"Isa, he is a dangerous man. Whatever he has done to you... we can get you help. Whatever you think you are feeling for him right now, it isn't real."
Javi argues before I can, speaking in his native Spanish tongue, which my father understands but I do not. My head hurts as they continue to bicker, and I realize that maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.
I can't understand their words. But body language has no barrier. They hate each other. It is clear as day.
I still don't understand what happened between them. But despite the obvious tension in the room, I’m on a cloud of euphoria right now. It feels as though the storm clouds have finally lifted away and the sun is shining again.
Javi loves me. And my father has returned. The rest will have to work itself out. The rest, we can figure out later.
My father segues back to English, and Javi follows suit, answering him so that I can hear.
"I have hurt her," Javi says. "As I set out to do."
The tone of his voice threatens my haze of blissful ignorance. Something is off. Something is wrong. Javi is withdrawn. His eyebrows pinched, his shoulders tense.
He looks so ashamed. So guilty. And worse, he looks so far away.
“I learned from the best,” he continues. “I had every intention of coming here to thank you, Ray. For guiding me. For showing me the way. For teaching me how to destroy the fragile minds of people who are not like us.”
My father's face pales, and a cold sweat forms over my body. I don’t know what he’s saying. That my father did this to him? That he did to Javi, what Javi did to me?
I look up at Javi and see nothing but genuine sincerity on his face. He reaches out to touch my face, and for a moment, I forget everything else and focus on him. On the light in my heart. The one I thought long since extinguished, which now burns bright.
“My Bella,” he whispers. “I wanted to be selfish. I would give anything to be selfish if I did not know that there was only one possible outcome from all of this.”
My heart stops beating. My lungs stop taking in air. And I’m shaking my head before he can even say it.
“What do you mean?”
"Isa."
My father’s voice is harsh. Harsher than it's ever been with me, and he's looking at me like he doesn't know me at all right now. Like I am no longer his daughter, standing here in the house that I grew up in.
“What Javi is trying to say is that the things you are feeling right now, they aren’t real. And in time you will see that. You will understand that when you’ve had some time to heal. To contemplate the reality of your situation.”
“No,” I tell them both. “Don’t try to tell me what I feel. I love Javi. And it’s real. I will always love him.”
My father sighs and Javi looks away. I don’t like this. I don’t like where this is going. I won’t let him leave me behind, and I tell him so.
"I need a drink," my father says. "Will you get us a drink Isa, please."
His bar is still stacked against the wall where he left it, so I don't have to leave the room. It gives me the opportunity to clear my head. To digest everything that's happening.
I reach for the bourbon, and my father interrupts me.
"Not that," he says. "The Macallan."
I look back at him in question. He only drinks this whiskey on special occasions. But I guess today is a special occasion, being that he is alive.
I pour two glasses and take one to him and hand the other to Javi. They stare at each other from their seats, and I remain quiet between them.
My father swirls the amber liquid in his glass, staring into the abyss as he gathers his thoughts.
"This is over,” he says to Javi. "I'll never allow it to continue."
I rub my temples and look at my father.
"It isn't up to you," I tell him. "Dad, please. Don't do this. Not today."