Chapter 5–You’re No Fun

Tristan’s POV

By the time I stepped into the house, the urgency from the call had already faded.

My sister, Patricia, was waiting in the foyer.

“She had another episode, Tristan…”

I walked past her, taking the stairs two at a time. I stood right in front of Abuela's door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

She sat upright, looking much paler than I had imagined. The moment her eyes landed on me, her expression changed.

“There you are,” she muttered, as if she hadn’t just caused a scene. “Come on in.”

I exhaled slowly, stepping closer. “Patricia said something was wrong.”

“Yes. You weren’t home,” she replied.

“Abuela, I work.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she said, tapping the space next to her. “And you’re always working.”

I reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, sat and helped her drink. “But I am fine.”

She took a slow sip before she spoke, her voice quiet.

“I had a dream, and I’m allowed to be worried, aren’t I?”

“I understand, Abuela, but sometimes you don’t have to get so worked up about something as trivial as a dream,” I replied calmly. “The doctor said you need enough rest, so your blood pressure stays regulated. And your heart condition is not something we can joke with.”

“Rest is for the dead. I’m not dead yet, Tristan.”

The repetition of the word dead made my chest twist painfully. 

“Regardless, you still need to be calm.”

A brief pause settled in the room.

“When are you getting married, Tristan?” she asked quietly. “You can’t keep telling yourself you don’t deserve to be happy.”

I scratched the bridge of my nose. Talk about timing. I was expecting that question.

“Abuela—”

“No,” she cut in firmly. “Don’t ‘Abuela’ me. Every time I bring it up, you always find a way to avoid it.”

“I’m dying, Tristan,” she continued. “Don’t you think I deserve a chance to see your happiness before I die. I’ve never seen you with a woman.”

I ran a hand through my hair, already feeling the conversation slipping into something familiar.

“You worry too much.” I reached for her hand. “And please, can you stop talking about death?”

“I worry because you’re not giving me what I want,”she said, her voice softer now. “A wife.”

“Let’s not even talk about what I want,” she continued. “I need you to forgive yourself and move on, and know that you’re not alone.”

“I have you and Patricia.”

“Patricia is your sister. Of course, she will always be with you. But I’m talking about a companion.”

I remained silent.

“You won’t have to worry about that,” I said finally.

Her eyes locked on me. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ll handle it. If that’s what you want.”

“That is not an answer,” she said.

“That’s what I have for now.”

She let out a breath.

“You know, you’re just like your mother. She was also very stubborn.”

“You tell me all the time.” I grinned, adjusting the blanket over her. “Get some rest now.”

I stood there for a few seconds, making sure she was actually asleep before I left.

Patricia was heading to her room as I stepped out.

“She’s fine now,” I said.

“She’s getting worse, Tristan.”

“Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek.” But I need you to rest now.”

She nodded, then left for her room. I watched her before joining Daniel downstairs.

“How’s she doing?” he asked.

I shrugged.

Daniel nodded once. “Right.”

Nothing passed between us for a moment.

“How did the date go?” Daniel asked.

My gaze flickered slightly. “Well, she’s… interesting.”

Daniel let out a small laugh. “I can imagine. But there just might be a problem.”

My brows pulled together. “And what could that be?”

“Marcus isn’t being completely honest with you.”

“How so?”

“He doesn’t just owe investors money and shit,” Daniel said. “There are other liabilities. And it’s—”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting him off. I pulled it out and glanced at it. My expression darkened.

“What is it?” Daniel asked.

Seriously?”

“Tristan?”

I looked up at him. “What? Yes. Everything’s okay.”

He looked at me like he didn’t believe a word I said. 

“Are you sure?” 

“You should go. We’ll continue our discussion later.”

“Very well then,” he said. “Good night, Tristan.”

It wasn’t until Daniel closed the door behind him that I turned.

My steps were unhurried as I walked down the hallway, past the main living area, toward a part of the house most people didn’t even know existed.

I stepped into the storage room, then slipped behind a hidden door.

There was no handle or visible lock. I pressed my thumb against the scanner. A soft click followed. I walked into the room and climbed down the stairs.

The air was colder down here, heavier. A place I didn’t know was going to be useful.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. A quiet flick. The flame danced briefly before the tip glowed.

The first drag burned slowly down my throat as I moved further in.

Julio sat in the dim light ahead behind the bars. Still.

I stopped a few steps away, eyes settling on him. Then I dragged a chair and sat across the room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Tristan…”

“Do you actually think anyone could hear you down here?”

Then I took another drag from the cigarette. “You can make all the noise you want, and no one's going to give a shit.”

There was a brief pause.

“You’ll get my attention when I decide you’re worth it.”

“I’ve been here for a while now, Tristan,” Julio croaked. “My family is probably wondering where I am.”

“Oh.” I crossed my legs. “They are? Why didn't I think of that? I was expecting them to have informed the cops by now.” 

“They can’t do that, Tristan.”

I let out a laugh. “I wonder why. Tell me something, though… What does it feel like to be married?

Julio said nothing. 

“C’mon.” I groaned. “I thought we were having a conversation? It’d be helpful.”

Julio drew his legs to his chest.

I smacked my lips and got to my feet. “You’re no fun.” I crushed the cigarette under my shoe. “Anyway, see you some other time. Since you’re not gonna tell me what it’s like to be married, I’ll go see for myself.”

His pleas echoed behind me, desperate and broken. I didn’t look back because I didn’t care. He had only been here a few months, but it already felt like he belonged in this darkness.