Chapter 4

With my eyes closed, the kiss came flooding back.

Dante's mouth was cold at first, but his breath burned. Then everything blurred together. His lips, his tongue, my lungs giving out, my body limp like someone had pulled out all my bones.

I turned red again.

Thank God the light was off.

I thought sleeping in his arms would be impossible.

I was wrong.

I slept straight through.

I woke up after seven. Dante was already gone. I touched his side of the bed — it was cold.

I got up fast. We had to be at my parents' house by nine.

When I came downstairs, I found him in the living room reading a finance magazine. He was wearing a gray suit, black shirt, and zero effort to look attractive. That was the unfair part.

His jacket was open, one ankle resting on his knee, his gaze calm on the pages. He barely lifted his eyes, and I forgot why I'd been rushing downstairs.

"Good morning," I said, remembering the kiss.

"Good morning."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to grab something."

I fled to the dining room.

Dona Rosa had left out everything: sweet bread, fruit, milk, coffee, juice, eggs. I ate a little, checked the time, and went back out.

On the coffee table sat elegant boxes and bags.

"What's all that?"

"Gifts for the visit."

"That's a lot."

"It's normal."

It wasn't normal. It was excessive. But in his world, maybe that was just "stopping by to say hello."

"Thanks for taking it seriously."

"We're family. Stop talking like we're strangers."

The sentence stopped me cold.

Family?

The chauffeur loaded the gifts and we left.

An hour later we arrived at the Robles house. My dad and my mom came out to greet us. Dante got out with me and, in front of them, took my hand.

He didn't ask if I wanted him to. He took my hand, and that was that. In front of my family, that gesture weighed more than any explanation.

"Mr. Robles. Mrs. Robles."

My dad practically exhaled in relief.

"Come in, son."

My mom smiled, but her eyes dropped to our intertwined hands and the smile dimmed a little.

In the living room they served us coffee and sparkling water. My dad told me I should behave well at the Montalvo house, fulfill my responsibilities as a wife, and not cause problems. I nodded.

Then he asked Dante to be patient with me because I was young.

"I will," he replied.

Everything was strange but bearable.

Until Lorena came downstairs.

She was dressed in white, pale, with that martyr air she pulled off too well.

"Dad. Mom."

My dad tensed.

"I told you to go out for a walk."

My mom defended her.

"She's sad. Leave her alone."

Lorena only looked at Dante.

Dante didn't look at her.

Not once.

The atmosphere turned heavy. I tried to make myself small on the couch.

Then my mom said:

"Ximena, come with me. I want to talk to you."

She took me to her room. Closed the door and sat me on the bed.

"Tell me the truth. Have you consummated your marriage with Dante?"

I went ice-cold.

"No."

She sighed in relief.

That sigh hurt.

"Then we can still fix this. Your sister loves Dante. She's destroyed. Help her get him back."

I stared at her, not understanding.

"Mom, what are you saying?"

"You don't love him. You haven't been living as husband and wife. You're not losing anything."

"I'm losing my marriage. I'm losing my name. You think that's nothing?"

"This wedding was never supposed to be yours."

There it was.

The naked truth.

I took a deep breath.

"You all asked me to marry him. Now you want me to push him back toward Lorena."

"Just until Dante stops being angry."

"If Lorena loved him so much, why did she cheat on him?"

"She was forced."

"Mom..."

"And in the meantime, don't provoke him. Don't seek him out. Don't you dare sleep with your brother-in-law."

My face went cold.

"He's my husband."

I heard myself say it and the word trembled inside me.

Husband.

Not brother-in-law. Not some awkward houseguest. My husband.

She looked away.

"You know what I mean."

"No. I don't want to hear any more."

I stood up.

For the first time, thinking about Dante didn't just make me embarrassed.

I stood behind the door, hand still on the handle. Outside was Dante. My husband. That made me breathe strangely.

"When Lorena gets back what's hers, I'll help you find a good match," she said, as if she were doing me a favor.

