Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Keep going,” he replied in a neutral tone.
I did, looking at each and every one of them, stacked on top of each other. One by one, laying them all out on his desk. Her face consuming me, she was alive in these photos, smiling, happy. Nothing like the woman who raised me.
“How do you have these? My dance recitals, me at my bus stop, my first day of school… What the hell is going on? How did you get these? Are these how you knew where I grew up? Did I know you? When I was a kid, did I meet you?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, rubbing his fingers over his lips. Contemplating how to approach the subject.
“Answer me! Where did you fucking get these?” I slammed my fist down on his desk. Welcoming the sting. Trying like hell to keep my emotions in check.
“I’ve known you since the day you were born, Lexi. Since your first breath, I knew who you were.”
My eyes widened. “How? I don’t understand.”
“Open the next folder.”
“Not until you answer my questions.”
“A picture is worth a thousand words, little girl. Now. Open. The. Next fucking folder,” he ordered, speaking through his fingers.
I pulled out the file from under the scattered pictures, opening it. “Oh my God,” I whimpered, letting the folder fall to the desk like it had burned me.
The truth was too much for me to take, pictures flew everywhere on his desk. My eyes glued to every last photo, I couldn’t decide which one to focus on more. Seeing all the pictures of them together, kissing, smiling, laughing together. Seeing the man I always knew still lived inside of Martinez. Realizing that the man behind the expensive fucking suit…
Once belonged to my mother.
“She was your girlfriend,” I stated as a question. Letting a few tears escape, but quickly wiping them away.
“No,” he said, bringing my attention to him.
We locked eyes. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. Looking me dead in the eyes, adding, “She was my fiancée.”
“No…” I fervently shook my head. “No… you’re lying. You’re a fucking liar. Is this some kind of sick joke? You think this is funny? No…” I wallowed, my voice breaking. Unable to form coherent thoughts. Stumbling on all the words coming out of my mouth.
“Sophia wasn’t always the depressed woman that raised you, Lexi. I did that to her. I turned her into someone who couldn’t get out of bed, who hated her fucking life,” he sadistically spewed, not caring I was physically breaking down in front of him. “I guess it’s the price she paid for loving me.” He smirked. “I took her virtue, just like I took yours. I guess the two of you have more in common than you thought.”
I jerked back, his truths stabbing, slicing me all over. I would be nothing after he was finished. “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t believe you! You’re lying!” I screamed, loud enough to break glass.
He callously chuckled. “Do you know how many times over the years I had to catch myself from calling you Sophia? Stop myself from groaning out her name, instead of yours when we were fucking. All those years you’ve been asking me what cariño means. It was always your mother, Lexi. She was my cariño.”
Tears streamed down my face. The dam was broken. I didn’t care if he saw them anymore. I didn’t care about anything. I was dying inside. Words could cut you deeper than knives, and his were mutilating me. “Please… please stop… Alejandro I can’t…” I couldn’t catch my breath, the room started to spin. Around, and around, and around.
“Oh, come on, cariño,” he mocked, standing up.
Causing me to take a step back, coming in contact with his bookshelf behind me. I welcomed the sting, needing something, anything to take away the pain from the salt he kept pouring on my open wounds.
“I thought you wanted to know who I was, Lexi?” He cocked his head to the side, arching an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what you’ve been begging for? Wanting me to let you in on my life? For you to know everything about me? My demons…”
More tears slid down my face, placing my hand over my heart. Trying to hold it together. “Did you break her too?” I wept.
He scoffed, shaking his head. “No, she broke me. She left me. Not the other way around. And she spent the rest of her miserable fucking life regretting it. But don’t worry, sweetheart, your father made sure to stick the final nail in her fucking coffin.”
“My father? You knew my father?” I tried taking a deep breath, but there was no air for me to take. It had all been knocked out of me.
By him.
“Oh, I more than knew him. I fucking hated him. Your daddy always had a thing for your mom. My girl. Even when we were together, he watched her from afar. He’s part of the reason she fucking left me. But I didn’t hate him for any of that.”