“Me alegra, Cecita María.” He puts a hand on my arm. “Yo veo cómo te mira.”
I’m glad, Cecita María.I see how he looks at you.
“¿Cómo me mira?” I ask him, desperate for his thoughts. My papá is the wisest man I know. I need his insight.
How does he look at me?
“Como si fueras el sol, y todo su mundo girara alrededor de ti,” he tells me softly, and a tear drops down my cheek.
Like you’re the sun, and his whole world revolves around you.
Chapter 54
Roman
The women work in the kitchen preparing Sunday lunch, much to my dismay. I know whatever they create will be delicious, but I don’t love the precedent of the women cooking for me. I think it’s because I was raised only with brothers. We did all the chores.
I corner Señor Hernando on the patio. He’s outside watering the garden.
I’m more nervous for this conversation that I’ve ever been. And I’m in dangerous situations daily. I’ve been shot and tortured, but it’s never been like this.
“This is my wife’s garden,” he says softly with his back to me. “But when she’s busy cooking for our family, or taking care of my mother, or watching our granddaughter, she’ll forget about it. This garden brings her so much joy, so when she accidentally neglects it, I tend to it.” He turns off the hose and turns to look at me. “Anita es mi vida. She’s my world. I’d do anything for her. So, I do for her what she doesn’t do for herself. I may be the patriarch of this family, but she’s the glue that holdsus together. We couldn’t function without her. I will always take care of my wife.” His eyes harden, and he straightens in a way that makes his look younger and more formidable. “Would you do the same for my daughter?”
I soak in his words and realize I’ve been looking at this wrong. Yes, his wife does the cooking and cleaning, taking care of the family. But her husband takes care of her. It’s different from how I was raised, but it doesn’t make it wrong. And if that’s how Cecilia wants us to operate, I can adjust. Because I’ll always take care of her.
“Cecilia, your daughter, she’s my priority. Her happiness, health, and safety go before my own. She’s my sunshine, and my day can only shine brightly if hers does. All I want is to take care of her for the rest of our lives. That’s actually what I want to talk to you about,” I stand taller, needing him to see me as worthy. “I’d like to marry your daughter. And I want your approval. I know how much her family means to her, so without it, Cecilia would be conflicted.”
I hold my breath, praying he doesn’t shut me down.
“Ah, I see,” he tells me, then motions with his hand for me to continue.
“Sir, I love your daughter. And I’ll spend every day making her the happiest woman on this planet. She walks around with my heart in her hands. She is my heart. I won’t, can’t, spend a day without her. She’ll never want for anything. I want a house full of our children running around happy and free, and I know she wants it too. I love her and would do anything for her.” I’m begging him to understand. He needs to know what Cecilia means to me.
“Would you sacrifice your own happiness for hers? Your success and fortune? Your life?” he asks calmly. His eyes never leave mine, and I can tell he’ll know if I lie. But I don’t have to.
“Yes. I’d give anything up for her, even my life. I’ll protect her, provide for her, keep her safe and happy and warm. She’ll never know struggle or pain.” My voice is strong as I promise him promises I’ve already made to myself.
“Good. Roman, you’re a good man to my daughter. I see it in the way you treat her, the way you look at her. We will be honored to have you as a part of the family. Yes, you have my approval. I look forward to calling you mi hijo.” He looks so deeply into my eyes when he says it, that I suspect he can see into my soul.
“Thank you, sir,” I promise him. Relief floods through me. This went better than expected.
He shakes my hand but doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls me in, and his features shift from formidable to dangerous.
“Cecita is my little girl. Even though she’s grown, she’ll always be mijita. If you harm a hair on her body, I don’t care who you are and what you’re capable of, Roman Montclair, I will destroy you,” he tells me in a low voice. It’s calm, and that makes it all the more terrifying.
I thought I knew threats. I thought I knew danger.
But I realize, I’ve never come across the love a father has for his daughter, and what he’s capable of doing to those who hurt her.
And I know if we ever have a daughter, I’ll go to just as many lengths to keep her safe.
I didn’t think I’d ever find respect, or fear, in a threat. Especially not coming from a man old enough to be my father, but I do. I respect this man all the more. And fear him a little.
“Yes, sir. If she’s ever hurt because of me, I’ll let you,” I dip my head in acknowledgement.
He squeezes my hand once more, then drops it and steps back.
“I know there’s more to you than she’s aware of. Cecilia’s optimism can blind her. I don’t care who you are or what you do, as long as you take care of her,” he pauses. “A word of advice from a man who’s been a husband for over three decades: A sturdy foundation cannot be built on lies. One gust of truth, and the house will fall.”
