Page 11 of Love Unwritten

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Page 11 of Love Unwritten

“Some of us prefer not to waste our time on meaningless relationships.”

Rather than becoming further enraged by my comment, Ellie looks at me in the same way I’ve seen far too many times around town.

Pity.

“I feel bad for people like you,” she says, stunning me into silence. “You work double-time to keep everyone at a distance because one person gave you a reason to.”

More like three people—two of whom brought me into this world.

I don’t say that, though.

I don’t say anything.

It’s easier to keep my feelings at bay when I don’t acknowledge them. Call it cowardliness or repression, but I prefer the term survival. Because to think is to feel, and I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to control myself once I start.

My toxic trait isn’t the fact that I don’t have feelings; it’s that I feel too much, all at once, so I suppress it instead of learning how to cope. I’ve always been that way, long before my mother packed her bags and left my father and me.

Ellie shakes her head. “Whatever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get some rest.” She scurries around me, the scent of her fruity body wash lingering in the air long after she is gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rafael

My workday is a busy one after the real estate search engine app I own and run, Dwelling, has a glitch and an investor causes some trouble, so I don’t get the chance to see Nico yet. By the time I wrap up for the night and exit my home office, he is already tucked into bed, and Ellie is nowhere near his room.

I linger outside his door while Ellie’s words from yesterday come back to haunt me.

If you have some time to spare, it wouldn’t hurt to practice with him too.

Before I have a chance to back down from the idea, I knock on Nico’s bedroom door.

“Ellie?”

With a tight ball in my throat, I turn the knob. “No. Soy yo.”

Nico’s smile dies. “Hola, Papi.”

Soy yo: It’s me.

Hola, Papi: Hi, Dad.

Pain hits me square in the chest at the sign of his disappointment, but I ignore it as I take a hesitant step inside. “Vine a decirte buenas noches.”

He tugs his comforter up to his chin. “Buenas noches.”

I take a seat on the edge of his bed, feeling more like a stranger than his father at the moment. “Do you want to read a story together before I head out to see Uncle Julian?”

“No,” Nico says with a rush.

The sharp sting of rejection doesn’t deter me from trying again. “Ellie told me it would be nice for me to practice my braille.”

A look of sheer panic flashes across his face. “Why?”

“Because I’m not very good?”

He releases a long breath. “Oh.”

I chalk his unusual reaction up to him being anxious about spending time around me.




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