Chapter 35 Too Much Anger
Carlos sits across from me, hunched over his plate, eating like the world doesn’t exist beyond his meal. Every bite he takes just fuels my irritation. For reasons I can’t explain, watching him eat makes my skin crawl and I can’t help but hate him even more.
Honestly, I’ve been angry at him all day. It doesn’t matter whether he says something or stays silent, his presence alone sets me off. Maybe it’s because he always manages to get his way, or maybe I’m just tired of him altogether. Either way, I can’t stand being around him right now.
Dinner’s been quiet, at least from my end. I haven’t said a word, but my mind is loud, spinning with questions, worries, and one name I can’t get out of my head… Erica.
Who is she? Or… am I her?
As I sit there, my eyes locked on Carlos shoveling food into his mouth, a wave of frustration hits me all over again. I’ve never felt this much anger towards a person behind.
As much as I hate to admit it, I honestly feel like strangling him until he tells me the truth about everything. I am so fed up with the games and secrets.
The more I kept my eyes on him, memories of my life before he stormed into it started flashing through my head, and I could feel the anger bubbling inside me.
I was fine. I was okay until he came along and turned everything upside down. And now here he is, eating like everything’s perfect. Like he didn’t make my life a living hell.
I hate him. I really do.
Carlos looked up and caught my stare. He paused mid-bite, then said, "The point of dinner is to eat, not glare at me."
I scoffed and looked away, not because I don’t have anything to say but because nothing I say will fix what’s breaking inside me. He can’t answer the questions I need answered.
As if he read my mind, his voice softened, just a little. "What’s going on with you?"
I don’t buy it. That hint of concern? It’s not real. He’s not worried, he’s just trying to figure out whether I’m unraveling yet, or if he needs to push a little more.
"Why aren’t you talking?" He asked again. "And why haven’t you touched your food?"
"I’m not hungry," I murmured, still angry at him. I lost my appetite the second I saw him, that look on his face is just so annoying
Carlos leaned back, wiping his hands on a napkin. "If you want something else, I can have the maid make it right now."
"No, thank you. I’m fine," I said, sharper this time. "I’m just not hungry."
He opened his mouth to speak, but I immediately cut him off. "And please, don’t try to force me to eat because whatever you do, I won’t."
He froze for a second, then his tone shifted. It was no longer casual, it was cold. "What happened?"
I stayed silent. How do I even begin to tell him I found a file-his file—on me? That I went through his things and found evidence that this whole thing is a mission. How can I possibly ask him about Erica.
I sighed heartily exhausted from all the thinking I’ve been doing.
Carlos leaned in, eyes narrowing slightly. "What happened, Nala?"
"Nothing," I said quietly.
He wasn’t convinced as he pressed further "I can tell something happened so just tell me."
I rolled my eyes. His fake concern is suffocating. "Nothing," I said again, louder this time.
He stood abruptly, walked over, and turned my chair to face him. His eyes were hard, locked onto mine as he leaned in and asked once more "What happened?" His voice is low, deadly serious.
I hold my ground, keeping my voice steady. "Nothing. Nothing happened."
I don’t know what part of that he doesn’t understand but it’s really annoying me.
He stayed silent, studying my face closely before finally speaking. "I believe by now you already know I know you more than you think. And the fact that you don’t want to eat your dinner tells me so much…" He said slowly, almost hesitantly, then added, "Something happened while I was at the meeting. And that something is what’s eating you up, making you upset… angry. You’re so upset that you can’t even eat."
He said it so perfectly, so truthfully, that I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him, stunned that he could read me so easily.
Again, he asked, "What happened, Nala?"
"I don’t know how many times I have to say nothing before you finally understand. But nothing happened, okay? Nothing. So just let me be."
I stood up, pushing the chair back harder than I meant to, and walked out of the dining room without looking back.
I went straight to the bedroom and screamed into the air, letting it all out. My lungs felt like they were on fire, and my head felt like it would explode. I was losing it.
Carlos is driving me insane. I can’t take another day in this house with him watching me, questioning me, pretending like he cares. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t care at all.
I screamed again, this time louder, collapsing to the floor in frustration. I felt so trapped that I could barely breathe.
I hated this version of myself. Angry. Sad. Scared. Confused. And worst of all—stuck.
I really need to get out of here.
I took my time to steady my breath and my emotions before I changed into my nightie and lay on the bed, hoping sleep would come and take me far away from all this.
Moments later, the door opened. I didn’t need to look to know it was Carlos.
Oh Lord, can’t I even have the night to myself?
He walked in and without a word, he climbed into bed next to me. I could feel him looking at me but I pretended to be asleep.
Carlos turned off the lights, and then I felt him reach for me, trying to pull me close. I immediately flinched away.
Not this time.
He paused, probably staring at me in the dark, before speaking. "You still don’t want to talk about it?"
"Goodnight, Carlos," I said, turning to face the other side of the bed.
Deep down, I was scared that my coldness might provoke him, might make him snap and do something terrible. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay.
I don’t want Carlos around me. I just want to be alone. I just want to be me again.