“What’s going on with Enrique? Are you in love?”
“I think so. But what is love?”
“Ay, Cari. Love is love. It’s easy. I love Tiburón.”
“What do you love about him?”
A goldendoodle dashed in front of her, retrieving a ball his owner threw.
“I love how he makes me feel. How he spoils me. How he talks about the future with me in it. I love how good he is with our sisters. How respectful he was to Papá. He has made me feel like a queen. He’s sexy, too. I know he will do anything for me. He calls me his princesa.”
“I’m so happy for you, Blanca, I really am.”
It was so black-and-white to Blanca. Meet, talk, court, propose, get married, have babies. Happily ever after. But Carolina didn’t want that life. Oh my God. What if Carolina was already pregnant? They had used a condom but those didn’t always work.
She brushed that thought aside. Clearly, she was getting paranoid.
Now that Carolina had actually had sex, she no longer regardedit as the holy act that she’d always believed it would be. Then again, she’d had premarital sex, so maybe it would’ve felt different if Enrique had been her husband?
She loved sex. It made her feel amazing, and she enjoyed sharing that special intimate moment with Enrique. She wanted to have it again. And again and again. But she didn’t want to feel like she had to make their relationship work solely because she had lost her virginity to him.
And she didn’t just like Enrique because he was a great lover. She enjoyed his calm personality. How kind he was toward others. How he really wanted to change people’s lives.
He was wonderful.
Whether she was with Enrique or not, she needed a plan for her life. If her father wouldn’t forgive her, what were her options? She could work awkwardly on the farm and live off-site, but running into him, enduring his cold silence every time she saw him... it would be too much. It would break her heart.
And if she didn’t go back, what would happen to the farm and all the workers who depended on her?
Could she buy another farm? Did she have enough money to do that? And where would she do it? If she set one up near home, she would be essentially competing with a business she’d already established. And if she set one up here... well, she knew no one. Had no contacts. No workers or managers she trusted. No one except her aunt.
But was love enough?
Washeenough?
“What about you? Are you moving in with Enrique?”
“No. Definitely not. Though he asked.” Her aunt’s words rang in her head.Don’t go from one man’s house to another man’s house.But unfortunately for Carolina, her father’s wordsalsorang in her head.
¿Por qué comprar el cerdo entero si sólo te interesa la salchicha?
Not much better than the English version of “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
Carolina didn’t want to be purchased like a pig, a cow, or a house.
She just wanted to find herself. She needed to stand alone and figure out her feelings toward Enrique and make sure she wasn’t just caught up in the turmoil of her life.
“Are you coming back here? I mean, you can’t. Like, not to the farm. But to town?”
“Blanca, I own the farm, and the house. But no, I don’t want to come back to Santa Maria. Not yet.”
“Well, I love you. I’ll try to call you when I can sneak away. I hope to see you soon.” She paused. “You know, if you ended things with Enrique—came back here without him—I’m sure Papá would forgive you. Life could go back to how it was. Simple.”
Her gut wrenched. She didn’t want to end things with Enrique just to get back in her father’s good graces, to tuck her tail between her legs and go back home, to be forgiven for a crime that she hadn’t committed.
But she wasn’t sure staying with Enrique was the right idea, either. No matter how much she wanted to.
“I’m not going to do that, Blanca, at least not for Papá. But promise me something—don’t rush into anything with Tiburón. Make sure you really want this.”
