Page 115 of For Cowgirls and Kings
A million questions race to the tip of my tongue. Logically, I know this isn’t the time or place for this conversation. But I’m desperate. Desperate for answers. Desperate to protect Dale.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pleadingly.
“I couldn’t take this pathetic mess a moment longer Mateo!” she screeches. “You haven’t really been to the casino in months. You’ve wanted to do nothing but play pretend with your broken barbie doll. You’re better than this, Mateo. You’re stronger!”
Her words cut me, flaying me open to the point that I almost feel my life's blood draining from my veins. I’ve avoided the world for months, just like she’s saying, because I wanted to protect Dale. But even as I think that, I know it’s not entirely true.
Have I been using Dale as an excuse to avoid my life?Have I been helping her at all?
Even though her words are venomous and full of hatred, I hear the truth ringing in them too. And that’s more painful than anything she could say. So I nod, hanging my head. I might not want the weight and responsibility of my life, but I can’t avoid it forever. And the longer I do, the harder it’ll be to return to the real world.
The world where I can’t have Dale, even if she’s the only thing in it I truly want.
I feel suffocated by the realization, and my throat bobs as I work to get the words out, “I’ll be there early tomorrow. I’ll plan to stay as long as necessary, to get things organized and back on track.”
V shakes her head, and my eyes snap up to hers. “You don’t get it. You have to be all in. That’s always been the deal. People like you and I don’t have a choice. Send her home, Mateo. Let her have a life that doesn’t include you and all of your baggage. She’s not one of us.”
Gus huffs behind me. “I think it’s time you go. You too, McCrae.”
McCrae reluctantly nods, turning to his bike without another word, pausing only to wait for V to follow behind. Her eyes remain fixed on a spot over my shoulder though, blazing with an emotion I don’t know how to identify. And then they dim as she faces me once more. “You might see me as the villain in your tragic life, Mateo, but as the only person who’s ever truly sacrificed for our family legacy, I can say this without remorse. You’re fucking up, and if you don’t figure it out soon, you’ll ruin the chance of anything good in your life. I would know. Try being happy with the privilege you have, instead of yearning for something you'll never get. It’s pathetic and beneath you. And it’s going to ruin her life.”
Without a backwards glance she turns and leaves, only a cloud of dust and her words echoing like a death nell in my ears, proof that it wasn’t all just a nightmare.
FORTY-TWO
ADALENE
April 7th, 2025
“You’re crippling her.”Valentina’s words echo through my mind as I stare out the small window facing the barn where Stetson and Gus are busy washing off a young colt, smiles on their faces as they playfully shove at each other.
No one knows I heard Valentina the other night—no one but Valentina that is. As she said the words, it was my eyes she stared into, not anger or resentment filling her expression only pity. And pity from a person like her has to be the lowest of the low. Especially when I know what she did,what she’s truly responsible for.
There’s some honesty to her words. What good is it doing me, being trapped in Mateo’s castle, not facing the world? It’s busy moving on without me, and if it can run without my presence, what good am I? How will I ever integrate?
But the thought of breaking off things with Mateo feels closer to carving out my own heart than anything else. Unfortunately, I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a way around it. Not only do I truly not belong in his world, but him being in mine is allowing me to not face my problems. He’s so good, so perfect atcovering up all the bad that’s happened. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there, festering just below the surface.
I stare down at the phone gripped in my hands, preparing for the call I know will break me. It’s something I have to do.
Dialing the number, I bring the phone to my ear with a shaky hand. No turning back now—happy thoughts, Adalene Maria.
“Hello?” My father’s warm voice fills the line, the word etched in concern. He’s a good man—always been a balm to my wounds. But he’s never been an antidote, never a safety between myself and that which hurt me. And I’m coming to realize, even though I love him and he’s a good man, he hasn’t been a good father. Not in the ways that matter.
“Papa, I’m calling to talk to you and Mama.” My voice trembles, and I breathe deeply through my nose as I hear him shuffling.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Is Mama there with you?” I respond instead, unwilling to waver even as my heart threatens to crack in my chest.
“We’re both here,” he says, sadness all but bleeding through the line.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” My mother’s voice follows, much harsher and suspecting.
I suck in another deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you both, about what happened to me, and about how you responded. You haven’t called once since then.”
I wait for several beats, before an exasperated sigh fills the line. “If you were closer, we might be able to stay in contact more. As it is, I never know when you’re busy.”
An angry tear skitters over my cheek, but I don’t wipe it away. “Picking up the phone is incredibly easy.”
