brief moment I feel calm. Like seeing his name instantly makes all of my muscles unclench.
What I’d give to just fall into his arms. For him to hold me, to feel his lips pressed to mine and hear his calm heart beating against his chest.
I fall against the locked bathroom door, sliding down to the ground and curling my knees to my chest.
I let the tears fall. I no longer have the energy to sob, but I let the pain leave my chest out of my stinging eyes as I try to hold my breath.
If I’m going to live a sedated life, maybe I deserve to listen to his tormented heart. I deserve to be berated and stomped on.
Certain with my punishment, I open up the voice messages and hit Play on the first, bringing it to my ear. When I close my eyes and hear his sweet voice, I can almost imagine he’s here with me.
“Rosie. I feel like there is a big wide crack down my chest.”Pain.Sweet, sweet pain lashes through me at the sound of his strangled—and obviously very drunk—voice. “I feel…Ifeel.And that’s so crazy. I’ve never really felt before. Or I have, but I always felt worthless and mediocre. And I was okay feeling that. And then you. Man, I felt you. Like in my soul I felt you there. And now you’re not there. And I feel worthless again. Except this time, I know what I had. I know how to not be worthless. So now I feel even worse.”
I was right, listening to Caleb, his watery words, feels like I’m cutting out my own heart again. A silent sob breaks through my lips, but I force myself to push through. “You’re like the devil of hearts, you know? You just take them all, leaving their host empty.” He grunts it and thenI swearI can hear him sniffling.
The phone suddenly sounds muffled, I can hear him cursing in the background. “No, I didn’t mean that. You are not the heart devil. You did break mine, though. But I know you’re all soft on the inside and hard on the outside. I hate your dad so much. He made you hard on the outside. So, you didn’t know I loved you. You didn’t know and you didn’t trust it. And I guess that’s okay.” Caleb Smith is ruining my heart.
I feel like I’m crumbling to pieces. My chest physically burns and when he speaks next, his soft whispers sound like he’d been crying and it breaks every last part of me. “Tell me,” he whispers, “Tell me how to be in this world, Rosebud. How do I breathe? How do I wake up tomorrow or look forward to any day after? Without you?” I don’t miss the sobs.
