Page 13 of The Ruckup
“You know darn well everything is not okay, muñeca.” Her tone is sharp and snappy. “Your mother has clearly forgotten what an idiot she was when she was young.” My Abuela pauses. “Not that you’re being an idiot. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s part of life.” My grandmother snorts. “And she has conveniently forgotten all the ones in her past.”
I sigh, butt dropping to the secondhand couch in my tiny living room. “I guess this means she called you already?”
I knew my mom was mad—or disappointed, or both—but I didn’t think she was ‘call her mother at midnight to tell on me’ mad.
Shows what I know.
“Of course she did.” My grandmother scoffs. “Which means she’sstillan idiot, because she should know I would never agree with her on this.”
I cringe, because I’m not sure I want the answer to my next question. “Agree with her on what?”
The grievances my mother has with me are long and varied. She seems to keep a mental list of them, whipping it out whenever I do something she doesn’t like.
Which is often.
“That she has any business meddling in your life. You are a grown woman who can make her own choices, muñeca. Your mother had her chance to run things when you were a kid, but now you get to decide how your life goes.” My grandmother lowers her voice like she’s trying to speak under her breath, but I still hear her next words carry through the line. “And that’s probably the best thing for you, because ¡Dios mío! your mother is a pain in the ass.”
It doesn’t make me happy to know I’m not the only daughter facing a strained relationship with her mother, but Iamglad I’m not the only one struggling with my mother’s opinionated and holier-than-thou personality.
I choose my words carefully when I reply. “I understand where she’s coming from.”
That part is true. I genuinely do see why my mother thinks I should sit at home, alone and isolated. If Drake were to suspect I was seeing someone new—or even simply enjoying life without him—there’s no telling how he would react. It’s probably safest for everyone if I am by myself as much as possible.
And I’ve tried to do that. Spent months doing nothing but working in the office and walking back to the first home I’ve ever called just my own. Initially, I loved it. Loved the peace and quiet. Loved knowing I wouldn’t possibly be walking into a nightmare every time I crossed the threshold.
But when the novelty of it wore off, I started to feel like a sitting duck. I’ve tried my best to make sure Drake doesn’t know where I live, but it’s only a matter of time before he finds me. Discovers where I’m working and figures everything out from there.
And I don’t know what will happen when he does.
I want so much to think he’s already moved on—even though I hate the thought of another woman suffering the way I did—but I don’t think it will matter even if he has. No one has ever stood up to him the way I did, and he is intent on punishing me for it.
“Muñeca, you never know what tomorrow will bring, but it will always come. It is up to you to decide how you spend today. If you want to hide yourself away so you feel safe, then that’s what you should do.” My Abuela’s voice is strong. “But if you want to enjoy every minute you are given, you shouldn’t be made to feel bad about finding happiness.” Her tone turns sharp. “Especially by your own mother.”
I close my eyes on a sigh. It’s so nice to have someone on my side, but I won’t be the one to get between my mother and grandmother. “It’s okay, Abuela. I’m sorry Mom bothered you so late.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, muñeca.” My grandmother almost sounds angry. “And the sooner you figure that out, the happier your life is going to be.”
I know I apologize too much. Especially for things that aren’t even my fault. I want to stop, but it’s hard to stand up for myself. To live without feeling like I have to ask for forgiveness for anything I get wrong.
And half the stuff I don’t.
“Te amo, Abuela. I’ll call you tomorrow.” After wishing my grandmother sweet dreams, I end our call, dropping my cell to the sofa before letting my head fall into my hands.
Why does any bit of happiness I start to find get squashed immediately? I was so happy to find my job here at Sweet Side Apartments, and then discovered the last woman who had it before me left a mess I’ll spend a year trying to clean up. I was excited to have my own place, until I discovered how many paychecks it would take to fill the rooms with furniture.
Even tonight, my parents have managed to pee on my parade not just once, but twice. First by making me feel bad about the best thing I’ve experienced with a man in years, and now by making me feel guilty over possibly causing issues between my mom and grandmother.
But any dwelling I might do over the night’s events is cut short by a quiet knock on my door.
Even after everything that’s happened tonight— and how conflicted I am about all of it—my heart picks up speed. I still hesitate, torn between what I want to do and what I’ve been told is right.
But like the force he is, Leo knocks again, harder this time. Like he won’t let me back out. Won’t let me be alone.
Won’t let me be afraid.
I take a deep breath as I stand, smoothing down the sweatshirt I changed into as soon as I got home as I make my way to the door. Swallowing hard, I open it.
And nearly stumble back. Because how is this man so freaking big?
