Chapter 9

Emily

I walked into the house, trying to stay calm. Things wouldn’t resolve overnight. Dad wasn’t going to stop hating me and suddenly trust me again. I needed to earn it all back.

If I had returned to the city and stayed with Mom when she got sick, none of this would be happening. At least she understood why I needed to stay away and forgave me. I just couldn’t understand why Dad couldn’t do the same.

The house was dark, curtains still closed, and the smell of alcohol lingered in the air.

“That’s it!” I said determinedly. I was going to do a thorough cleaning and let some light into those walls. It would keep me busy and show the old man I wasn’t giving up or leaving anytime soon.

I stared at that couch, illuminated by my memories and the sunlight finally streaming through the windows. If I could forget all those memories, erase them as easily as closing the curtains, everything would be so different.

I started by opening the curtains and windows. Fresh air needed to fill that room. As soon as I turned on the stereo, I realized I’d need to dust all the furniture, but to my surprise and confusion, only the living room shelf with family photos had accumulated dust.

Still, I kept going, grabbing a cloth and wiping down each shelf. It was truly an ocean of memories. Every year, every graduation, every birthday party—it was all documented there. The most recent photos were from Fe and Helen’s wedding, the last time before Mom got really sick. After that, everything in our family went downhill.

I grabbed buckets of water and cloths to clean the floor, but only after removing that disgusting rug from the living room, of course. As I dragged the heavy rug, the beat of the music caught my attention. It’s not the same song, it can’t be!

Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed

It got washed away in a summer rain

You can’t undo a fall like this

’Cause love don’t know what distance is

The damn lyrics I’d tried so hard to forget filled my ears, and I froze. That song was blaring loud and clear from the old stereo.

I wanna be scared, don’t wanna know why

I wanna feel good, don’t have to be right

The world makes all kinds of rules for love

I say you gotta let it do what it does

All the memories I’d tried so hard to keep locked away deep inside came rushing back. Our first kiss after the party, the first time I confessed I was in love, the first time he told me how he felt, all our talks at the lake house… our first time and every time after that.

Involuntarily, I was crying and hating myself for shedding even a single tear for that bastard who broke my heart!

I tried to drag the heavy rug again with all the anger I felt and tripped, falling onto the couch. The same couch where we’d been together the first time. That room, everything there reminded me of him. Who was I kidding? Everything in this city would always remind me of that jerk!

I got up and stared at the couch. Why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn’t we have made our lives easier by stopping when it all began? I had to end this. Marcos had been dead to me for five years, ever since he left me alone!

In a desperate act, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife on the table, and rushed back to the living room, standing in front of the couch. It wasn’t Marcos, but I didn’t care as I stabbed the knife into the fabric. Once, twice, three times. The more I tore into the couch, the more exposed I felt.

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! WHY? WHY?” I screamed, sounding incoherent even to myself, and kept stabbing the couch.

The sobs that came only made me angrier, and even though I knew I had no right to destroy my parents’ couch, I did it, as if I needed it to regain control.

I dropped to my knees on the floor, resting my head on the tattered couch while forcing myself to stop crying.

“Hey, hey!” Bianca’s voice cut through the music, my screams, and my sobs. “Come here.” I didn’t know how long she’d been there, but she was already by my side, pulling me into her lap. “It’s going to be okay, shh,” she murmured repeatedly, hugging me tightly until my sobs calmed.

I had really lost it. I didn’t understand how Dad hadn’t heard anything, none of my screams. He was probably passed out in his room, too drunk to wake up to any noise.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” I started, getting up from the floor.

If my brother saw me now, he’d have a full-on meltdown like the other times.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know what that couch did to you, but it definitely deserved it,” she said, making me smile. As always, she knew how to make anyone feel better.

“Thanks for… helping me.”

“No problem. Now give me that,” she ordered, taking the knife I’d forgotten was still in my hand. “And go take a shower. You need to get out of this house.” I really did, but I wasn’t sure if anywhere nearby would do me any good. “Come on, missy!”

Reluctantly, I went upstairs and took a shower, trusting that if anything bothered me, Bi would notice faster than anyone and get me out of there. It was honestly uncomfortable to rely so heavily on a friend I hadn’t seen in person in years. She surely had her own problems to deal with, yet here she was, taking care of me.

Even if it wasn’t fair, I’d accept any help to stay sane while I had to be in São Fernando.

“You’re going to love what they did with the club. The new owners really made it fit the town’s vibe,” Bi said excitedly the whole way there.

The club had been around since I was a kid, located near the ranches, but it was always so pretentious that most people in town preferred going to local bars to hear good live music or sing karaoke with friends.

The place had completely changed. Gone were the fancy walls and neon lights everywhere. Now it had a rustic decor, tables scattered across the room, a huge stage in the left corner, and small lights on the ceiling, mimicking a starry sky.

“Isn’t this place a bit crowded?” I hadn’t imagined those small changes would attract so many people.

“I told you this place got way better!” Bi shouted over the sound of the duo enthusiastically singing country music. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” She dragged me to a table tucked away in the crowd. Three people were already there, and I instantly recognized her boyfriend. His brown eyes and hair were just like in the photos. “Emily, this is Joshua, my boyfriend.”

“Great to finally meet you,” he said, extending his hand. You couldn’t deny his soldier-like build and seriousness.

“Nice to meet you too, famous Joshua. You’d better keep taking good care of my friend,” I said, sitting with them.

“So, how long are you planning to stay in town, Emy?” he asked, already wrapping an arm around her.

That was the question everyone asked, and the one I didn’t have an answer for.

“As little as possible, but things aren’t going as planned. You might have to put up with me for a while, soldier,” I said loudly over the music, sounding calmer about it than I actually was.

“I’m glad to hear that. People around here seem to like you a lot. Marcos and his friends spent almost the whole night talking about you.” Bi elbowed him, and he shut up immediately, though I wasn’t entirely sure why.

Knowing that jerk was talking about me wasn’t comforting at all, especially knowing he was here.

They were probably wondering why I’d come back, but I’d rather avoid all the gossip.

“Come on, Emy, let’s dance,” Bianca ordered, already pulling me, but I shook my head firmly and let her drag Joshua instead.

I knew they had little time before he’d be called back to duty in the States.

Since they met, it’s been this crazy marathon to make their relationship work, her here and him there. But whenever he wasn’t on duty, he’d fly straight into my friend’s arms. I wasn’t about to ruin their rare moments together.

I watched them dance, wrapped in each other’s arms, smiling, happy. That’s how it should be—uncomplicated, peaceful, and joyful. The complete opposite of what I had.

While watching the dance floor, I noticed Carla had joined them, but she wasn’t with Marcos—she was with Bruno, one of the old friends.

I caught myself scanning the place for him. He might not be jealous of his friends, but he’d definitely want to be dancing. He never missed a chance to show off.

Upstairs, overlooking the dance floor, I found him, wearing a blue checkered shirt, watching the crowd.

I could say he hadn’t changed much, even though I hadn’t gotten a good look at him the other day at the market. But those eyes that stared at me that day still had the same spark as always.

A child ran up and grabbed his legs from behind. He didn’t seem surprised, just turned around with a huge smile, picked up the little boy, who was laughing as he was hoisted onto Marcos’ shoulders and spun around.

That boy had to be his son, no older than five. The resemblance was obvious.

I couldn’t believe this was really happening! Marcos had a son and was living his full, happy life!