I AM HOME. I’m finally home. I should be happy. I should be overjoyed. I should feel blessed beyond measure. But I don’t feel any of those things, because Mateo is not here. He’s in a hospital somewhere, fighting for his life. My father finally updated me after pleading and begging for hours on end. He finally relented and let me know that Mateo is alive but in critical condition.
I can’t sleep, eat or breathe without thinking about him.
Staring out the window of my old bedroom, which feels foreign to me now, I sigh deeply. I’m being held against my will by my own family. I haven’t been able to leave my room, let alone the house since I’ve been here. They all think I’m suffering from severe PTSD and Stockholm syndrome, and they’re patiently waiting for me to snap out of it. But what they don’t realize is that there’s nothing to snap out of. I know all of this sounds insane, but I fell in love with my captor. And I won’t be able to rest until I know that Mateo is okay.
A knock sounds at my door, startling me out of my inner turmoil. “Come in,” I call.
My father walks into the room. He looks worse for wear, his face etched with worry, and I feel awful my family had to go through so much while I was gone. I’m sure the constant concern and not knowing what was happening to me all this time got to everyone, emotionally and mentally.
Dad stands a few feet away from me, and I realize he’s holding a piece of paper in a vice grip in his hands. He’s wearing a suit, but the tie is undone, and his shirt is wrinkled. His dark hair is disheveled like he’s spent some time running his hands through it. This is so unlike my father’s usual appearance that it’s scary. He’s always so put together and in control.
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “What is that?” I ask, although based on my father’s reaction to it, I’m not sure I even want the answer.
His gray eyes lock on mine before he glances down at the paper, gripping it so hard I swear he’s trying to bleed the ink from the typed words. “Your blood tests came back,” my father starts. “Aria…” His voice trails off, and I’m suddenly anxious.
God, with the way he’s acting, did I contract some kind of incurable disease or something? “Dad, what is it?” I press.
“You’re pregnant, Aria.”
I stare at him, blinking rapidly like I’m attempting morse code with my eyes or something. “What?” I ask even though I heard him loud and clear.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, his voice strained with emotion.
My eyes drift down to my flat stomach. I’m not even showing yet. Haven’t experienced any obvious symptoms. I had no idea…
My father clears his throat and says, “Now, we have a few options here. We can take you to a clinic —.”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “I’m keeping the baby, Dad,” I explain vehemently.
He nods solemnly. “It’s your choice,” he says, his voice full of anguish. And then he adds, “I just didn’t know if you would want to keep it.”
“Why would I not want to?”
“Because you think you’re in love with the man who held you captive for months,” he explains adamantly.
“No. I don’t think that, Dad.” I can see the sense of relief in his face, and I almost hate to burst his bubble with what I’m about to say. “I don’t think I love Mateo. I know that I love him. I fell in love with him.” Steeling my spine, I continue with, “Dad, I don’t have Stockholm syndrome or whatever the hell else those people think I do. I’m not delusional or in denial of what happened to me. I’m well aware of how crazy all of this sounds, but I don’t care. My feelings are my feelings, and I won’t pretend that they just don’t exist.” I take a few seconds to calm down before I add, “Did you know Mateo was the one who had Constantine Carbone murdered in prison?”
A surprised look is on his face, so I know he wasn’t privy to that information.
“When Mateo found out Constantine had kidnapped me and hurt me, he put out the word to take Constantine out. He did it for me, Dad.” My breathing stutters when I think about all the times Mateo protected me. “That wasn’t the only thing he did for me. He kept me safe. He always kept me safe.” No one has let me tell my side of the story yet, and it feels freeing being able to tell them something good about Mateo.
My father takes a few minutes to absorb my words. Clearing his throat, he says, “You do realize Mateo’s going to prison for the rest of his life.”
My head protests with a vicious throb when I think about not ever being able to see him again except for when he’s behind glass or bars. “There has to be something we can do. I can testify on his behalf or something! Tell the FBI that it wasn’t his fault; that I wasn’t there against my will.” I’m near hysterics, but I don’t care. I don’t want the man I love going to prison because of me.
“I wish it were that simple,” my father starts. “You have to understand that it’s not just the kidnapping charge, Aria. Mateo is not a good man. The FBI has had him on the top of their most wanted list for a long time. He is the head of a very dangerous cartel. His rap sheet is a mile long. They are going to prosecute him to the fullest extent and never let him out of prison.”
A sob attempts to escape, but I press the back of my hand to my lips to silence it. I can’t break down right now. Mateo needs me even if he doesn’t realize it.
Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I put my head in my hands. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know our story can’t end like this. I think about the beginning of our relationship and how my horrible fate on that island led me to him.
