Page 51 of Shameless in Vegas

A thumb gliding below my eye, catching a tear.

I love you.

His hand picking up mine so he can kiss my tattered palm.

I love you.

Him standing up just so he can sit down on the step next to me, pull me close to his side, and kiss my head—just like my mother did in the only memory I have of her.

I love you.

His open palm not slapping my face, rather making slow, firm circles on the small of my back while he tells the maid, who is cleaning my wounds to“be gentle.”

Treacherous heart,something inside me cries out,don’t do this to me.

It’s the contrast between the behavior of this man and the one who cowardly snuck out a window that is now the real threat to me and my ability to secure my freedom.

THIRTEEN

JOAQUIN

“IT WOULD NOT NECESSARILY be a traditionalbeachwedding,” Mamá says to Elle and Colin, but mostly Elle because everyone knows planning a wedding is something that guysreallydon’t give a fuck about. Mamá opens a glossy brochure and slides it across the dining room table where everyone is enjoying a light tapas dinner after we returned from the beach. “There is an open pavilion, and even a lovely chapel. The resort also has a wonderful team of wedding stylists who can design exactly the look you would like.”

Elle picks up the brochure and thumbs through the pages. “Oh.” She tilts her head to one side. “So it wouldn’thaveto be outdoors. That might actually be ideal because we could still have the exotic feel, but not actually have to deal with the weather andsand.” She curls the side of her lip in disgust, and then looks at Colin. “Don’t you think that would be ideal, honey?”

“What wouldreallybe ideal is just going to Los Cabos and not having to deal with planning a wedding since we already got married in Vegas,” Colin remarks offhandedly as he bounces Audrey in his lap.

Elle’s features flatten into a deadpan expression, and Colin glances at her, immediately realizing he’s gambling with the doghouse, and he cringes.

“I mean, yeah,” he says quickly, then clears his throat. “That would be ideal.”

Elle flutters her lashes. “I only agreed to do that Vegas marriage becauseyouwanted to,andyou promised me we would still have our regular wedding.”

“I know,” he hastily replies, “and we’re still going to. And it’s going to be beautiful.” He leans toward her to kiss her cheek. “And I love you, and you’re magnificent.”

Elle rolls her eyes, but then laughs along with Mamá, Lili, and Papá, and I automatically glance at Natalia, who’s been sitting in a strange silence the entire time we’ve all been in the dining room. She forces a smile, her eyes flitting upward for a moment before she looks at her plate again.

Twenty minutes ago, Natalia filled her plate with a random sampling of the tapas offerings, but she hasn’t touched any of it. She also keeps shifting in her chair as though she’s in pain, which is understandable given the way she totally ate it on the stone steps this afternoon. But there’s also a weariness in her expression, like she’s exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with the sleeping pill I give her every single night. The pleasant, carefree demeanor she’s had the entire time I’ve known her—other than the one psychotic episode she had after I mixed the pill with tequila—is suddenly absent, leaving her quiet and withdrawn. She won’t really look at me. All of this over the course of the afternoon.

I’m guessing the fall just rattled her. It was a pretty scary fall that definitely could’ve been worse. But something about her demeanor is weird. And it’s not helping me keep my feelings for herat bay, which is critical for dealing with the secret between us. Seeing her like this is nagging at the pang in my chest, and I know it’s because those feelings aren’t going away for a while. There’s a disconnect between my heart and my head. My head knows who and what she is, but my heart doesn’t care. That idiot has decided he belongs to her, and that I do, too, and nothing but time is going to change that.

Simultaneously, my head knows that timeisticking away, and eventually I’m going to have to deal with all the secret shit that we’re both pretending doesn’t exist. In order to deal with it, I have to keep up the charade so that she’ll have total trust in me, because this is going to come down to me confronting her and convincing her to talk to Papá.

“It will be beautiful,” Mamá says, picking up her wine and leaning back in her chair. “Now,mijito.”

I swirl my glass of scotch and look at her. “Yeah?”

She gestures with the wine glass at Natalia and me. “Are you two planning to have a real wedding as well? Do you want it to be somewhere here in the Hamptons or perhaps the city? Or we could even do another tropical—”

“What?” I squint at her. “When did we ever say we were planning to have a real wedding? In fact, I’m pretty sure I said—”

“I hope I’m not being too forthright, but…” Natalia starts to say, then looks sideways at me. “Is it okay if I speak about it,cariño?”

My brow pulls low, and I shoot an incredulous look at her. “You don’t need my permission tospeak, baby doll.”

A small smile tugs the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.” She turns back to Mamá and seems to divide her attention equally between her and Papá. “As wonderful as a wedding might be, I have to admit I am still a bit uncomfortable with the extravagant amount of money Joaquin and I are living on.”

Natalia pauses as she shifts in her chair, obvious pain blanching her face, and I reach to rub her back on pure reflex. The quick smile she casts my direction looks totally put-on and actually kind of sad, and then she looks at my parents again.

---