Chapter 21

Emily

“They won’t give up until things seem sorted between us,” Marcos began, trying to start a conversation. I ignored his voice, or at least tried to, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would make him disappear. “I know you don’t want to talk, and I get it, I really do, but if you could at least listen.”

I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my skin, then took a deep breath and finally looked at him. His clear, expressive eyes made me want to cry and demand why he’d deceived me, but all I did was hold his gaze.

“I remember the last time I saw you before our fight. That night, I dropped you off at home after we left the cabin. When I got to my place, my nightmare began.” He interlaced his fingers and stared at them, his usual reaction when he felt uneasy, but this Marcos in front of me was a different person. “I caught my dad grabbing Bianca. He was too drunk to know what he was doing, calling her by my mom’s name while she was on the floor, and he tried to tear her clothes off.” My stomach sank, and I was in shock. What the hell had happened to Bianca? “She’d already fought him hard and kept fighting, but I was the only one who could pull that bastard off her.”

“She never told me,” I whispered, my eyes practically jumping to him.

The answer was obvious—I’d run away, and even though we started talking again later, we never touched on the past.

“He didn’t manage to do anything because, thank God, I got there in time. She’s deeply ashamed of it all, which is probably why she never told you,” he explained, then continued his story. “That’s when I realized—if I’d arrived a few minutes later, I’d never forgive myself for what could’ve happened.” I understood completely; I wouldn’t have forgiven myself either if something had happened to her. “I couldn’t be divided, and I couldn’t drag you into our mess. That’s when I came up with the plan with Bruno.”

My memories raced back to that day. I saw Bruno and Marcos behind the diner, talking about me. It felt so vivid, not just a memory.

“You knew I was there, hearing everything?” I questioned, even though everything in me wanted to scream that he was lying. “And you said all those awful things to my face as a lie?”

“Of course! That was the plan. We’d wait until you were close, and I’d say horrible things about you.” He finally looked at me, his tear-filled eyes making mine spill over. “Breaking your heart was the only way to make you forget me and stay away. I just didn’t expect you to storm in and confront me like that. It ended up being worse than I planned.”

“You didn’t… How could you… You couldn’t do that! It was my choice!” I shouted, desperate at the thought that my life had been hell for years because of his blind need to protect me.

“I had to! You had a bright future ahead. I couldn’t let you be tied to me, and Bianca needed me by her side.” He stood, trying to reach me as he spoke, and my anger overflowed.

How could all this have happened and ruined lives like this?

“So you chose for me and gave me an empty life? Is that it, Marcos?” I yelled, throwing my arms out to keep him at a distance. I wanted to scream until he understood that all my pain was because of his stupidity in making decisions for me. “You disappeared, fled the town!” I stated, waiting for him to explain why he never came back.

“I had to put him in a clinic and stay with Bianca at our mom’s house.” His voice was calmer, as if he knew I was about to throw things at him and would accept it calmly. “I knew if I kept my old number, I’d get news about you, and if I heard you were suffering, I’d run back to you.”

“You made me suffer more than you can imagine,” I jabbed my finger into his chest as tears poured out like I’d never cried before.

“I tried to find you,” he said, taking my pointing hand. “My dad didn’t last long in the hospital and took his own life.” His voice was so low I almost didn’t hear it, but when I understood, I swallowed hard, imagining how awful it must’ve been. “Bi was devastated, but two years later, she started nursing school and perked up. That’s when we came back to São Fernando for good. I went to your mom to ask about you.”

“She never…”

“I asked her not to tell you. I found out you were doing well and had a boyfriend. Since years had passed, I figured you’d moved on, so I didn’t want to disrupt your life.”

My relationship hadn’t even lasted five months. Knowing my mom didn’t tell me, or him that I was single, made me realize how much she’d protected us. She knew I wasn’t ready to relive it all, even now I didn’t feel ready.

