Just as well that my phone was out of battery, otherwise I might have been tempted to message Mason again.
The knock sounded again, and I got up and opened the door only to come face to face with David. My eyes narrowed, and I suppressed the urge to snarl at him. Instead I closed the door on him without a word.
“Stella, come on. Don’t be like that. We need to talk.”
I glared at the door. “Nothing to talk about, other than you’re a backstabbing, heartless minion.”
“Now that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? I understand you’re angry, but you’ll come to see the value of this connection as soon as you calm down.”
“The only people benefitting from this arrangement are you and my mother. Not sure how you could think this is anything I would ever accept.”
He was delusional. Surely he would understand how this ridiculous idea would never go anywhere.
“Don’t you want to get out from under your mother’s thumb? If you marry me, you’ll have all the freedom you ever wanted.”
That thought made me stop pacing and stare at the door. I had a taste of freedom and wanted to keep it. The thought of having to go back to the way things were made me nauseous. But the thought of marrying David felt wrong. Not while I had such strong feelings for Mason, even if he left me high and dry and didn’t respond to my messages.
Five minutes of silence passed and I thought he’d left, when he knocked again.
“If you open the door, we can talk about this like the mature adults we are. I know you’ll come to see how this is going to benefit you as well.”
I didn’t make a move to open the door. I needed time to think about this. And I had to talk to Willa.
A business card was pushed under my door. “That’s my new number. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
His receding footsteps meant that I was finally alone. I went back to the bed and searched the nightstand for a charger. I didn’t have much luck and gave up in defeat.
I got a change of clothes out of my still overflowing closet and turned on the water in my bathroom. It was as big as Willa’s living room, the rainfall shower something I had to admit I actually missed. I stripped my clothes off and stepped into the warm water. It was heaven standing under the stream, and my arm didn’t sting when I put it under the water. At least I was almost back to normal.
The shower was quick since I didn’t want to risk getting my arm too wet. I dressed back in black skinny jeans that were hidden in the back of my closet and a blouse. Wearing jeans was a statement I wanted to make, since they were something that I was never allowed to wear.
I slipped into a pair of flats and made my way down to the kitchen. Only Maria, our housekeeper, was there and she let out an excited yelp when she saw it was me.
“Mija, you are back,” she said in her heavily accented English. She had always been one of my favorite people, having worked here for as long as I could remember. She also secretly taught me a few words of Spanish even though I wasn’t allowed to learn any per my mother’s decree. My dad was a poor Columbian immigrant and according to my mother her biggest mistake. Once he was gone she forbade any reminders he ever existed and that included the language.
I stepped into her embrace and a few tears rolled down my cheeks. She was like a surrogate mom, always looking out for me and being my sounding board when I needed it.
“I missed you,” I sniffed into her starched blouse, taking in the familiar scent of laundry detergent and food.
“Mi corazón,” she whispered and petted my back.
After a few minutes I let go and wiped my eyes with the tissue she handed me.
“I’m happy to see you, but why are you back?” she asked.
“Mother made me.”
She shook her head and got a cup out and filled it with coffee. “That woman,” she said. That was as far as she would ever go with showing her displeasure. I knew she was worked up when she didn’t say anything else. Maria always chose her words carefully and never spoke in anger. It wasn’t her way and something I wish I learned from her. Not that she didn’t try to teach me how to control my impulsiveness, but my temper usually got the best of me.
She held the coffee out to me and I gratefully took it. “Gracias,” I whispered, still too much of that frightened little girl in me to speak any language other than English in this house.
“Do you have a charger anywhere?” I asked and held up my phone. She nodded and went to rummage through a drawer, coming up with a charger.
I plugged my phone in and continued to sip my coffee. Maria hustled around the kitchen, getting lunch organized already, most likely. Meal times had to be carefully planned out, and my mother didn’t allow for anyone to be late or for a meal to be anything but what she had planned for the week.
I turned my phone back on, and it beeped a few times but otherwise stayed silent. I had a message from Willa, who was checking in, and one from Rayna, telling me she was trialing a new donut flavor and needed a taste tester.
It was nearly nine, and if I didn’t get my butt into gear, I was going to be late for work. Where I still intended to go, since all my mother had asked of me was to move back in, not to stay in the house all day. I knew it’s what she implied, but she couldn’t punish me for something that she didn’t outright order me to do.
