Page 127 of Flawed

I get a latte, and she gets a cappuccino. We sit down at a table, away from anyone else. I ask her, "So, how are you feeling?"

Pina gives me an exasperated look. "Are you going to ask me this every time you see me? I told you I feel fine now."

I wince. "Sorry. But you know I worry. You've been through a lot. And I've never been so scared as when you were gone."

Darkness fills her face. She softens her tone. "Me, too." She looks out the window.

I put my hand on hers. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She puts on a brave face. "Yeah, I am. Let's change the subject."

"Okay," I agree.

She adds, "Let's talk about something I'm wondering."

"Which would be...?" I ask, but I get the feeling I'm going to regret asking that.

Her face turned serious. She flips her hand on top of mine and studies me for a moment.

I shift in my seat. "What?"

She blurts out, "Don't you think it's time maybe you told Zara a little bit about her dad?"

"No," I state, firm in my belief that I've made the best decision regarding that situation.

Pina shakes her head in little bobs.

"Don't look at me like that," I hurl.

"It's affecting her, Chanel. She has a right to know something about her father," Pina voices.

"There's nothing I can tell her," I assert and take a sip of my hot drink.

"Fine. Then at the very least, tell me who he is," Pina orders.

"You know I won't do that," I fume, upset she's pushing for this when we've had this discussion too many times.

"Why not?" she pushes.

Upset, I explode, "Are we really going to go over this again?"

She sighs and holds her hands in the air. "Look, all I'm saying—"

"It's not your business. Stay out of it," I warn.

"I'm your best friend. We've been through everything together. Over the last few months, you demanded I tell you everything about what I went through, and I didn't want to. But I did. So I think you owe it to me to tell me who he is," she claims.

My insides quiver. I shut my eyes and vow, "I can't. I'll go to my grave with it."

Tense silence fills the air. I focus on my drink.

"Chanel, I know this is hard."

"No, you don't know."

"Then fill me in. Make me understand why you won't tell anyone," Pina insists.

"He's dangerous," I state.

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