I can be difficult. Intolerable at times. I won’t deny that. But he loves me regardless. He protects me, and I’m certain he always will. I can accept his disappointment in me. I can find a way to bear his shame, which can’t be worse than my own. But I will show him there’s still something in me to love. Something worth salvaging. I just have to pull myself together and figure it out. The way I always do.

I release a few shuddering breaths and force my gaze to the reflection in the mirror. I don’t recognize the person staring back at me. The woman with the long black hair and dark eyes may as well be a stranger. I feel detached from her. Empty. And it’s a fucking relief.

That means numbness is setting in. As long as I can stay like this… unfeeling, I can survive.

Robotically, I brush my hair and dress in the cheap sweats Santi bought me on the way here. They are a far cry from my usual clothing, but I don’t care. I’m exhausted, and I need to face him. I need to show him that it’s okay. I’ll find a way to fix everything.

When I emerge from the bathroom, my brother stands by the window, his gaze unfocused as he peers through the glass. I know he feels my presence, and he certainly heard me open the door, but it takes him a few moments to turn and face me. His expression is guarded, his eyes equally anguished and frustrated. It sets me on edge, the tightness in my chest gripping my breath like a vise.

“Santi.” My strangled voice forces his name out. “Why are we here?”

He swallows the words he doesn’t want to say, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. Even so, I can’t accept it. I have to believe there’s a purpose for me being here other than what my instincts are screaming at me.

“Tell me everything,” he orders in true De La Rosa fashion.

I make myself move, taking a seat on the bed, my hands twisting together in my lap. “I will. But I need you to promise you won’t hate me. No matter what. I need to hear that from you.”

“I can’t promise you anything.” He glares at me.