Page 97 of Sweet Heart

“And you must be Mary,” he says nonchalantly, as he steps forward with his hand outstretched.

I stare at him bewildered. Is he for fucking real? But his eyes bore into mine as he pushes on.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he says with a soft smirk that instantly reminds me of his comment this morning.

Lie. He wants you to lie.

My bottom lip trembles, and my eyes dart back and forth as I try to decide what I should do. If I refuse to take his hand, I will look rude, but if I say something now, Cat will know that I kept it from her. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, and Eduardo must smell my fear because his lip twitches up slightly.

But I can’t. I can’t flat-out lie to the woman who risked everything for me.

“Maria?”

Cat’s voice is so close to my ear that it startles me back into the present. I turn to her, gripping her shirt to anchor myself. I look at her with panic in my eyes, and it feels like everything is happening all at once. My fingers twitch, I break out in a cold sweat, and my stomach cramps uncomfortably. Wait. Why did I not notice this before?

“Hey, hey, come on, sit down.”

She guides me to the nearest couch, and I sink into the soft plush while she kneels before me. Her fingertips find the inside of my wrist, while she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with her other hand.

“Where is your meter?”

I shake my head. It’s back home, on the nightstand. I didn’t think of bringing it. Again. But Cat doesn’t get frustrated. She just nods and strokes my hair again.

“When was the last time you ate?”

I blink, barely able to focus now that there are so many thoughts running through my mind all at once. Cat asks her mother something in Spanish, and the woman walks away with long strides. Eduardo keeps his place near the door, his eyes dark and narrow as he observes.

“Baby?”

Oh, right… when did I eat last?

“T… this morning before your father—”

The words die on my lips when Cat leans back in surprise. Fuck, no, please no.

“When my father what?”

I shake my head and try to laugh it off.

“No, nothing, my brain is foggy. Sorry.”

But she isn’t buying it. Her eyes narrow as her head whips from me to her father.

“When you what, papá?”

Eduardo’s jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare. Right as he opens his mouth, Rosa enters the room and stops dead in her tracks. The tension must be palpable. She doesn’t ask, only drags her gaze over us all, before continuing her stride toward me.

She sinks down next to me and places a warm hand on my knee, drawing my attention toward her. I look at her as she brings a glass of orange juice to my lips.

“Drink, girl. It will make you feel better.”

I don’t fight it, even though I hate the sweet taste of juice. She is right. It will raise my glucose, which is exactly what I need after running around on an empty tank all day. My fingers shake as they wrap around the glass, but Rosa doesn’t let go. She doesn’t fight to hold it either, but simply follows my lead.

“Juntas,” she whispers. Together.

Cat’s eyes are on me, tracing my throat as I swallow the sugary liquid. After a few minutes, I feel my stomach calm down and the warmth return to my limbs. I give her a small nod.

“Sorry,” I whisper, but Rosa shakes her head.