Loving Alejandro was one thing she had fought against earnestly. Caring for him, even on her worst days, had given her something she had never truly had, a sense of purpose.
Elise wasn't sure when it started. Was it the time he sat with her in her room and comforted her after she learned her medical school admission had been declined? Or perhaps it was that evening when he insisted on picking up ice cream for her during one of their strolls?
If she was being sincere, she hadn't even noticed when Alejandro began consuming her thoughts.
One day she was putting him through treatment routines, and the next, he was in her dreams.
Initially, she told herself that it happened because she spent so much time with him, guiding him through his medical routines. But even when she found reasons to keep her distance, Alejandro stayed, filling every corner of her thoughts.
And now, out of nowhere, he was telling her he loved her? And they had become intimate.
Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought. She couldn't allow herself to believe it. Not when she was still trying to figure out her own feelings.
If Alejandro truly loved her, why had it taken him so long to realize?
Why now, when he was closer than ever to recovering fully? It was not love, Alejandro was just being grateful and she understood that. But still, he did not have to mess with her heart that way.
What would happen when he finally walked again, and had everyone's attention? Would she still mean anything to him? She had heard many stories like that, and one thing was constant. They would always realize that the caretakers were out of their league.
"Ma'am, we've arrived."
Elise blinked, pulled from her thoughts by the cab driver's voice.
She nodded slowly, handed over the fare, and stepped out. The air was cold, causing her to shiver as she stared up at the building in front of her.
Running away from Alejandro might not have been the wisest choice, but she was too tired to even think of it.
In the eight months she had cared for him, Alejandro had always insisted on compensating her for her efforts. His "thank you" payments of $25,000 a month, along with the occasional bonus whenever he felt particularly pleased with his progress, had allowed her to save a significant amount.
Now, with almost half a million dollars tucked away, she had a plan. She would leave for a new city, start fresh, and finally apply to medical school. If she worked hard enough, maybe she could still build the future she prayed for.
She sighed deeply and turned her gaze toward the house. The number "26" glinted faintly on the gate, reminding her that she was at the home she had left behind eight months ago. She never thought she would return. Yet, here she was, standing in front of the gate.
Elise pushed open the gate, her shoulders stiffening as she wondered how her parents would react to her presence. Her heartbeat quickened with every step toward the door, each stride heavier than the last.
After much hesitation, she reached for the door knob when her hands froze midway.
A sharp voice pierced the stillness, coming from inside.
"Elise already accepted it as her fault. Do we need to tell her?"
Elise's breath hitched. Her hand fell back to her side as she pressed herself against the wall, her ears straining to hear.
Her father's voice followed. "We're not arguing. I just thought that since Clara has shown huge recovery, there's no harm in telling her. Of course, we won't let her know it's your fault."
Margaret's response was quick and venomous. "Oh, now it's my fault? Like you weren't there when I took those drugs? You're the one who got them for me in the first place. Don't tell me you've forgotten that too."
"Dear," Charles cut in, his tone tired, "there's no point in blaming each other now. We both knew the risks. The doctor told us."
Margaret scoffed. "Well, I needed something effective, not those useless drips they wanted to hook me up to for twenty-four hours."
Elise's knees buckled as the weight of their words crashed down on her. She reached out, her hand trembling as it found the rough edge of the wall for support.
She was still trying to piece together what she had heard when Clara's voice joined the conversation. "Are you two still arguing about who's to blame for my illness? It's pointless. Elise already took the fall, and that's what matters. Besides, if she hadn't been so careless, the cold wouldn't have triggered it."
"I agree," Margaret voiced out.
A single tear slid down Elise's cheek, hot against her chilled skin. Was this woman even her mother? She has always had that thought but seeing that all her childhood photos had her in Margaret's arms, then she could not argue.
Clara continued. "I'm much better now, and I've forgiven you both." She chuckled. "Poor Elise, though. She's married to a sick, useless man. Maybe when she's done cleaning up his mess, she'll finally understand the pain she caused me."
Like she had cracked an interesting joke, they all joined in, laughing. "The Mendoza family really looked down on me. Why else would they bring a proposal request for their disabled and useless son to me?" Charles queried. "If not that the financial benefits were appealing, I would have chased them out of my house."
"At least Elise was useful for something," Margaret added with a cruel laugh.
Clara's voice turned sweet, almost syrupy. "You know, sometimes I feel bad for her. But who else could we have traded for the investment they made to Dad's company?"
After a pause, Clara added, "Oh, by the way, Mom, Dad-I never told you, but I declined her admission."
Elise gasped, the sound muffled against her trembling hands. She had suspected Clara, but with no proof, she had buried the accusation. Hearing it now, spoken boldly, made her stomach churn.
Charles frowned. "Did you have to?"
Clara hesitated before responding, her voice carefully measured. "It was necessary, Father. Did you forget how she threatened Mom the day she left? I had to clip her wings a little so she'd remember where she belongs."
The rest of their words blurred into meaningless noise. Elise's vision clouded with tears as her mind reeled.
How was it okay, that for eleven years of her life, she had lived with the guilt of hurting her sister?
How was it okay that she had been denied her childhood because her parents needed a "scapegoat" to pass their guilt to?
It didn't make sense that Clara knew all along, and even went on to decline her admission when she did nothing to hurt her.
It just didn't make sense that the people that did these things to her were the same people that she always wanted the best for and even loved them regardless of the torture they put her through. The people she called Family.
Her knees gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, her body trembling with silent sobs. Elise buried her face in her arms, the cold concrete pressing against her skin.
She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, her heart heavy with betrayal and sorrow. Confronting them felt like an option, but right now, she didn't have the strength to stand, let alone speak.
She had never done anything wrong to them and none of this was okay.
