Shameless(85)

I back away and shrug my bag up my arm. He turns my chin and makes me look at him. A deep sigh leaves him as his eyes rove over my face. “Don’t go. Stay for the holidays at least.”

Glancing away, I try to get my bearings. When I look at him again, he seems just as anguished as I feel. In a moment of weakness, I ask the words I know I’ll regret. “Can you give me a reason to stay?” My heart flaps wildly in my chest. “Tell me you're not going back to Boston. Tell me you’re not leaving and I’ll stay.”

He squeezes his eyes shut like that’s the last thing he wants to hear.

“That’s what I thought,” I say to myself.

He shakes his head. “I just… I can’t make that promise.” He releases me to press his palms into his eyes.

When he looks at me, I give him a sad smile. “I can’t get any deeper knowing where this is headed. I’m in too deep as it is, you know?” The heat in my eyes burns, but I blink it back. “Good luck in Boston. I really wish you the best.” Reaching behind his neck, I pull him down to me and kiss him. “I’ll miss you. So much,” I whisper against his lips before I turn away.

When I step back, he looks away. I know what that means. The word I couldn’t say. Goodbye.

Thankfully, my car starts right up, and I tear down the driveway. I know I’m leaving behind half of my belongings, but nothing compares to the fact that my broken heart lies at his feet in that farm house.

It doesn’t matter. It’s where it belongs.





56





Katherine





When I reach the main road, I realize I can’t see the road through my tears, so I pull over to the rest stop by the highway, the one where my parents and I slept when I was a kid, and I cry harder.

I must fall asleep because the sun is starting to set when I pry open my eyes.

My head is throbbing, and I can’t contain the groan that rumbles in my throat because I’m so sore from sleeping like a pretzel. It takes me a second to orient myself, and then I wish I hadn’t.

I wait for the tears, but none come. Instead of heartache, I feel numb. And maybe that’s a good thing. A defense mechanism. Internally, I thank biology for pulling the plug on my emotions.

Grabbing my phone, I realize it’s dead. I dig in my bag but can’t find my charger.

“Dumbass,” I grumble, dreading my next move. But it’s the only thing I can do.

I head home. To Corpus.



The air is cold and salty when I finally stumble out of my car and up my parents’ driveway. Corpus Christi is on the Gulf of Mexico, so even though it’s December, the ocean is only a stone’s throw away, and I can smell it. Feel it in the wind that whips my hair into my face.

The driveway is lined with cars. It’s Christmas Eve, so I’m not surprised, but dang. I’m not in the mood.

My hand freezes on the door handle. Deep breaths.

The first step into the hallway makes me pause. It smells like tamales and cinnamon and lemon Pine Sol, such a familiar scent that reminds me of family get-togethers. Like the year our whole family was so poor, we gave each other socks for Christmas. Everyone got really into it, and it became a game to see who could give the ugliest pair.

I poke my head into the kitchen. A dozen people are buzzing around. My dad is stirring some vat at the stove. Probably menudo. My mother is braiding my cousin’s hair. Everyone is smiling and eating and hugging. Tori finally sees me.

“Holy shit. It’s Katherine!”

Everyone turns to me, mouths open.

“Hey, guys.” And goddamn it. I left their gifts under my bed at the farm.

I sigh and force a smile.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting. Yelling? Threats? A one-way ticket to a convent? But that’s not what happens.

Instead, my dad yanks me off my feet into a bear hug.

“Mija!” My father twirls me around until I’m laughing.

He’s wiping away tears that only make mine well up. Ugh. Can I go twenty-four hours without crying? This is ridiculous.

When my dad releases me, my mom rushes in for a hug. “Gracias a Dios! She’s home!”

People hand me off like a rag doll to hug me and pet my hair. Yes, really. They pet me. And then they make me sit down and eat because they claim I’m too skinny.

It takes all of sixty seconds for Tori to saunter over and sit on my lap like she’s five, not seventeen.

“Dude, get your bony ass off me.” I try to shrug her away, but she clings to me like a koala bear.

“I missed you, sissy.”

Aww. My heart melts a little. “Missed you too, Tor.”

She grabs my face and whispers, “Did you bring your hot man toy?”

I shrug out of her hold and shake my head. “Don’t call him that. And no.”

She studies my face and then gasps, “You guys broke up?”

Again, everyone’s attention is on me. “Yes, we broke up. Is everyone happy now? Brady’s going back to Boston. And no, before you ask, I am not getting back with Eric. You may not know this, but he’s an *.”

My little cousins start laughing and my mother flutters around like I just declared that I like to pole-dance with pasties in my free time.

Two hours later, my parents kick everyone out so we can talk. They’ll be back tomorrow for Christmas anyway, so it’s not like I ruined anything.