Page 43 of Knot Yours

“This man. He treats you well?”

I nearly swoon. “Austin is amazing and a better cook than even you.” And you’ll never see him again.

My smile fades, but I hide my sorrow by spooning a bite of soup. I don’t taste the food, though. It’s merely a distraction and a means to keep up the appearance that I’m not breaking apart on the inside.

“What are you going to do about your man?” Apá asks softly.

“Nothing,” I whisper and then laugh to cover a choking sob.

“I don’t understand. If you love this man, how could you let him go?”

“Apá… I’m here now. Though we’ll fight it, I’ll end up working in the family. You know this. Austin is a good man, a hero, and I’d just be a criminal.”

My father slams his fork on the table hard enough to make his plate bounce. I fear I’ve taken things too far by essentially calling him a villain. “Not if I can help it. I may have borne you into this life, but your mother’s dying wish was that I free you from it. I plan to do just that.”

He shoves out of his seat and tosses his napkin onto the table. “Apá, wait! What will you do? Please, I cannot lose you too. If something happens to you, there won’t be anywhere for me to hide.”

“Do not worry for me, Tesoro. I’ve had my turn. It’s time to make some choices for you.”

A lead weight settles in my chest, and I drop my head to my arms on the table. I love you, Cordero, but I wish I’d just kept dancing. Then, no one would care, and I wouldn’t be in this position.

My father’s staff cleans the table around me as I wallow in self-pity. I don’t know how long I’ve been there when I feel a gentle squeeze on my shoulder. “You’re free, Tesoro.”

I lift my head from the table to make sure I heard right. “Free?”

My father nods. “I’ve spoken to El Gran. I reminded him of my loyalty and success and that you are all I have left. I have never asked anything of him, but I asked for this. I asked for my daughter to be left alone to help sick people instead of creating them. El Gran assured me you would not be involved in the business with one caveat. When I pass on, he will assign an heir to my position. I cannot do anything about the Pastranas, but you will be free to live out whatever life you choose here.”

My heart flips at the news, but my joy is tempered because I still feel the loss of the one thing I can’t have—Austin. “Thank you, Apá.”

“Do not thank me, Tesoro. Not when it is I who am responsible for your plight.”

I rise from the table, and after kissing my father’s cheek, I walk outside, not stopping until I reach the seashore. I sit in the sand, wrap my arms around my legs, and tuck my cheek to my knees. Was it only this morning that I slept so comfortably in Austin’s arms?

That moment seems a lifetime and a world away from where I am now. I assume Austin has seen the note and knows I’m gone. I feel awful for running out after I told him I would stay. I would have felt even worse if Austin or Piper had ended up becoming a casualty of my stupid life.

I remain on the sand, listening to the waves until the sun lowers in the sky. With one last look over the Caribbean, I trudge back to my room and shower before sliding into bed.

Sunlight pours through my window after a long, sleepless night. My mood is dark, but the island sun ignores my misery. After dressing and applying a light dusting of makeup, I leave my room to join Apá for breakfast. Afterward, I plan to contact the research director in Virginia and formally ask about the transfer to the San Juan facility.

Before last night, I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but since my father successfully petitioned El Gran for my freedom, I don’t intend to waste the opportunity.

My eager planning comes to a grinding halt at the sight in the dining room. Seated across from my father is none other than Dario Cruz. A large bouquet is on display between them. Dario stands as I enter, wearing his media darling smile. My father wears a frown.

Seeing Dario here makes my skin crawl, but my automatic response to a guest in the house is to assume the role of demure hostess like all Puerto Rican girls of good breeding. “Mr. Cruz. What a… pleasant surprise.”

Dario advances and bows slightly, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. “Señorita. Lovely to see you again.”

Apá clears his throat, and Dario retreats to the table, pulling out a chair for me. I’m still lost as to what’s happening, and I look from him to my father. Apá doesn’t explain, and since I have no interest in Dario’s business, an awkward silence ensues.

Eventually, I revert to my manners and take the offered chair. Dario hands me the flowers but remains standing next to me. What the hell is he doing here, and why is he acting so… oh my god. Mierda.

My skin chills at recognizing the signs, the observance of propriety. Oh no. Please no. “Señorita Borrero, I’ve come this morning to ask permission of your father for the honor of courting you.”

My eyes dart over to Apá, who only steeples his fingers before standing and addressing Dario. “I am not a man of the old ways. Marisol does not need my permission to be courted. Whether my daughter marries a man or not will be her choice. I’ll leave you two alone.”

I’ve always valued the independence afforded to me by my parents, but this is one time I wish my father were more old-fashioned. If I’d known this was coming, I would have told him to refuse Dario. Or at least not to leave me alone with him.

The fake smile remains on my face until my father walks from the room. “I don’t understand. You see me for fifteen minutes after three years, and all of a sudden, you wish to court me?”

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