Chapter 24

We had been in this house for well over ten days now. The doctor had stopped insisting that he take the sleeping pills a couple of days ago, in part because he had thrown the rest of them at the wall, threatening to leave and go "wherever the hell he wanted" if he had to stay in this "fucking bed" any longer.

Alejandro had, for the most part, stayed in bed, and I acknowledged that he seemed almost fully recovered. The wound was healing well and quickly, and there had been no further bleeding or fever.

For most of the week, Alejandro had tried to have serious conversations with me. He wanted to discuss what had happened in his house. I had been avoiding them like the plague. All I wanted was for him to heal and get better. I didn't care about anything else—not Karina, not Elena, not my kidnapping. I feared that if we talked, everything would change.

Eventually, we got into a comfortable routine––when Alejandro wasn't drugged out––where we would talk about our passions. He even continued teaching me how to play chess. We were stuck in an amazing lull where nothing else mattered.

It didn't matter that he had kidnapped me; it didn't matter that a cop had tried to kill me; and it didn't matter that, sooner rather than later, this very unusual situation would have to come to an end one way or another. I was enjoying letting myself take care of him and getting to know him.

I realized that the more time we spent with each other, the more confused I was, but for now, all those emotions were shoved to the bottom of my heart, and I was, for once in my life, taking life day by day.

Against all my resolve, when I heard his voice calling for me, I ran to his bedroom. He was standing there in front of his desk, so I went to his side.

"We need to talk," said Alejandro with a serious frown, a shadow over his face. "But coffee first."

"I will go make it," I said, rushing past him as he tried to leave the room.

"Amelia…"

"No, the doctor said you have to rest. You shouldn't even be up on your feet this much."

"I feel fine. I am perfectly capable of going to my own kitchen" he retorted, frustrated.

I felt a sudden rush of fear run all the way up my body.

"No! You have no idea how bad you were just a few days ago. You were sweating, trembling…you were dying! And if something happens to you, I don't…I don't know what…"

"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 ni?a, 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.

"I am not sure," he admitted, "but in the past few weeks, he has not really acted as you'd expect a father would when it comes to you."

"He is not my father," I hastily corrected.

"Yes, and I get that now. We"ve tried to negotiate your ransom…but he hasn't budged…"

"Because he is not my father!" I screamed.

My stomach felt like it was twisting into knots. The truth was that I was hurt. Richard wasn't my father, but he was the closest to one I had ever had. The fact that he didn't care that I had been held captive for so long wasn't necessarily surprising, but it was still hurtful. To go from that to thinking he would actively participate in harming me was too much, even for him.

"I know, Amelia, but you can't expect that I would have known…"

"What? Known that he doesn't care about me, that he never did? That he treats me like his charity case, refuses to let me learn anything about my mother or her country? That he is a fucking asshole who used me to look good to his social network?"

"Amelia…" he reached out to me.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, stepping backward.

My breathing was heavy, and I got dizzy, but I didn't care. I was livid, mad at Richard for rejecting me as a daughter, mad at Alejandro for wanting to use me against him so stupidly, making my palpable loneliness, my lack of a family undeniable, opening wounds I had repressed a long time ago. Mad at myself for allowing those men to hurt me like this.

"Richard CANNOT stand me. He NEVER loved me, NEVER wanted me. He kept me around out of pity…or obligation. He was never there for me, and you…you think he will part with something he considers valuable, for me?!"

I broke into a resentful laugh. Alejandro looked angry and concerned with no idea how to calm me down.

"You are JUST like him! All of you! You selfish bastards! I am sick and tired of being used, of feeling worthless because of you!"

He closed the distance between us in a second to grab me before I fell. I was blinded by pain, snapping because all the emotions I had kept bottled up for years were coming out in strong, destructive currents. I was fighting him, punching him, pushing him away from me.

"Amelia, calm down!" he ordered, shaking me. "Please! I don't like seeing you like this. Let me explain!"

"There is nothing you can say!" I yelled in tears. "Nothing!"

"I did not use you! This was never meant to happen!"

I couldn't see straight anymore. My knees were weak. I lost all my strength, shaking, feeling like my blood was leaving my body.

"You need to lie down," said Alejandro, grabbing my waist, forcing me to lean on his chest as he took me to the bed.

I wanted to protest, but there was no energy left in me. I was drained. Alejandro laid me on the bed. He got up and brought me a shot of tequila.

"No," I complained, pushing his hand away.

"You are drinking it," he ordered, bringing the glass to my lips.

The smell teased my nostrils. I didn't want it, but he forced me to drink it anyway. My face cringed as the strong liquid went down my throat, immediately waking my body up. Alejandro poured me a second one.

"Again."

I chugged it, my eyes shooting sparks at him.

I agreed to lie down, closing my eyes. Shame took over a bit. My outburst wasn't a proud moment, but I was rightfully troubled. How could Richard try to have me killed? Why would he do such a thing?

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

His words shook the gaping hole in my chest and caused tears to continue rolling down my face. I turned away from him to avoid his gaze. Alejandro got up and went to sit down on the patio to give me some space. I took a third and then a fourth shot of that tequila, straight from the bottle Alejandro had left on the bedside table next to me, desperate to numb the pain and to stop feeling. Before long, my eyes were closing, my brain needing to shut down to process all of this.