Chapter 16

Emily

I had sent a message to Bi, asking her to tell Carlos to come back to town as soon as possible. Of course, Bete didn’t know this part—she already had enough problems to deal with. Our agreement was that I’d only find Carlos and arrange a meeting between them, and I’d be there to support her, whether the conversation went well or not.

“I hope he doesn’t take too long. If it’s a few more months, I won’t be able to hide the belly,” Bete said distractedly, sitting in the white rocking chair that was older than both of us.

Her belly had a slight curve, barely noticeable, especially with the loose clothes she was wearing now.

“I can’t wait to be an auntie. You and Fernando giving me nephews all at once.” It was overwhelming happiness, even knowing I’d hardly see her if she stayed here. I hoped she and Carlos could work things out.

“Come on, Emily, your turn to spill what got you out of bed so early. Why’d you run from home?” she asked bluntly, and I knew she wouldn’t let me dodge.

“Marcos showed up with the excuse of tending to Mom’s flowerbed, but then admitted he wanted to corner me since I’ve obviously been avoiding him.”

With all the talk about her pregnancy and getting Carlos, I’d managed to avoid thinking about the chaos my house had become.

“Oooooh,” she teased, finding amusement in my misery. “Yesterday, right after you left, he stormed into the kitchen like a hurricane, and guess who he was looking for?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “Yup, you. Apparently, he grilled Bi about you, and she accused him of making you run off.”

“I just needed peace. No one made me run yesterday,” I lied shamelessly.

“Hmm. Does that apply to today too?” she murmured, clearly not buying it. “Why not just talk to him and sort it out? At least you wouldn’t have to keep running from places.”

“It wasn’t because of him that I ran today,” I lied again. “My dad saw me kicking him out and took his side. Apparently, they’ve become inseparable buddies.”

“Marcos has been there for your family for a long time. Since your mom got sick and stopped going out, he’s always been looking after your dad,” she explained, softer than my dad’s shouting accusations earlier. “What the hell happened between you two back then, Emy?” That was the question no one but Fernando had dared to ask.

“It’s a long story. I don’t want to bore my nephew with this stuff,” I said, quickly changing the subject to avoid explaining. My memories had been haunting me since I got here, and that was enough. “Tell me, when are you scheduling a doctor’s appointment?” I steered the conversation, keeping her attention for a good while.

I left after two in the afternoon. Bete needed to rest for her night shift, and I had to face my dad. On the way home, I caught myself wondering how things would’ve been if everything had gone differently. If I hadn’t fled town, if Marcos hadn’t been a jerk, we might still be together, maybe as a couple, perhaps married or just living together. Everything would’ve been different.

But the best scenario would’ve been if we’d never gotten together, if I hadn’t been naive enough to think he loved me and we’d be happy. Maybe those things just weren’t meant for me.

I got home, and everything was quiet again. Marcos’ tools and pickup were gone. I sighed in relief and went inside, ready to collapse into bed. I looked for my dad but didn’t find him anywhere in the house.

Damn it, where could he have gone? I should’ve stayed home to stop him from leaving.

The kitchen was the same as last night—no dishes in the sink, the pots untouched in the fridge. He couldn’t have gone far since I had the car. Everyone in town knew him and knew I was back; I had to calm down—if something happened, I’d be notified.

With that thought, I headed to my room. My clothes were still stuffed in my suitcase. I’d refused to unpack, not wanting to seem like I’d stay longer than necessary, but my dad was determined to keep me here as long as he could.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the guest room floor, organizing my clothes in the small dresser. I hadn’t noticed the time passing when I heard the door slam and curses echoing up to where I was sprawled out.

“Dad?” I called, getting up and running to see him.

“You’re still here,” he said, his slurred voice and stumbling steps telling me exactly where he’d been all day.

I took a deep breath. It crushed me to face him in this state again, so I decided it was better to help him. He clearly needed a shower.

“Let me help you,” I said, approaching and grabbing his arm to steady him. “Come on, it won’t kill you to accept my help,” I muttered as he struggled, trying to pull away.

“Don’t touch me. I don’t want you touching me… If you want to do charity, go where they need it,” he grumbled, struggling to form a coherent sentence while making a colossal effort to stay upright.

“For God’s sake, you can’t even stand. You need help, Dad!” I growled, ready to drag him to the bathroom if necessary.

He turned when I grabbed his arm again, furious or maybe just drunk enough to do what he wanted. He swung his fist and hit my face, striking my nose dead-on. My head snapped back from the force, and I grabbed the wall to keep from falling. Pain spread, shooting through my face and making me cry.

“What the hell. I didn’t mean to… You need to go to the ER,” he said, lifting my face to stop the blood from running down my hand. I was still trying to process what had happened, my eyes squeezing shut as if it could ease the pain. “Here!” He shoved a dish towel at my nose, making me scream from the pain. “I can’t take you. Take the car—it’s not far, you’ll manage.” With that, he disappeared, slamming the door behind him.

Tears streamed uncontrollably as I realized he’d abandoned me after breaking my nose. The pain of being alone, coupled with the pain of a broken nose, filled my heart as I dragged myself to the car. What was happening to my life? How had my dad become this man?

I drove slowly to São Fernando’s only ER. It was nearly empty at this hour, as it usually was. The receptionist gasped, shouting when she saw my hands and the towel covered in blood. On top of that, I was walking like I’d broken my spine, though it was just my wounded pride making me move like I’d lost everything.

She called for emergency staff, and suddenly I was in a wheelchair, being taken for tests.

“Can you tell me what happened? Any other injuries?” I knew that doctor. Dr. Amaral had treated all my childhood scrapes and bruises—half the town’s, really.

“Good Lord, Emily!” Bianca burst into the room, shouting. What was she doing here? “I’ll help her,” she told another nurse, who left shortly after. Since when was she a nurse? “Who did this?”

“Calm down. She needs time,” Dr. Amaral warned, already tending to my nose.

After cleaning and resetting my nose, I was drained from crying and screaming. I felt awful, and worse was facing Bi’s pitying eyes, which reminded me so much of Marcos’.

“It was your dad, wasn’t it?” she asked with certainty once Dr. Amaral left us alone. “You’re coming home with me. You’re not going back there tonight.”

“I can’t, Bi…” I started to protest, just wanting to crawl into bed, take painkillers, and something to sleep.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll tell Marcos to leave the house. My shift’s over. Take your meds, and we can go.” she ordered, leaving no room for argument.

My little Bi had grown so much, and I wasn’t even here to see it.

I let her take me in her pickup to her house, completely forgetting any memories that might hit me there. I didn’t care when she put me in Marcos’ room and stayed until I fell asleep. I was numb from the shock.

My dad couldn’t take care of me right now, and that’s what Bi was doing—being my family. I silently thanked the heavens for not taking my friends out of my life as I drifted off to sleep.