Even after everything he’d done, I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. Dad was right to hate me after all.

“You stayed by her side? My dad told me, and you’ve been helping him with everything,” I stated the obvious, knowing nothing I did could change the fact that he’d fixed things and returned to the people who loved him, unlike me.

I was the one who should feel ashamed. I’d drowned in my pain and shut everyone else out.

“She knew you were hurting. She understood, Emy,” Marcos murmured, as if to reassure me. “And your dad’s still hurting. It’s not easy to lose the love of your life.” My sobs escaped before I could stop them, and he pulled me into his arms, holding and comforting me.

I couldn’t believe it was always true—all these years fighting to believe it was just a fling for him, and now he showed me he did it all for my sake.

My world was collapsing. The walls seemed to be crumbling, and I felt lost in a hurricane. My feelings were a mess. I hadn’t felt this way in five years, with nothing to hold onto or lean on.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. But I want you to know I’ll be here whenever you need me, whether you just want to talk or clear things up,” he said against my hair, as if reading my thoughts. I pulled back to look at his face; his eyes were the only thing I could trust now. “I’ve spent five years with all these words locked inside.” His hand touched my face, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me.

Then we pulled apart, as if we’d shocked each other.

“Thank you for telling me. It’s important to know the truth, even if I didn’t want to hear it,” I said, wiping away tears that now felt as pathetic as I did. “And thank you for taking care of my parents when I wasn’t here.” He had a piece of their lives I’d never have. “I need to go now!” I said, heading for the door, ready to bang on it until it opened.

Marcos stepped forward, pulled a set of keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door with one. His apologetic smile didn’t help much after I realized he could’ve let me go anytime but chose to keep me there, desperate to tell the truth.

I didn’t know how things would be between us. I couldn’t hate him for saying those things if his goal was to push me away to care for Bianca, and I couldn’t blame him for what happened after since he didn’t know—and, again, he was looking out for my friend.

All we had left was tolerance or friendship—the only things we could have after everything.

As the door opened, I saw our friends standing there, staring at us like we were strange animals that might attack.

“I’m leaving,” I announced, saying goodbye. “I’m not going to jump you guys. God, relax,” I teased, smiling, then hugged Bete and Carlos, rubbing her little belly, barely a bump, and hugged Bianca tightly.

She’d been so alone, fighting her pain, and I hadn’t realized how strong she was. My little Bi had been through hell and still remained sweet and loving.

I left alone in a hurry, not needing anyone asking questions. I needed space to think, to let my thoughts out, to sort my head before I lost it.

But I couldn’t do that at home either, so I stopped in the parking lot of Rosa’s diner and found myself heading to the last table.

“What’ll it be today?” Sara came to my table the moment my butt hit the chair. “God, I’ve got a cream for that,” she said, pulling a tube of ointment from her apron pocket.

By now, my tears had ruined my attempt to cover the bruise on my face. Her noticing didn’t bother me—what did was that she carried bruise cream around.

I stared at her face, looking for any marks, but the one from days ago was gone.

“You need to get away from him,” I found myself muttering before I could think.

“I thought big-city folks minded their own business,” Sara said with a dry laugh, clearly joking. “Life’s got its crap, Emily. You fight, or you give up. I’m fighting. What about you?” Her question hung in the air as she scribbled something on her notepad. “Chocolate pancakes and a hot coffee.” It wasn’t a question—she clearly knew what I used to eat with Marcos on Sunday mornings.

I’d grown up these past years, studying and working like crazy to escape my pain, managing investments for a good company. Now that I’d taken time off to care for my dad, all the pain and confusion had caught up with me, with interest.

Sara was right. I wasn’t fighting—I was running. All these years, hiding from everything that once meant something to me, I’d distanced myself from everyone in my life and probably wouldn’t stop until I was old, lying in bed, choking on my regrets.

I was getting a second chance to do right by my parents, my friends, my life. All I had to do was fight.