Chapter 14

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. All this nonsense about him—you don’t even know him!” I exploded, but I wasn’t going to stand there trying to explain myself. I couldn’t believe my own dad had no empathy for my pain. I stormed off, ready to let the lunatics have their love fest. “If you weren’t drunk twenty-four hours a day, we could have a decent conversation, and everything would be clear!”

I rushed past him, furious, not stopping until I reached the key rack in the living room. I grabbed the car keys, started the engine, and peeled out, tires screeching, as if I were fleeing the devil himself—and that’s what Marcos felt like to me.

He’d crept into my life quietly, charmed me, made me fall head over heels, and then ripped everything away, leaving me broken on the ground without a single word. He’d destroyed my entire life and now acted like nothing had happened.

I didn’t know exactly where to go; I just needed distance from him, from that house, from everyone.

I drove around for a while, trying to regain control. The town was waking up on a Saturday morning—kids in the park, crowded diners, bustling squares, and shops starting to fill up. Everything I didn’t want right now.

Before I left the town center and headed toward the ranches, I remembered Nora’s house, Bete’s grandmother’s place. I drove there, knowing she’d be grumpy about being woken up this early, but I needed somewhere to stay until I could sort out my thoughts.

I got out of the car and crossed the gravel path, spotting the large house with peeling paint but still imposing.

My horn blared, louder in the silence surrounding the house, and regret hit me instantly. I felt ridiculous for running here for comfort, whining to someone with as many problems as me, but Bete didn’t let me feel that for long. She appeared on the porch with a mug in hand.

“When I said I was here, it wasn’t an invitation for morning visits,” she said, pulling me out of my bubble and making me smile, calming me down.

“Sorry, I just needed an escape,” I explained as I climbed the porch steps, hoping I wouldn’t break down in tears right there.

“I’m kidding. I’ve been up for a while,” she said, which was a true miracle. “Guess it’s the problems keeping us awake.”

My shocked expression gave me away, and she burst out laughing. Bete waking up early was indeed a shock.

“Don’t even talk to me about problems. I swear I’m this close to losing it,” I said, hugging her, letting the comfort of her arms pull me back from the edge of madness.

The house was warm and cozy. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Bete or because I didn’t feel welcome in my own home—or both.

She dragged me straight to the kitchen, where the pots were already in full swing.

Who was she, and what had she done with my friend? Those were the questions I wanted to ask, but as soon as the smell of burnt eggs hit us, Bete bolted to the bathroom like her life depended on it.

What was wrong with her?

I turned off the stove to avoid setting the house on fire at this hour and followed her.

Her blonde hair was draped over the toilet as she threw up whatever she’d just eaten. I held my breath to avoid gagging at the sight and focused on holding her hair back.

We didn’t say a word, not even when she recovered and washed her face before we returned to the kitchen. I knew it wouldn’t take long for her to open up and tell me everything.

“Okay, go ahead and ask,” she muttered as I went to the stove to clean up the mess.

“Still want eggs?” The grimace she made, lips twisting and eyes closing, gave me my answer. “How far along are you?” She gasped when she realized I’d figured it out. I watched my friend open the fridge, looking embarrassed, grabbing cream cheese and toast before sitting back at the counter. She looked like a kid caught sneaking out, avoiding her mom’s gaze. “Hey, you don’t have to feel like that. No one’s judging you here. For God’s sake, Bete, I just want what’s best for you,” I said, going to hug her, kissing her hair as she relaxed in my arms.

“Almost three months. You’re the only one who knows. Promise you won’t tell anyone?” I crossed my fingers over my lips, swearing.

“And the father?” She was finally divorced from that deadbeat husband, but a kid on the way would complicate things.

“Carlos.” The name shocked me, and I leaned in, ready for the story I knew was coming. “We hooked up as soon as I got back to town, and then he disappeared. You know how it is between us—we just can’t hold back!” she explained, sighing and slipping back into embarrassment. “I was still looking for a job, and a week later, they gave me the gig at the club.”

“Okay, too much information. I didn’t know you’d hooked up with the cowboy again. And what does the club have to do with Carlos?”

I didn’t see the connection, and the fact that he’d vanished made me want to punch his face until he was on his knees begging for her forgiveness.

“He’s the owner now.” Today was definitely the day for shocks. I pulled up a stool and sat down before I collapsed from all the surprises. “He and Marcos bought the club about two years ago, give or take.” She swallowed hard, and I pushed my issues with Marcos aside to focus on someone who needed me right now. “He definitely pulled strings to get me the job. I mean, I have no experience, no degree, nothing on my resume. Now I don’t want him thinking I’m pregnant to get something more out of him, especially since he’s doing so well. It’s bad enough he thinks he owed me a job after sleeping with me.”

Now I understood her sudden embarrassment. My friend, who never let anything shake her, was at the most vulnerable moment in a woman’s life and didn’t know how to keep her cowboy from seeing her in a bad light.

If I didn’t know her, I’d tell her to run him over like a tractor, which she’d definitely do.

But despite appearances, I knew how madly those two loved each other. The chances of Carlos thinking anything bad about Bete were almost nonexistent. He’d been completely smitten with her forever and probably only got her that job to look out for her. As for disappearing, I’d have to clear that up with him.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” I started, holding her hands. “You’re going to tell him. He needs to know. If he thinks anything other than the truth after finding out, I’ll break his face in half, and then you both come with me to São Paulo, and we’ll raise this baby together.” Her beautiful green eyes filled with tears, cracking my armor.

“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me,” she said, but I knew exactly how much that support meant. “I’m so happy you’re back. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

Of course I did. I missed her just as much. I’d lost five years of my friends’ lives—the two who grew up with me and stood by me every step of the way. It seemed like such a short time, but so much had happened to all three of us that even many afternoons of talking couldn’t catch us up on everything.