Page 59 of Dash

“You know how you told me about the promise you made to Nix?”

“Yes.”

“Well, a long time ago, I, too, made a promise.”

“To whom?”

“To my mother.” She let out a long sigh. “As she lay dying in her bed, she made me swear that I’d take care of our family, that I’d keep us together. She asked me to look after Nix and my sisters, and then she begged me to care for my father.”

I opened my mouth and closed it, unable to believe my ears. “Doña Lupe asked you to do all of that?”

Thena assented. “She knew our family would never survive if someone didn’t commit to holding it together. This was her job. She passed it on to me.”

As a kid, and later, when we were together as lovers, Thena had always shared her secrets with me. I was so shocked she’d kept this to herself that I grappled for words. “You never told me about this promise.”

“It was the last thing she asked of me.” Thena looked small and distant at the end of the limo’s long seat. “I felt bound to hold the secret in my heart.”

“Thena, I loved your mother, but you were too young, and she had no right to ask all of that of you.” I was flabbergasted. How could anyone ask so much of a kid? “And the part about your father? That was a burden no child or woman should ever have to bear.”

“Mother was desperate.” Thena defended her mother’s actions with the loyalty she’d always given so freely. “She knew Father was a difficult man, but in retrospect, I don’t think she anticipated how her death would affect him and what a greedy despot he’d become.”

I had memories of the better man Richard Astor had been before Doña Lupe died. He’d always been gruff and high strung, but he’d been generous to her and had worshipped the ground she walked on.

“He did change a lot after she died,” I admitted, albeitreluctantly.

“Yeah.” The sadness that brought tears to Thena’s eyes was hard to watch. “The oath I made to my mother was the reason I stayed behind when my sisters left. It’s why I ditched my career, which I loved, and went to work with Father. Nix’s death destroyed him. It made his behaviors more extreme. He had these grandiose plans for Nix, and suddenly, his son was dead. I felt so sorry for him.”

I couldn’t find it in my heart to feel sorry for Richard Astor, but having shared in the grief of Nix’s death, I understood his loss.

“I thought that maybe, if I worked with him for a little while, I could somehow temper him.” Thena’s gaze grew distant. “I’d hoped to help him regain some perspective, like my mother used to do. My plan has always been to turn the Astor Group into a global charitable foundation. I thought maybe if he could see all the good his fortune could do, he would stop being so ruthless.”

“But it didn’t work out, did it?”

“No.” Another long sigh. “I mean, look what he did to me, to his own daughter. He destroyed me with full knowledge and intention because he wanted a male heir. He made a deal with Alexander because I wasn’t enough. After Nix died, he became angrier, crueler, even more bitter if that was possible. He tried to control us. This is what drove my sisters to leave. They were so mad when I told them I couldn’t go with them.”

“I can imagine.” I studied her profile. “Did you tell your sisters about your oath?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Her throat rippled with a swallow. “It was my responsibility, not theirs. And also…”

I encouraged her to go on with a motion from my hand.“And also what?”

“I promised my mom I’d take care of my sisters.” Thena met my gaze, as if looking for validation. “If I told them about the oath, they would’ve stayed to help me carry it out. This would’ve been unfair to them, especially as my father was out of control.”

It was pure Thena, and it reminded me of the person she’d been before she’d become a business executive, the woman I’d fallen in love with, the amiable, caring, kind-hearted person who took care of everything and everyone. Animals, people, kids in foster care, the land, the lake, the rivers, the forests, they had all been the beneficiary of her generosity.

Just as I’d been.

Ever since she was a kid, Thena had been the caregiver to all, a loving soul always connected and attentive to the needs of others. She’d seen to everyone’s happiness, strived to please everyone in her world, including her irascible father, who didn’t appreciate her. She’d excelled at taking in strays and rehabilitating the wounded, including me.

Especially me.

It struck me that she’d molded herself to please everyone in her life. She’d given her love freely, no matter how hard it was to love someone like Richard Astor.

Or me.

---