Honest

Ambar

I finished cleaning. The whole night, in tears. Now breakfast was ready. I went upstairs to get dressed — I wanted to leave before they woke up. I didn't want them telling me how to dress. The door opened. I turned and saw Pablo walking toward me.

He looked at me, reached for something on my vanity. The makeup I owned came from gifts — old classmates from high school, Arturo the driver, and someone who left things hidden on my nightstand at night. Though these days I didn't talk to or see any of my high school friends. I didn't even have a phone. He picked up a lipstick.

"Can I?" Pablo asked.

I nodded. He began tracing the pink lipstick across my lips carefully, gently — tenderly, you might say.

"Simple colors make you look more beautiful," he said. "Even if Mom thinks otherwise. These bring out everything — your eyes, your lips, your pretty face. You look gorgeous."

"Why?"

"I wasn't going to sell you. I'd never do that. Last night Mom was outside listening. It was her idea, and she wanted me to tell you. Then Dad was at the kitchen door — Mom was watching when I whispered to you. But I never planned on going through with it. It was a threat they told me to make. I never imagined Adrian would ask for you. Although — it's better this way."

"Better?" I said. "Marrying someone I don't even know?"

"Adrian is the most powerful mafioso in this territory. The biggest CEO of them all. If you want to get free of Mom and Dad — to make sure they never come looking for you or bother you again — he's the answer."

"What do you get out of it?"

"You being happy, beautiful."

"Why?"

"Remember when I used to help you clean?"

"I'd do your homework in return."

"You were always smart. Tens across the board, even with the housework. You keep the place spotless, organized. The food's always on time — and let me tell you, you're a good cook. Don't believe their lies. It's all part of their plan. When I was twelve and they saw me helping you, not treating you badly, defending you — they got angry. They threatened me. If I didn't start treating you worse, they'd sell you off to be a maid. Or worse. I chose to treat you badly, even though I never hit you, never insulted you. I could never go that far."

"The chocolate on my nightstand every morning. The makeup and the gifts."

"That was me. You deserved it. I'd sneak in at dawn — you're a heavy sleeper, honestly. I'd leave a kiss on your forehead, tuck you in, leave the chocolate or a gift, and go. The affection I couldn't show you during the day because they were always watching — I gave it to you at night. That's why I had you do my assignments. I'll admit I'm not great at studying, but I gave them to you for two reasons."

"Which are?"

"First — you're smart, and that way you'd learn more about the world in case you ever had to leave. Second — I told Mom it was a punishment, when really it was my way of showing you I was still there."

"You love me?"

"Of course, beautiful. I love you so much. I never stopped loving you, worrying about you. But I couldn't do more. If I defended you, went against them, or didn't treat you the way they wanted — the threat was always hanging over us. I don't know why they never loved you. I was happy when you were born. I loved having you, and I'll admit I loved taking care of you. That's why I'm telling you — this is better for you."

"How can it be better?"

"For Mom and Dad, your duty — for ruining their lives, according to them — is to stay here forever. To be their servant, their slave. And when they get tired of you, they'll sell you to a brothel. I overheard them talking about it a few days ago. It hurt even more when they told me to threaten you yesterday. I didn't want to do it, but they control me. So convince Adrian to marry you. Get him to pay more for you. Because if you come back without that deal, I don't know what Mom and Dad would be capable of. I'll defend you if that happens, but I don't know what could happen to us. We'd both be in danger."

"And if I pull it off?"

"You have to. Otherwise — you know. It won't be one man, always. It'll be a different one every day. And it'd kill me to see that."

"What about you?"

"I got a job. A while ago. I don't go out to hang with friends like you all think — I go to work. I've been saving, and I talked to a classmate from college. I'm going to move in with him. I'll say it's necessary. If you leave, I leave too. We'll leave Mom and Dad on their own. Let's see if they appreciate having you then."

"You're sure they won't come looking for me?"

"Positive. Nobody's stupid enough to mess with Adrian. I know you'll behave — you do it here. Why wouldn't you do it with the man who'll be your husband?"

"What if he asks when the wedding should be?"

"Ambar, you need to get out of here as soon as possible. I can't stand them treating you like this anymore. I was thinking about taking you with me, but I don't trust my friends. They know you, they've seen you, and they all agree you're beautiful — because you are. But I know it goes beyond that. I'd rather leave when you do."

"So you really do love me."

He pulled a small box from his pocket, opened it, and showed me a necklace.

"For my beautiful girl," he said. "You know why a flower?"

"No."

"Because every flower is different. Color, shape, petals — even roses aren't the same. Depending on the season, they wilt and lose their color. But when their season comes, they glow. They bloom. They show their beauty. This is your season. As Adrian's wife, you'll be unstoppable. Untouchable. May I?"

He held up the necklace. I nodded. He brushed my hair aside and clasped it around my neck. It was a relief to know he'd pulled away from me only to protect me. Now I understood the chocolate every morning — I'd never known who left it. Now I did. It was him. That gave me peace. He'd never hit me or treated me badly. That's how I knew it was the truth.

"Go," he said. "Use that beauty of yours to convince Adrian to accept you. And if he doesn't — at least get him to free you from this place."

"Thank you."

"I love you, beautiful."

"I love you."

He held me in a hug — a real one, one I'd missed — and tears streamed down my face. He kissed my forehead, wiped my tears, and then his own.

"Get going before they wake up and find something to complain about," he said. "You look gorgeous like this. But for them, you'd need to show more skin. So go."

"Thank you."

He kissed me, walked me to the door, and I left. The driver would take me.

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