Sailing With Destiny

Fiesta

I gulped and stared at the weathered-down, leather diary that was an almost replica of Tom Riddle's diary from Harry Potter. Anxiety and the rapid beat of my heart didn't allow me to reminisce about my childhood obsession with Harry Potter, instead, with hesitant hands, I took the diary from Mitchell. 

I felt Mitchell's heated gaze on me, but my eyes were firmly fixated on the leather-bound book. "How," I gulped, "how did you get this?"

"I found it on the bed when I came up," Mitchell replied.

My throat felt dry, and I slowly lifted my gaze to meet Mitchell's. I swallowed for what felt like the hundredth time. "Did you, um... did you read it?"

Mitchell's brows knitted closely together. "Why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?" Mitchell gripped my shoulders and stared at me with concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Must you always answer my questions with another?" I coolly retorted. 

Mitchell pursed his lips and looked displeased with my response. Nevertheless, he replied calmly, "I opened the first page and when I figured it was your diary, I immediately closed it."

These are the times I love how much of integrity he has.

Relief washed over me, my heartbeat slowed down and it felt like I could breathe as ease again. The last thing I wanted was for Mitchell to have read my diary and misunderstand everything that was written. 

"Why was it on the bed?" Mitchell broke my train of thoughts. "Your silence is a little worrying."

"Raquel," I bitterly muttered under my breath. "She put it there for you to read."

Mitchell's frown deepened, he blinked and licked his lips. "Why?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "She thinks there's something in here that will drive a wedge between us."

Mitchell scoffed. "So, she's also delusional," he muttered to himself.

I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his, "what if she's not?"

Mitchell remained quiet for a long moment and studied my features. He took the diary from me, tossed it on the bed, pulled me closer, and stared warmly into my eyes. "Talk to me, baby," he spoke softly and caressed my arms. "Something's been on your mind all day, get it off your chest."

As I stared into Mitchell's loving gaze, whatever anxiety I had building slowly peeled away. All I could see was how much he loved and cared for me, at that moment I doubted anything could've ever changed his feelings. But I also knew Mitchell well, he was refined and despite small issues like a short temper, he was pretty much perfect from a perfect family – the last thing I wanted was for him to see me like some... tainted girl. 

Just get it over with Mila. Whatever is meant to follow will happen.

I hesitated for a moment, took in a breath, and said, "when I was around the age of seventeen, something...happened. Or I did something... I don't know how to word it properly."

Mitchell quietly stared at me with no readable expression on his face. My stomach felt terribly uneasy and my heart raced. Mitchell's stare made the situation worse and I would've rather the ground swallow me alive than have to talk about something I kept buried.

"Mila!" My name was shouted from outside the door. "¿Dónde estás?"

My eyes shifted to the door and I nervously glanced back at Mitchell who seemed unfazed by Tía's voice from outside. "What happened?" Mitchell spoke softly.

"Cariño!" Tía's voice got louder. "We need you downstairs for a second."

I licked my lips and for some reason, I felt pressured when my aunt called my name and knocked on my mom's bedroom door. I shut my eyes and cursed under my breath before I shouted, "Aquí, Tía, estare ahi pronto!"