Author's POV
10:10 PM
The car had been filled with silence and the drivel from the outside. Valentina looked at the man she thought she had come to know, only once and in disgust. She couldn't believe him. She'd been blinded by his French accent, handsome face and the wholesome man he acted as.
The children were fast asleep in the back, unable to stay awake no matter how awkward things had become between them. "I need you to see past this, ma chere," Ansel told the fiery blonde. She didn't know whether to curse at him in her native Polish tongue or her Spanish tongue, yet the woman had said nothing. She peered out into the window at the city lights, tears coming down from her ducts, red lightning rods stricken her blue eyes and her body shook as she now had become a bit chilly, in need of a jacket.
She felt so embarrassed and ashamed, she wanted to burn the dress that she had on her body. It belonged to the woman who wanted to kill her son, her blue boy. But she couldn't leave in her nudity. Valentina made a mental note to burn the dress and take a hot shower once she arrived home, scrubbing clean and anew tonight's every waking second. Her skin was burning, madly. She didn't notice it but Valentina was breaking out in hives due to stress.
"Valentina!" Ansel gasped.
Still, the woman ignored the man. Ansel pulled over to pay attention to her condition. "keep driving, I want to go home." he grabbed her hand, pulling it close to her face.
"Look at yourself!"
Her skin had bubbled in welts over her hand. "take me home, please." she sobbed.
"If that's what you wish my love," Ansel replied quietly. He still loved her with all of his heart, with or without hives. Whether she hated him or not.
"We're over." Valentina spat. She balled herself into the seat, continuing to look out the window away from Ansel.
He laughed to himself. "you know, when I first saw you I was just doing a private job, Eliza hadn't even authorized it and I did this without her permission, she knew nothing about you. I was checking up on everyone who had delivered the kids-- making sure no one once told what happened that day, I knew she got rid of the--Noah. Anyone would've told that story to get some money and no one did, no one dared to be greedy and you were the last one on the list, of course, you weren't on Eliza's payroll, you had been off the radar.
That's when I found out that you stole a nurse's identity I'm guessing you were illegal that had been living in America for quite some time without anyone knowing you were undocumented. But when I saw you thriving in that cafe making a name for yourself and doing so well, so beautiful I knew I had to watch you, protect you from a distance even at the price of knowing you took the boy as your own. It made me love you more. . . when I was going in there to stake you out you were so polite to me.
I ordered a cheese danish and a coffee, my stomach was rumbling and you heard it. That day I paid only for the coffee while the cheese danish was for free, you gave me two and told me to sit down and eat; you said I look malnourished and it was true. I'd gone through a terrible time in my life. Jean's mother was a junkie and I was a single father, plowing through women and bottles until you saved me with your kindness and love for everyone.
You had gone through many boyfriends while I had my eyes on you for over the years, every time you broke up with them after they broke your heart I killed some of them and a few I told to never come near you again. They never did. You'd call them over and over hoping to have some closure because you are a good, honest woman after all. I had seen that in you, you lived for peace amongst other things in your life. You would cry yourself asleep at night and be the strong woman your son needed. You think your favorite color is black but it's more of a dark gray, you get upset when you look at little girls because you don't want Noah to leave you, you want to learn how to crumb cake but you always fail at it when you try so you make marble cake instead. You are happy when it rains because you rejoice in the pitter-patter or the storms that rock you to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
If I Lie : Book 2
Romance"I am yours, doesn't that mean anything to you?" I asked her. "I would never leave you even at your worst," but now was a time worse as ever; the bruises on my behind were proof and the tremble resonating throughout my body were screaming by her h...
