Page 58 of Game of Revenge
“Shh, shh,” said Alejandro, a questioning look on his face, alarm in his eyes. I was crying, unable to stop the tears and the sobbing. I let Alejandro wrap me in his arms, caress my hair, and stroke my back.
“Mi niña, te ruego, no llores. The doctor said I am fine, I am feeling a lot better. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
I couldn't stop the tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered in a clouded voice.
We stood there for a few minutes as I enjoyed the comfort I did not realize I needed. The past days had been a roller coaster of emotions, seeing a man I cared for almost die to save me, and now that I was able to slow down, it was all hitting me in shock waves.
After a few minutes, my breathing got under control. Now all that was left was the embarrassment from breaking down like that in front of him. I slowly pushed Alejandro back and avoided eye contact at all costs. “I’ll go make coffee,” I declared, rushing out of the room.
Once I got in the kitchen, I ground some beans and set the coffeemaker. The smell was bringing some life into me as I prepared an omelet with chorizo, spinach, and onion, with a side of toast and a bowl of fruit. The meal preparation calmed my turbulent heart.
I carefully carried a very heavy tray up the stairs to Alejandro’s room. I set it down on the table on the balcony outside, thinking some sun and a breath of fresh air would help. Alejandro joined me. He leaned back in his chair, pensive.
“The irony of all this…you taking care of me.”
“What do you mean?”
Alejandro shook his head, seemingly unable to find his words. He took a sip of coffee. Confused, I sat across from him, grabbing my cup of coffee. Was I finally getting to him?
“You are not eating?”
“Just coffee for now,” I said.
Alejandro’s eyes flashed with frustration. He glanced at me, took one of the small plates, and put some of his eggs on it. “Stop being stubborn,” he said irritably. “Eat.”
I knew he was right. I hadn’t had a real meal since we left the hacienda. I had grabbed bites when I prepared his meals but hadn’t been able to consume any more. This time, I forced myself to eat, and halfway through, I could tell my appetite was slowly starting to come back.
“So, I’m going to get straight to the point,” started Alejandro, looking serious when we were done eating.
He hesitated, clearly conflicted about what to say and how to say it. I held my breath. From his expression, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. “Everything seems to indicate that the men who entered my house were sent for you, to harm you.”
“Why?” I asked, shocked and incredulous. “Why me? Why would someone try to kill me at a kidnapper’s house?”
I realized how it sounded, but it was too late. Alejandro clenched his teeth, shook his head, and got up, frustrated. He started pacing.
He stopped behind the chair he had been sitting on, his fists squeezing around the top, jaw tight.
“I was really hoping to keep you sheltered from all of this,” he started to explain.
“No,” I protested, getting up, angry and shaking. “Not anymore. Too much has happened for you to continue to keep me in the dark.”
I needed the truth, desperately, whatever it may be. I needed him to rip off the Band-Aid I didn’t have the courage to remove. Let me see the truth, for however horrible. Maybe then I could reason with myself, stop these feelings that threatened to consume me on a daily basis.
Alejandro sighed, looking away.
“I know,” he confessed, “but the more you know, the harder it is for me to protect you.”
“It would seem like that strategy backfired,” I retorted.
Alejandro looked like I had just shot him, but he shook his head, admitting there was no other option. He inhaled deeply and exhaled.
“I think…I think it was Richard.”
The information hit me like a rock. I felt my knees weaken, and I leaned onto the chair for support. Alejandro took a step in my direction, but I lifted my hand, telling him to keep his distance.
“I’m fine.” I swallowed hard. “Why would Richard try to hurt me?” My voice was slightly shaking.