I didn't answer.

I went back to the living room with a tight throat.

I sat down next to Dante.

He noticed something immediately.

He brushed a strand of hair from my face — a gesture so intimate that Lorena saw it and clenched her jaw.

"What happened? You don't look good."

"Nothing."

I lied terribly.

Dante looked at my mom.

"Mrs. Robles, what did you say to my wife?"

My mom went pale.

His voice didn't rise, but the whole room bowed its head inside.

The tone was low. Still, everyone turned.

"Nothing. We were just chatting."

"Before she left she was fine. Now she's not."

Everyone went quiet.

I looked at him, surprised. I didn't expect him to defend me. Much less in front of my own family.

"This lunch was important to her," Dante continued. "If we're not welcome, I'm taking her home."

He stood and took my hand.

He didn't ask if I wanted to leave. He decided for me, and the worst part was that it didn't bother me. It gave me a shameful kind of peace.

My dad reacted immediately.

"No, no. Let's talk. Beatriz, what did you say?"

My mom opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Of course she couldn't say it. Not in front of Dante. Asking a wife to help her husband go back to her sister was insane even by her standards.

"Mom," I said, tired, "I don't feel well. I'm leaving."

My dad tried to stop us.

"But you just got here. Stay for lunch."

"Another day."

Dante was impeccable.

"When my wife feels better, we'll come back."

We left.

My mom was left with her face falling apart. My dad followed us to the door, trying to fix something that was already broken.

When the car pulled away, Octavio Robles exploded.

"What did you say to her?"

Beatriz cried with rage and shame.

"I only asked her to help Lorena. Maybe Dante still has feelings for her."

"That's idiotic!" he thundered. "Ximena is his wife now. How could you even ask her that?"

Lorena listened from the couch, red with fury.

"You took him from me!" she screamed. "He was mine!"

Octavio slammed the table.

"You caused this. Not Ximena. You."

Lorena cried and ran out. Beatriz went after her.

In the car, Dante only let go of my hand when we sat down.

My palm stayed warm.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For defending me."

"It's what I'm supposed to do."

I didn't know what to say to that.

After a while, he asked:

"What did your mom say to you?"

I bit my lip.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

But I did want to. It hurt too much to keep it in.

"She asked me to help Lorena get back together with you."

Dante frowned.

"She said that?"

"She also asked me not to... not to consummate the marriage with you."

His expression went cold.

"That doesn't make sense. You and I are already married."

"For her, this wedding was temporary. A way to save the family's face."

Dante went quiet. Then he asked:

"Did you agree?"

"No. It's absurd."

Something in his face softened.

I needed to know.

"If I agreed to help you get back with Lorena, would you go back to her?"

"No."

He answered without thinking.

"I won't go back to your sister."

"Not even when you're over being angry?"

"I don't pick up trash."

I went mute.

Cruel. Direct. Very Dante.

The kind of line you know you shouldn't like, but in that moment it made me feel protected in an almost indecent way.

Trash.

My sister.

"Did you ever care about her?"

"No."

"But you were engaged."

"A family arrangement. Nothing more."

"She seems very in love with you."

Dante looked at me.

"If she were, she wouldn't have been with another man before marrying me. Would you?"

No.

There was no other answer.

My phone buzzed.

It was my mom.

She said she'd been wrong, that Lorena was in a bad state and that's why she spoke without thinking. She promised to make me garlic shrimp when I came back.

I replied:

"Mom, that's what Lorena likes. I like my shrimp spicy."

She took a while to answer.

"Oh, honey, I don't remember exactly. I'll make you that shrimp next time."

I turned off the screen.

It wasn't that she didn't remember.

It was that she'd never looked at me long enough.

Dante noticed my face.

He didn't know how to comfort me. You could see it in the set of his jaw.

Then he looked at my hand.

"Why aren't you wearing the ring?"

"It's loose. I'm afraid of losing it."