accident is getting to you, that’s all. You’re just overwhelmed,” he said softly, while gently stroking her hair. “I’ll talk to Juan. He won’t be staying here longer than a week. That gambling little shit should’ve known better than to invest everything he had in a bet.”
Lucinda had a gut-wrenching feeling, thinking of all the possible things that could happen in the coming week if things went sour between Juan and her husband. Octa covered himself up with the blanket, satisfied with his decision, but Lucinda couldn’t go to sleep.
“Love, did you kill Bob?”
“We both know he left the house right after he got waterboarded without informing us.”
“It is a yes or no question, Octa.” She got up and sat on the bed.
“I didn’t kill him,” he said as he turned to face her.
Then, she rested her head on his stomach and closed her eyes. Octa was still up.
“Lucy, are you sleeping already?”
“What is it, love?”
“We never finish talking about Christina?” A deep silence fell in the room after he said that.
“Love, go to sleep.” She rubbed his stomach.
“I’m not going to sleep, not until we talk about it. You care more for other people’s business than mine or ours.” Octa got out the bed, turned on the light, and stared her in the eyes.
“Love, please, lower your voice.” She sat on the bed. “I just didn’t have the courage to share my feelings with you. You are becoming distant with me sometimes.” She started crying. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Octa frowned. “You’re not the only human being in our marriage. I feel like you don’t care about my feelings as you prefer to pretend that nothing has happened to our daughter.”
“I’m sorry, love.” She reached for his right arm and pulled him toward the bed. He was reluctant, but he gave in when she stood up, hugged him and cried over his right shoulder. They then went to bed.
The next morning, Lucinda got out of bed feeling tired and started with her daily chores. Octa and Juan got up almost two hours later and sat down for breakfast. Octa was quiet for a long time before he spoke. “Lucinda and I have to go to her mother’s house this weekend for her cousin’s wedding. I suppose you can lodge here till then. You’ll have to find someplace else to stay after this week. We won’t be in town for days.”
Juan put down his fork and clenched his jaw. All of a sudden a weird tension filled the room.
“Why didn’t you just throw me out on the porch last night?” he asked Octa through gritted teeth.
“I am not throwing you out. You’re a grown man, and you need to look out for yourself. I have responsibilities I need to take care of.”
Juan scoffed. “Fine, I’ll be out before you know it, big brother,” he said bitterly and left the table.
That night Lucinda decided to make a drink for Juan and bring it to his room. She prepared everything just the way she recalled he liked it.
She walked to the guest room with his scotch on the rocks in her hands and slid open the slightly parted door. Inside, a body wrapped up in a blanket drenched in blood was lying on the bed.
Chapter Three
Lucinda let out a loud shriek, turning away just as she spotted Juan coming out of the bathroom. “Wha . . . Who is that under the blanket? Whose blood is that?”
Octa was not home, and Lucinda suddenly felt panic creeping up her spine. She heard noises from the bathroom—running water. She looked at the red-stained sheet and blanket that covered the lifeless form lying underneath it.
The bathroom door creaked open. Within seconds, Juan stumbled out, seriously drunk.
He looked at Lucinda and gave her an irritated look. Lucinda noticed he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and his eyelashes were still wet.
“It’s wine! You guys never spilled some wine?” he uttered in a smashed voice.
Lucinda scanned the bed and started to calm down. It was wine.
“I was having a go at the 12-year old whiskey I bought from
Lucinda had a gut-wrenching feeling, thinking of all the possible things that could happen in the coming week if things went sour between Juan and her husband. Octa covered himself up with the blanket, satisfied with his decision, but Lucinda couldn’t go to sleep.
“Love, did you kill Bob?”
“We both know he left the house right after he got waterboarded without informing us.”
“It is a yes or no question, Octa.” She got up and sat on the bed.
“I didn’t kill him,” he said as he turned to face her.
Then, she rested her head on his stomach and closed her eyes. Octa was still up.
“Lucy, are you sleeping already?”
“What is it, love?”
“We never finish talking about Christina?” A deep silence fell in the room after he said that.
“Love, go to sleep.” She rubbed his stomach.
“I’m not going to sleep, not until we talk about it. You care more for other people’s business than mine or ours.” Octa got out the bed, turned on the light, and stared her in the eyes.
“Love, please, lower your voice.” She sat on the bed. “I just didn’t have the courage to share my feelings with you. You are becoming distant with me sometimes.” She started crying. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Octa frowned. “You’re not the only human being in our marriage. I feel like you don’t care about my feelings as you prefer to pretend that nothing has happened to our daughter.”
“I’m sorry, love.” She reached for his right arm and pulled him toward the bed. He was reluctant, but he gave in when she stood up, hugged him and cried over his right shoulder. They then went to bed.
The next morning, Lucinda got out of bed feeling tired and started with her daily chores. Octa and Juan got up almost two hours later and sat down for breakfast. Octa was quiet for a long time before he spoke. “Lucinda and I have to go to her mother’s house this weekend for her cousin’s wedding. I suppose you can lodge here till then. You’ll have to find someplace else to stay after this week. We won’t be in town for days.”
Juan put down his fork and clenched his jaw. All of a sudden a weird tension filled the room.
“Why didn’t you just throw me out on the porch last night?” he asked Octa through gritted teeth.
“I am not throwing you out. You’re a grown man, and you need to look out for yourself. I have responsibilities I need to take care of.”
Juan scoffed. “Fine, I’ll be out before you know it, big brother,” he said bitterly and left the table.
That night Lucinda decided to make a drink for Juan and bring it to his room. She prepared everything just the way she recalled he liked it.
She walked to the guest room with his scotch on the rocks in her hands and slid open the slightly parted door. Inside, a body wrapped up in a blanket drenched in blood was lying on the bed.
Chapter Three
Lucinda let out a loud shriek, turning away just as she spotted Juan coming out of the bathroom. “Wha . . . Who is that under the blanket? Whose blood is that?”
Octa was not home, and Lucinda suddenly felt panic creeping up her spine. She heard noises from the bathroom—running water. She looked at the red-stained sheet and blanket that covered the lifeless form lying underneath it.
The bathroom door creaked open. Within seconds, Juan stumbled out, seriously drunk.
He looked at Lucinda and gave her an irritated look. Lucinda noticed he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and his eyelashes were still wet.
“It’s wine! You guys never spilled some wine?” he uttered in a smashed voice.
Lucinda scanned the bed and started to calm down. It was wine.
“I was having a go at the 12-year old whiskey I bought from
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