The Island.
And then an idea hits me like a freight train, and my head snaps up, my gaze meeting my father’s. “What if Mateo offers the FBI something that they really want?”
My dad cocks his dark brow. “Tell me more.”
And so I do. I tell him everything, knowing that this is my last chance to save the man I love…and the father of my unborn child.
THERE’S A KNOCK on my door the next morning, and then a second later it opens. I expect to see my parents or my brother, since they’ve been checking on me religiously, but instead it’s Renato.
My breath leaves my lungs in a rush when I see his familiar, handsome face. Months ago, I would have run and jumped into his arms. But everything changed the moment I met Mateo. I’m not the same person I was before I was kidnapped. And I doubt if I’ll ever be the same again.
Renato used to make my heart skip a beat whenever I saw him, but my rhythm is steady now, unwavering. It only beats for one man, and he’s not in this room.
“Hi,” he whispers, his green eyes searching my face carefully. “How are you feeling?”
I’m not sure if my father and brother told him about the pregnancy or many details surrounding what happened to me, so I decide to play it safe. “I…I’m okay,” I say quietly.
“How’s your shoulder?” he questions, motioning to the sling.
“Not too bad. I’ve had worse pain,” I admit before cringing. That probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but it doesn’t seem to faze Renato much. I feel like he’s not really accepting of what happened to me, or maybe he just doesn’t want to. It’s probably easier that way. He seems full of anxiety, and I watch as he nervously shifts from foot to foot. He doesn’t know how to act or what to say, and I can definitely say the feeling is mutual. The last we were together, we were making out in the hallways of the compound, trying not to get caught by the security guards. And now it feels like we’re total strangers.
“How have you been?” I ask, not knowing what else to talk about.
Renato quickly swallows up the distance between us with a few big strides across the room. “It’s been hell without you here. I barely slept. I couldn’t eat. Fuck,” he rasps, taking in every detail of my face as if committing it to memory. “I’ve missed you, Aria. So much.”
Before I can even blink, he’s gathering me into his arms and holding me tight. At first, it’s innocent. Just a friendly hug. But when I feel his mouth on my cheek and my neck, placing kisses as he whispers how much he’s missed me, I quickly push him away with my good arm.
My breathing is ragged as I stare up at his wounded face, and it kills me a little inside. Even though Renato and I never discussed a future together, I know he definitely wanted one. He always wanted more than I was willing to give. I never really had a definite reason as to why I was always holding back with him, besides the possibility of losing our friendship, but I have one now. I have two actually.
“Renato, we can’t do this,” I try to explain.
His dark brows furrow, and he begins pacing the floor a few feet away from me, dragging his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends in frustration. “I’ve been sitting here for months, Aria, waiting for you to come back to me. I was sick to death worrying about you every minute of every day. Don’t you get that?”
Tears fill my eyes as I try to come up with words that will make this whole situation better, but I can’t. There’s nothing I can say that will make any of this okay.
He stops pacing and looks at me. “I think after you’ve had some time to think, you’ll realize what that monster did to you. You’ll realize that what you went through was trauma and —.”
“I love him, Renato,” I blurt out, ripping off the band-aid.
He winces at my words, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t want to accept anything that doesn’t involve him and me. I get it, I do. Renato and I have been friends and more for years. He assumed nothing would ever change that. Maybe I did too. But fate unexpectedly intervened and set me on a different path, one that forks away from Renato and what we had. I never had to question if it felt right with Mateo or if we were better off friends. And that only solidifies my true feelings and that I’m doing the right thing. With Renato, our friendship came first, and I never wanted to ruin that. I still don’t.
“Why, Aria?” he finally asks.
“Because Mateo protected me. Because he sacrificed himself over and over again for me. Because…” My hand drops protectively over my stomach.
“You…you’re pregnant?” he asks incredulously.
Shit. So, no one told him. I had just assumed someone had. Groaning inwardly, I look up at him. “I’m sorry, Renato. I’m sorry for everything.”
“Yeah. So am I,” he says before leaving and slamming the door behind him.
I stand there for a long time afterwards, hoping that he’ll come back, but he doesn’t. I could try to go after him and fix things, but that won’t make anything easier. It will only make things harder, for the both of us.
The bottom line is that we were destined for very different things. My only hope is that, in the future, when Renato meets the girl of his dreams, he’ll finally realize the same thing that I did — that what we shared was special but only temporary.
I want him to find somebody that makes him happy. Somebody he doesn’t have to hide his relationship with. I want that for him so badly, even over my own happiness. And if that isn’t true friendship, then I don’t know what is.
