Page 21 of His to Protect
"Evelyn's." Her voice warmed immediately, the way it always did when she talked about her sister. "Oh, Mireya, it is so lovely here. The children made me a welcome sign. Little Diego drew a portrait of me and gave me a crown." She laughed softly. "I look like a queen."
Despite everything, I smiled. "That sounds like Diego."
"Evelyn put me in the sunroom. It gets the morning light. And the kids have been in and out all afternoon wanting to show me things. Marisol taught me a card game. I haven't laughed this much in months." A pause, and I could hear the genuine contentment in it. "I forgot how much I needed this. Being around family. Being a little bit fussed over."
My throat tightened.
She was happy. Actually, genuinely happy, in a way she hadn't been in our tiny apartment where I watched her try not to worry and she watched me try not to collapse. This was good for her. The noise, the kids, the chaos and warmth of Evelyn's house.
It would absolutely destroy me.
Three kids between eight and fourteen. A pull-out couch. Nowhere to decompress after a twelve hour surgery, nowhere to fall apart quietly, nowhere to be anything other than brave and fine and holding it together.
I loved my family. I could not live there right now.
"Come here after your shift," Mom said, softer now. "We'll squeeze. It'll be good for you too, all this life around you."
"Mom." I stared at the ceiling. "I have something else arranged."
“What do you mean arranged? Mireya, talk to me.”
“It’s a work assignment. A live-in nursing position.”
Silence stretched between us for several loaded seconds.
“It’s for a colleague’s family. His sister needs medical supervision during her recovery from a major surgery. It's temporary, but it pays well and includes housing. It will give me time to save money and make a plan.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Absolutely not. You need rest, not more work. Come here. Let us take care of you for once.”
“Mom—”
“You have taken care of everyone else for years. Let us take care of you now. Please, sweetheart.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and I heard the fear underneath—the desperate need to protect me the way I'd always tried to protect her.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring my disaster into Aunt Evelyn’s already crowded home. Or watch my mother make herself smaller to make room for my failures.
"It's already arranged," I lied again, hating myself for it. "I start tomorrow. They need someone immediately."
“Mireya, please,” she begged. "Don't shut me out like this. Just come stay with us."
“I can’t.”
“Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked, her voice breaking.
Because I'm supposed to be the one who helps. Because I've spent years holding everything together, and if I fall apart now, I don't know how to put myself back.
"This is a good opportunity," I said instead, forcing my voice steady. "It solves the housing problem and provides income. It's the smart choice."
Silence stretched between us.
“Is it safe?” Mom asked finally, quietly.
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
