Chapter 9 Rafael

Rafael stole another glance at Andrew through the rearview mirror, the image of his date's surprised and slightly hurt expression burning itself into his memory. Regret, sharp and unwelcome, tightened its grip on his chest. Their first date, filled with effortless conversation and laughter that had left Rafael breathless, had been ripped away all too soon. Gabriella's frantic call, her voice thick with tears, had shattered the nascent connection he'd felt blooming with Andrew.

As he'd driven through the streets back in Foggy Basin, the familiar route had felt foreign and isolating. Now driving the last block, guilt gnawed at him. He longed for Andrew's company, the easy way their conversation had flowed, the way Andrew's smile had made his heart skip a beat. Yet, his responsibility for Gabriella, a responsibility he'd shouldered since childhood, pressed down onto him. He could still hear the tremor in her voice as she recounted the explosive fight with their parents. He imagined the tear tracks staining her cheeks.

Pulling into the driveway, he shut off the engine and sat for a moment, the stillness of the house a stark contrast to the chaos within him. He let out a defeated sigh; the sound penetrating the silence. Helping Gabriella had always been his default setting, his role as her protector etched into the fabric of their lives. But tonight, the cost felt high. He yearned for a life where his loyalty wasn't constantly on a hair trigger, where he could explore this exciting possibility with Andrew without the shadow of his obligations looming over him. That life seemed frustratingly out of reach, a distant dream obscured by the fog of others' immediate needs.

As he climbed out of the Jeep, a tightened in his gut. He braced himself for the emotional storm brewing inside, all the while desperately clinging to the offer he and Andrew had discussed, a solution, a way to have it all. He entered the house, the scent of burned popcorn and stale coffee greeting him. In the living room, Gabriella sat huddled on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of ice cream melting beside her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her face a mask of hurt and defiance.

"Hey," Rafael said softly, approaching her. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, concern written on his face. "What happened?"

Gabriella looked up, her lower lip trembling. "They wouldn't budge. Dad called it childish, said I was throwing away my future for some greasy spoon diner job and then they both went on a rant about the Stars."

Rafael reached out and squeezed her hand gently. "Hey, it's okay. If you want to quit, you can. Andrew just wanted to help you."

Gabriella scoffed. "But I don't want to! It's a chance to be independent, to have my own money. I'm not a little kid anymore, Rafe."

Rafael understood. He knew the stifling feeling of being under their parents' thumb, their constant disapproval weighing on their lives. "I know, Gabbi. I get it. Listen," he said, taking a deep breath. "How about you stay here for a while? Until you figure things out?"

Gabriella's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You mean it?"

Rafael smiled. "Of course. This is your home, too. You know that, right?"

Tears welled up in Gabriella's eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Thanks, Rafe. You're the best brother ever."

Rafael held her close, the heaviness of his decision settling on him. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but seeing the gratitude and hope on Gabriella's face firmed his resolve. He would find a way to see Andrew. He had to.

"I'm going to pick up your things now. You stay put and watch a movie."

He left the house and told her not to open the door to anyone while he wasn't home. He dreaded the chore of gathering Gabriella's things and the confrontation with his parents. The odds of this going smoothly were zero. It was bound to be a disaster.

Rafael clutched the steering wheel, knuckles white, as his stomach churned. He stopped at the moving store for boxes and loaded them into the back of his Jeep. He drove straight from the store to his parents' house, his uneasiness growing with every passing mile. Gabriella needed him, and he wouldn't abandon her, not even for his parents' acceptance. However, he was aware of the severe consequences his parents would impose on him as payback for taking her away from them.

Stopping a moment to inhale deeply, he pushed open the back door and entered the familiar kitchen with his load of boxes. The smell of his mother's freshly baked bread, usually a comfort, did little to ease the turmoil within him. As he entered, his father sat at the table, his wine glass half-empty beside a bottle of wine. His mother turned from kneading bread and hugged him.

"Hey," he said. "Can we talk?"

His parents exchanged a look, a silent conversation that sent a jolt of unease through him. His father set the paper down with a sigh. "What is it, Rafael?"

Rafael braced himself. "I think it's best if Gabriella moves in with me for a while."

The silence that followed left him with a temporary uncertainty. His mother's hands stilled in the dough, flour dusting her apron like a shroud. His father's gaze turned stone cold.

"It's what?" His father's voice was a low growl.

There was no middle ground with his parents for their traditions, beliefs, and opinions. They were unwilling to budge from their old-fashioned ways; it was their way or nothing. The toll taken by the fight between his parents and sister was clear on their exhausted faces. She was their princess who was moving out. Leaving their parents' home was prohibited for girls until they got married. It was just another outdated perspective that didn't align with the modern world.

"Just until she gets on her feet," Rafael clarified, his gaze wavering between them. "You know, with everything that's happened…"

His mother's voice, when she spoke, was laced with ice. "We are her parents, Rafael. And if you think moving her in with you, a single man, is what's best for her, you're sorely mistaken."

Rafael shot back at his mother, his voice rising in frustration. "It's about what's right for Gabriella."

"And what about what's right for us?" His father slammed his fist on the table, rattling the wine glass. "Do you have any idea what this will do to our reputation?"

Anger burned in Rafael's throat, acrid and bitter. "Since when did your reputation matter more than your own daughter?"

His mother's voice cut through the tension. "We will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in our home, Rafael. If you move that girl in, you are no longer welcome here. And neither is she."

"She's your daughter, not ‘that girl'. I can't believe you refuse to allow her to grow up. You're both selfish."

The ultimatum hung in the air, suffocating. Rafael stared at them, his parents' faces suddenly foreign, filled with disappointment and disapproval. Their rejection hit him like a tidal wave, causing a nauseous feeling to overcome him.

"We don't want either of you around us. You and your sister are dead to us." His father's gaze hardened as he finished. "Not if she's there and working at the diner with those thieves."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The rejection, sharp and final, pierced Rafael's heart. He fought back his anger, the hurt threatening to spill over. "This is about Gabriella," he choked out. "She's my sister, and she needs me."

His parents' faces remained expressionless. The air hung thick with unspoken words, a chasm suddenly yawning between them. There was nothing more to say. Defeat washed over Rafael, a frosty wave extinguishing the last hope of uniting them as a family again.

With a weary heart, he turned and carried the boxes upstairs. Gabriella's bedroom door was ajar. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla shampoo made its way to his nose. Stepping inside, he felt sorry for his sister. This wasn't her fault, yet here they were, both adrift in the wreckage caused by their parents' disapproval.

Rafael shoved the emotions down, practicality taking over. He packed her favorite books, the framed pictures that adorned her nightstand and, one by one, he folded Gabriella's clothes, their familiar textures a grounding force. Her favorite stuffed animals were carefully placed in a separate box. He wrapped her laptop with two towels to cushion it and tucked it into a smaller box. Each item he packed held a story, a memory, and a piece of his sister's life he was determined to protect.

Once he'd packed everything, he made multiple trips to his Jeep, catching glimpses of his parents sharing the bottle of wine. He was curious about the amount they had already consumed. No one needed a drunken father who would become physically and emotionally abusive. His father never physically touched Gabriella, but Rafael was a different story. To avoid any physical altercation with his father, he raced back and forth to escape in one piece.