Page 50 of Wasted On Us
“I’ll try.” I feel so guilty over all of this that I’d give her one of my own kidneys if she asked me to.
“Be brave for me.” The look in her eyes is so kind that I worry I might faint and the paramedics will have to take me, too. “Mateo needs you. You mean the world to my grandson. And that means the world to me.”
Right at that moment as they’re loading the stretcher onto the back of the ambulance, Mateo comes out of the door behind me. He hands me a small grocery bag with my shirt and bra neatly folded inside and takes my hand in his.
“I need to go with her.” He looks at Abuelita, frowning, then back at me. “I’m sorry.”
“Of course, you do.” I gently place my hand along the side of his jaw, and he leans into the feeling. “And you have nothing to be sorry about.”
He looks soothed by my touch, until something behind me catches his eye, and he tenses, nodding toward it with a scowl. Turning to face the source of his annoyance, I see my parents standing in the driveway, staring in our direction. My dad looks so angry he might combust on the spot. I wonder if I shouldn’t just start walking down the street in the other direction and hitchhike my way to a different life.
Mateo leans in toward me, kissing me on the cheek before resting his forehead against mine. “You could come with me.”
I shake my head, tears starting to fall down my face. I’m going to have to face the consequences of my actions sooner or later. Might as well bite the bullet and get it all out of the way in one night.
“You go with Abuelita. I have to deal with this. Letting it fester will only make it worse.”
Then, it’s my turn to nod behind him. I watch as Mateo turns and his entire body language shifts, his shoulders slumping like a scolded child. Salvador glares at him before striding past to the ambulance, knocking on the door, and speaking angrily to one of the paramedics.
“I’m riding with her,” he barks. “This is my mother.”
He climbs in without a second glance at Mateo or offering him a ride to the hospital as well. I can tell that the gesture hurts Mateo just as much as his father intended it to. My man stands there, looking utterly defeated as he watches the flashing lights drive away without him.
“I’ll call you later,” he promises, before dashing off to his own car and peeling away.
I watch as he drives toward the flashing lights of the ambulance, trying to find the courage to walk the few yards over to my own impending doom. Calmly and collectedly, I walk up my own driveway, passing my parents on my way into the house. Whatever my father has in store for me, I’d rather it happen inside our four walls than out in the middle of the street for the whole neighborhood to spectate. I don’t know the HOA’s stance on family blow-outs, but I can’t imagine it’s something they look upon fondly.
I use the last of my nerve to take a seat at the kitchen table and wait for the explosion to happen once my parents are inside and have closed the door. My mother heads right to the fridge, pouring herself a glass of white wine and refusing to make eye contact with me. Dad places a hand on the back of the chair opposite mine, considering sitting down with me, but then thinks better of it, instead pacing around the room in a jerky loop.
“Why, Eden?” he announces the question, bowling over me with a barrage of follow-ups the second I try to form an answer. “Why him? Why them? You brought that… that… enemy into my home! And you’ve been lying to me. To your family.”
His face contorts in disgust, and it’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen him display. He’s usually so stoic, as difficult to read as a cliff face, and just as friendly. “Where’s the respect? You’re living under my roof! What did I ever do to cause you to hate me so much that you would do this to me?”
Dad’s voice breaks on the word hate, cracking enough to make me feel like I’ve literally stabbed him in the back and still haven’t taken out the knife.
“This isn’t about you, Dad! And I don’t hate you.” I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. It’s infuriating how two grown men just won’t see reason and move on with their lives. “I just don’t understand why your feud with his father has to keep me and Mateo apart.”
“Since when did you even want a boyfriend? Five years. Nothing.” He stops pacing across from me, running his hands through his hair. “Then the one guy I would never want you to date… that guy you get serious enough about that you’re sneaking around and lying? Doing God knows what inside Mrs. Lambert’s empty house, for Christ’s sake? Did you even have permission to be in there?”
I’m already ashamed enough about using Mrs. Lambert like this. He doesn’t need to rub salt in the wound. I look to Mom for some kind of assistance, but she just glares at me over the top of her wine glass.
“Yes, we did. And I’ll have you know that if you and Salvador weren’t being so stubborn, we would have had no reason to be in there at all!”
Of course, he ignores the part he played in this whole mess. “What happened to the beautiful, smart, capable young lady that I raised? I can’t even look at you right now.”
Turning on his heel, he storms out of the kitchen, and to my dismay, Mom follows right behind him without a single word. The disappointment in their faces cuts me to the bone. I’ve never felt so low and miserable in my life, and the one person I want to turn to is the one person I might have to cut out of my life for good.
I wait until I hear their bedroom door close before shuffling off to my room, taking a hefty glass of my mom’s wine with me for good measure. Kicking my shoes off, I collapse onto the bed, staring up at my ceiling and trying not to cry. I roll over and check my phone for the first time in hours, only to find a missed call from Ensley, who I know means well but I can’t bear to talk to right now.
And as much as I want to be there for Mateo, I can’t help but feel it’s the wrong move. I need to let him handle his family drama while I handle mine, at least for tonight. I need time to think. I’ve been so caught up in the whirlwind of our feelings for each other and the rush of the risk of getting caught that I didn’t anticipate justhowmuch pain we could cause everyone else. I have to decide if things are worth it or not, and I can’t do that while he’s around. It’s too hard when I’m looking him in the face.
Tonight feels like a fork in the road, and I’m not sure what path to choose. I’ve been unlucky in love before—why should I let myself believe that this could be any different? What if I risk everything to be with Mateo and lose everything but him and then it all goes sideways anyway? Then I’d be left with absolutely nothing. Maybe the universe is trying to show me something. Maybe I’m supposed to be alone after all.
With every cell in my body screaming at me, I drag myself over to my closet and grab some sweats. I realize as I’m changing that his shirt that I’m wearing still smells like him, and against my better judgment, I place it on the pillow next to me, snuggling up against it as I fall asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mateo