Page 32 of Shadowed Obsession

I open my mouth to respond whenMami’svoice shrieks from behind me.

“¿Qué? ¿Tienes una novia?” my mother exclaims, her hands together as if in prayer.

“Oops. I’ll be seeing myself out,” Mariana mutters with a wince.

“Nope, you’re staying.” I say, grabbing her arm with soapy hands to stop her.

“What’s her name? What’s she like? How did you two meet? Tell me everything, Chuki,”Mamisays, her face lighting up, and it makes me feel like shit.

I have to lie because she needs this right now. Something to look forward to, a distraction from worrying aboutAbuela. I’m a shitty liar, but I tell myself I can keep this up for a while. Say it didn’t work out after I close the case and she doesn’t have to know.

I swallow, turn to grab a towel, and face her. A hopeful smile graces her face, one I haven’t seen in a while and would do anything to keep it there.

“Her name is”—I pause to glare at my sister—“Deirdre. She’s a whiskey distiller who recently moved here from Brooklyn.”

Mariana gasps, cutting me off. “I was talking to Daya the other day. You know she does tattoos in Brooklyn now. Broke up with thatpendejo, too, and seems happier.”

I do want to know more about what led to my cousin leaving her long-time boyfriend, but I’ll ask more once I’m no longer in the hot seat. We all hated the guy, so I know Mari won’t spare any details about it.

“I didn’t know that,” I say before returning to the topic at hand, my eyes meetingMami’s. “It’s still very new. We met not too long ago and have only gone on a few dates. She is not mygirlfriend, but I enjoy spending time with her.”

Mamiraises a brow, and the question I was dreading comes out of her mouth.

“When can I meet her? She’s welcome to dinner anytime! Please bring her,” she begs, reaching over to touch my arm.

I mull over my response, because there is no way in hell I can bring Deirdre to meet my family. As much as I want to make my mom happy, I can’t promise anything. My presence in her lifeis temporary, and what has transpired between us is rooted in dishonesty.

She doesn’t know who I am or why I’m following her, and if she did, she damn sure wouldn’t agree to meet my parents. I suppose she’d introduce herself at my funeral after she killed me, since mobsters tend to do that sort of thing. Finally an excuse flies from my mouth.

“She travels often for work and our schedules don’t always align, but when it feels like the right time, you’ll meet her,” I say, hoping that ceases any further questions.

“Okay. I’ll give it a rest. I’m happy you found someone, son.”

“Me too,” I murmur. “Me too.”

14/

the geminis

Deirdre

6:28 a.m. | 18 days after ‘the incident’

Scar

Good morning, birthday girl.

I’m sorry that you’re a Gemini. Happy birthday, though!

Thanks, asshole. What’s your sign since you’re talking shit?

Scar

I love when you talk dirty to me.

I’m a Cancer. No slander allowed.

You’re crybabies.

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