she hid that too, purely to torment Tony.
“When it was brought to light, she blamed him again. People died because of her actions.”
I put my hand over my aching heart. This is terrible. Edgar’s unembellished, emotionless tone makes the tragedy of the story worse. It’s like the events are already so horrific that you don’t need anything other than the facts.
“Is she in jail?” Papa asks softly.
A corner of Edgar’s mouth dips. “No. Regardless of how reprehensible she is, nothing she did was illegal. I looked.”
“Well, that’s good, right? I mean, at least she’s not in jail,” Hugo says.
No, it’s not, I realize, looking at Edgar’s face. He’d rather have his mother pay for what she did.
“Our father didn’t like the scandal,” he answers in the same flat voice. “He also didn’t like being painted as a villain, even by association. He was complicit the entire time by looking the other way, no matter what she did, but this time he divorced her. He had to show something to the people in our town, especially those who knew more than they let on. The family’s position and tradition demanded we maintain a certain…moral superiority over the town.
“But public divorce or not, he still loves her. And now he wants her back. He believes it’s safe enough to try, since it’s been a while and the family reputation is going to stay intact if he couches it in terms of forgiveness and reconciliation. He doesn’t care how we feel about the situation or that it might hurt us.” Edgar’s gaze slides in my direction, but he doesn’t look at me for long, like he’s afraid I’ll reject him. “I didn’t grow up like Jo. I don’t know how to be a warm person. I’m terrible at being a member of a family as supportive and wonderful as yours, even though I want to be very badly.”
I feel tears form in my eyes. I wish he’d told me all this earlier, then maybe I would’ve understood him better. And realized there was more to his “Jo’s perfect because I’ll never love her” talk.
“Every time my father did something he shouldn’t have, he always said he did it out of his love for Mom. So to me…love is what makes people blind and foolish. And I never wanted it…or even wanted to feel it.” He looks at me helplessly. “I’m sorry, Jo.”
His apology soothes the pain the words I overheard caused. So it wasn’t about me. But at the same time, I’m sad that he’s never going to learn what it’s like to love and be loved in return. “Me too,” I say.
Pablo bristles. “So does this mean you’re not going to marry Jo?”
Mama and Papa look concerned and let down. I’m sure this isn’t what they ever thought to hear from Edgar.
And my uncle, aunt, brothers and cousins all wear identical scowls, their eyebrows pinched together, mouths pursed tight.
“I want to,” Edgar says, answering Pablo.
“But you don’t want to love anybody. I’m not marrying for anything less,” I say, needing to clarify what I require from Edgar in case he doesn’t understand it yet.
“I know. And I realized I was being unfair to you. I was denying both of us a chance to be happy because of what my parents did.” He turns to face me fully. “You bring joy to my life, brighten my day and make me want to be a worthy man. And a worthy man—a man worthy of you—would be brave enough to say that he’s been wrong all along. And he’d tell you that he was too stupid to realize he’s already in love with you until it was too late.”
My throat constricts with emotion, and I stare at him as shock, hope and love all surge within my heart.
“Josephine Martinez, I do love you. Will you take me back?” Edgar asks.
I nod, unable to speak as tremors run through me. My family nods in approval. Angel adds a grunt.
Edgar moves around the table until he’s next to me. Then he takes out a small box and drops to one knee. I see the gorgeous ring he brought last time to propose to me with—the one that struck me speechless with admiration.
“And will you marry me?”
Tears finally fall from my eyes. I blink them away so I can see his beloved face better. The serious set of the bold lines, the bright, tender light in his green eyes.
He isn’t asking it lightly. This is a true commitment.
Tía