“I don’t have time to go into it, but once we’re in a safe space, you can ask all the questions you want.”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll answer them,” she said. “You rarely did in the past. I was expected to trust you implicitly.”
“Clearly, that lesson went unlearned because you still don’t know how to do what’s best, which means listening to me. Now stop verbally flaying the skin off my back. We need to get out of here.”
She stared at him. For the first time, she noticed impatience in his eyes. Ildefanso had never lacked patience. Control was his middle name, as the saying went.
He brushed back the wisp of hair that had come loose from her ponytail during her rant. “Todavía tan hermosa,” he whispered.
She was pinned to the wall, but she still managed to recoil from his hand. “Don’t,” she hissed with pain, despite the fact that shewanted to lean into his touch. “You have no right to say that. To even think it.”
His face shuttered into an emotionless mask, then he backed away. As he did, he tapped on his watch and spoke into it. “We’re heading out. Be ready on my mark.” To her, he said, “If there’s anything else you can think of that you need, get it now. You won’t be coming back here.”
Ugh, this man was so infuriating! Was she being a total shrew? Yes. Did she care? No. He made her grieve for years, thinking he’d died. How was it possible that he was here? Somehow, the whole charade of him being dead was so Ildefanso.
That wasn’t fair. He’d never shied away from difficult things as long as she’d known him. So what had been the point of faking his death?
Was pretending to be dead his way of coping with the loss? Had she not been enough for him to get through the agony of Tobias’ bloody body, his friend, Kent, bleeding out beside him after trying to save their child? How dare he come back now after she’d successfullyput him away in his grave in her mind and turned her back on it?
Okay. So she hadn’t been successful at that. But it made her feel better to lie to herself as if it were true.
Her brain railed against him. Her heart, not so much. It recognized that, despite everything, she’d never stopped loving him, even when things went bad between them. Watching him walk away, even just as far as the kitchen, it felt like her heart was breaking all over again.
No. He didn’t get to do this to her.
She dragged in a breath, ready to go at him a second time, knowing she was being a harpy. But every single emotion she’d ever felt for this man was pouring out of her, lava hot, each one dragging her under and suffocating her with the depression of being abandoned to grieve alone for Tobias. The heartache of watching Livia slip further and further into her illness with his departure. And then the utter devastation when the Navy chaplain stood at her door and told her that her husband had died while imprisoned for crimes of domestic terrorism against the country he’d given everything for. Literally. Crimes she knew in her heart that Ildefanso never committed.
How? From the moment she met him, he proved he was different from the men he worked for.
11
2008
Daleyza
A knockon the door interrupted her murderous thoughts.
Before she could even reply, the door was opening, and her aunt was scuttling into the room. Immediately, the woman began to adjust the train of the opulent wedding gown. Why? No one was here but the two of them. She was in the freaking dressing room. It wasn’t as if she were standing at the front of the church, where everyone would be witness to the immaculate fairy tale the family was trying to fabricate.
Her temper fraying, she tapped her aunt’s hand as if she were a naughty child touching something she shouldn’t be. “Tiá Bianca, stop fussing. As long as I appear at the altar, I could be wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It’s not like this is a real wedding.”
“What nonsense! Of course this is a real wedding. Your brother has gone to great expense to make today beautiful for his little sister.”
“Mierda! If you believe that, you’re a fool. None of this is for me. I didn’t choose any of it, including the groom. It’s all for show. Ademonstration of our family’s loyalty. Until my father fucked up, my existence was barely tolerated. Now I’m simply a commodity to be bought and sold.”
Her aunt clicked her tongue as she turned her attention to making sure Daleyza’s veil framed her face just right. It was telling that the woman didn’t deny the bride’s words and preferred to believe in the fantasy that this marriage was a love match.
As if! She’d never even seen the groom. Not even a photograph. Then again, she’d only been told this morning, after being brought to the church, no less, that she was being wed to Hector Colonel’s bastard, wayward son, Ildefanso. She doubted he’d been asked his opinion, either, but it was different for men. He’d marry her, then probably go on his merry way with whatever mistress he had hanging around. That’s how her brothers were. Why would he be any different?
Suddenly, the door opened with no preamble. Her eldest brother stood one step in the doorway, outfitted in a black suit and tie over a crisp white button-down shirt. He looked as if he were attending a funeral instead of a wedding. It wasn’t lost on her that the comparison was probably a more appropriate description of what was about to happen to her.
“It’s time.”
Not “You look beautiful, Daleyza.” Not “I’m sorry you have to do this.” Not “We appreciate your sacrifice.” Nothing.
Before she thought better of it, she took several steps toward him. “Rodrigo, please, I be?—”
Crack!
