Page 62 of Outspoken

Loudly, he announces, “Hey, Miguel! I went to find a broom and found your lost jacket.” He glances around. “Where is he?” His wandering eyes land on me and he walks over. “Have you seen Miguel?”

I shake my head, practicing a deep breathing technique to remain calm so I can disappear without a scene. “No, but, um, that's actually my jacket.” I try to take it, but he moves it beyond my reach.

“Pretty sure this is Miguel's. He got it from his mom. She made it for him as an eighteenth birthday gift.”

I shake my head. “Maybe our jackets look alike, but it's—”

“He used to wear it all the time,” Rico cuts in. “Then it just disappeared. How crazy is it that I found it in Maribel's coat closet?” Before I can respond and explain that I came here wearing it, he leans the broom against a chair and opens the jacket to reveal the lining. “Marta, his mom, used to sew her kids' names into their clothes so they couldn't bicker about ownership.” His fingers find an edge near the bottom and pull back an extra fold that was sewn in.

The name sewn under the fold is very clear:Miguel.

“See?” Rico says. “Knew this was his. He's going to be stoked I found it.”

My veins turn cold and the whole world spins. I’m surprised I stay standing.Why was Miguel's jacket in my closet?How have I been wearing it so long? Why didn't he speak up? I lean back to grab the edge of a table for something stable.

I never knew my understanding of the world could crumble so fast.

Before Rico can walk away with my—Miguel’s—jacket, I say, “Oh, uh, I'll give it to him. If you don't mind?”

He glances at it and then shrugs. “Sure.”

When he hands it to me, I add, “I actually need to leave, but thanks for letting me hang out.” I give him a quick hug. “Happy birthday.”

He looks disappointed. “Aw, right before cake? That's too bad, but I hope to see you again. It's great seeing you and Miguel together.”

I nod and force a smile, hearing his unspoken word ringing in my ears: finally.

It's nice tofinallymeet you after years of hearing your name—years of hearing all about your life and freakouts and struggles and addictions.Finally, we can put a face to the unhinged woman and the crazy stories.

I walk toward the house, smiling politely at Miguel's family as I make my way inside. I glance around to get my bearings. When I hear voices, I walk toward them, finding myself in the kitchen where Miguel and Maribel are sticking boxes and boxes of tiny candles into a square chocolate cake.

Maribel notices me first and smiles warmly. “Oh, good! We might need extra help to fit these in. Rico is getting number-candles next year.”

Miguel laughs, finally turning to look at me. When he notices the jacket, his eyes widen and he sidesteps, blocking Maribel's view of it.

I shove the jacket into his chest, trying to contain the jumble of hurt emotions stabbing me. I’m sure his family already knows I’m emotionally unstable, but I’d rather not show them.

Though it's hard to look at him, I stare him straight in the eyes and say, “Just wanted to return your jacket, Miguel. You know, the one withyourname sewn into the hem.”

The color drains from his face, and his mouth slips open. He works his jaw a few times like he's trying to get words out but can't.

I lean around him to look at Maribel, sounding as friendly as I can while fighting tears and pain—so much pain. “Thank you for having me and for the amazing food. I have to go, but it was so nice meeting you.”

She nods, glancing between me and a stunned Miguel. “It was great meeting you, too. I hope to see you again if my brother hasn't messed something up.”

I glare at Miguel and say, “He absolutely has.” My voice cracks with the words, then I hurry to the living room.

“Amber,” he calls after me. “Wait. I was going to tell you.”

Doing my best to avoid a scene, I grab my purse from the side table where I left it and head for the front door.

Miguel steps in my path. “Hear me out.”

“Let me go. I don't care at this point.”

But I do care. I care that he was hiding things from me and talking behind my back. I care that his family knows all of these personal details that I wasn't ready to share. I care because I'm tired of being the woman everyone hears about first from stories. Why can’t I have a fresh start? Why can’t I be plain, normal Amber without all the fucking baggage?

I was starting to feel emotionally safe with Miguel, like I didn’t have to keep my walls so reinforced. I was starting to feelsomething, period. Now that's shattered.

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