“I’m sorry—” Luis starts.
“You're sorry?”My mother’s voice drops to a harsh whisper.“You’re sorry you got caught.You’re sorry that boy beat you bloody.But you’re not sorry for what you did to Eve.Don’t you dare insult me by pretending otherwise.”
She takes a shuddering breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is ice.
“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Luis Sanchez.If I ever—and I meanever—hear that you’ve come near my daughter again, if you’ve so much as looked at her, spoken to her, sent her a message, I will make sure everyone in Sunset Park knows exactly what kind of man you are.”
Luis’s face goes pale beneath the bruising.“You can't?—”
“I can, and I will.”My mother’s eyes are hard.“I’ve lived in that neighborhood for forty years.I know every family, every shop owner, every person who matters.Your father will know.Your brothers will know.Father Tomás will know.Everyone will know that you’re the kind of man who beats women.And when your father finds out?When your brothers find out?”She lets the threat hang in the air.
In our community, in our neighborhood, reputation is everything.Family honor is everything.If word spreads that Luis is an abuser, his father—a respected man in the community—will be devastated.His brothers will be ashamed.The family name will be tarnished.
“Please—” Luis’s voice is desperate now.“Don’t tell my father.Please, Mrs.Lopez?—”
“You should have thought of that before you put your hands on my daughter.”My mother’s voice is final.“Consider this your only warning.Stay away from Eve.Stay away from my family.If I see you, if I hear about you, if your name is so much as mentioned in my presence, I will destroy whatever reputation you have left.”
She turns her back on him, dismissing him completely, and walks back to where I’m standing.The officers finally start to move Luis away, his protests and pleas echoing down the hallway as they take him to be processed.
My brothers are standing there, stunned into silence.They’ve just watched our mother—the woman who pushed me toward Luis for months, who made Sunday dinners unbearable with her insistence that I marry him—threaten to destroy his life for hurting me.
When my mother reaches me, all the fire, all the fury that animated her moments ago, drains away.Her shoulders sag.Her hands tremble as she reaches for mine.The proud, stubborn woman who always stood so straight, who never showed weakness, looks suddenly small.Fragile.Broken.
Tears stream down her face unchecked, and her voice, when she speaks, is barely a whisper.
“Mija.”The word breaks in the middle.“I don’t expect you to forgive me.Not now.Maybe not ever.But I need you to know—Ineverwould have pushed you toward him if I had known.Never.”
Her grip on my hands tightens, and I can feel her shaking.“A mother protects her children.That’s what a mother does.And I—” Her voice cracks completely.“I failed you.”
I don't know what to say.My throat is tight, my eyes burning.This is what I wanted—for her to see, to understand, to believe me.But now that it’s happening, seeing her like this—this broken, devastated version of my mother—I feel nothing but empty and exhausted.
“Eve.”The voice cuts through the fog in my head.I turn, and my breath catches.
Caleb.
He’s walking toward me, flanked by Jake and Ethan.His knuckles are bandaged, there’s a cut above his jaw, and his clothes are wrinkled and disheveled, but he’s here.He’s free.His blue eyes scan the scene—my mother’s tears, my brothers’ guilty faces, the officers still escorting Luis down the hallway—before they lock onto mine.
Something in his expression makes my chest loosen, makes it easier to breathe.He doesn’t hesitate.He crosses the distance between us in quick strides, and suddenly I’m moving, too, breaking away from my mother’s grip, from my brothers’ watchful stares.I meet him halfway, and his arms wrap around me, solid and warm and real.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs against my hair.“It’s okay.Stop shaking.”I didn’t realize I was shaking until he said it.I press my face against his chest, breathing him in—sweat and copper and the faint scent of the cologne he wears.Proof that he’s here, that he’s okay.
“Are you alright?”I pull back enough to look at his face, at the cut on his jaw, the bruising on his knuckles.“Did they?—”
“I’m fine.”His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb gentle against the bruise Luis left.His eyes darken.“But you’re not.”
“I will be.”
Behind him, Jake clears his throat.“Well, this is certainly more dramatic than I expected tonight to be.”
Ethan’s gaze moves past me to where my family stands.His expression is unreadable, but there’s something assessing in the way he looks at my brothers, then at my mother.His eyes move back to me.“The charges against Caleb have been dropped.The security footage from the restaurant corroborated your statement.Mr.Sanchez, however, will be formally charged with assault and attempted kidnapping.”
Relief floods through me so suddenly my knees nearly buckle.Caleb’s arm tightens around me, keeping me steady.“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I should be asking you that.”I gesture to his injuries.“You’re the one who got arrested.”
“Worth it.”The simple statement carries so much weight.Ethan smacks him on the back of the head without so much as one facial muscle moving.“What?”Caleb glares at him.“The fucker had it coming.You didn’t hear what he was saying to her.”
“Caleb, enough.”Ethan’s voice brooks no arguments.“Take your girlfriend home.”
