IV: Mr. Right

"Tell me how you cried?" Maya asked when I had just come out of the room. She was sitting at the dining table with her laptop in front of her.

I shrugged. "I'm not crying. No one cries." My aunt was crying hard, but it was just an act because after we got home and Grandma entered her room, she gave me the biggest smile ever.

"Your grandpa must be proud that you guys are that strong." She quipped.

I laughed. "Yeah, he didn't want anyone to cry when he died," I replied as I stepped towards the kitchen counter and made coffee.

Our apartment was a wide one-room style, so the living room and kitchen were only separated by a short partition. Then, there were only three rooms: my room, Maya's room, and the food storage.  It was so different from the shabby, cramped apartment we had in Juarez. I had tried to keep things different from what we had in Juarez five years ago.

"Do you want coffee?" I asked.

"No. I'll just buy it on my way to work."  She replied. "I've also made six sandwiches and cream corn soup for breakfast so you don't have to cook anymore."

I nodded.

This was the everyday life we had asked for, the one we had prayed for on those nights. Maya is a legal consultant working at a San Francisco law firm and doing a great job. I was an IT developer at a Managed Service Provider company, and despite the trivial stares of my family, I was doing well and making a good income that allowed me to pay for the basic things I needed.

But on the other side of us, there was a deep emptiness and void. Maya and I couldn't deny it. The emptiness was palpable, but we tried to be strong for each other. I would never make her feel sad, either.

"Did you get any news about them?" Maya asked as I sat across from her.

I shook my head. "Apparently they covered their tracks so well." I replied. "We know that they were afraid one of the Lopez's would find them. I'm sure they did that to the point of leaving no room for anyone."

Maya took a breath and let it out heavily.

"But I'll keep trying."

"I'm trying too." Maya replied. "But just like you, I am also at the end of a dead end."

"There are many other avenues we haven't tried yet. I'll make sure my brothers help."

Maya nodded. "So, how was your new project. Did it go well?"

I shrugged, eating her delicious cream soup. "It's kind of hard because... you know... they're very finicky." I said.

"The company is building a hotel in San Francisco, right?" 

I nodded. "Royal Palm. We were given the job of building their information system, which is... complicated. I wish it wasn't my team that took on this project."

"You've told me you wanted to buy your own car. This is the opportunity. You'll get a lot of bonuses since they're a big company, right?"

"Yes, I know. But I'm stressed."

"Just stop, then."

I gave Maya a sharp glance before refocusing on my food.

"What about Mark?" she asked again. The random change of topic annoyed me.

"He's fine. He's coming to San Francisco later this afternoon so I'll be home a little later since we're going on a date." I smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Ugh. As long as you don't make out in front of my eyes, it's fine." She said. "Keep him away from this flat too. You know that I'm allergic to men like that."

I don't know why Maya hates Mark. She always said she wanted me to get a good man, who was far from the man... from five years ago. But when I found Mark, she always spent time mocking him. She told me that Mark looked fake, but I didn't see anything fake about my boyfriend.

"I'll bring your favorite brownies later if you stop grumbling about Mark."

"That would be great, you're welcome."

I winced and shook my head to stop replying to her words.

"I'll eat this sandwich on the way." The streets of San Francisco were only jammed in a few spots, and luckily, the road to my office wasn't one of them. I could relax, but it was better to arrive early and wait than to arrive on time. I put two sandwiches in my lunch box and put them in my bag. "How do I look? My makeup? My clothes? Is it good?" I spun around in front of her.

She looked me up and down while wrinkling her nose. "That's normal. You were never pretty anyway."

I frowned. "I'm not buying you brownies."

Maya rolled her eyes before smiling falsely and forcedly. "You're so pretty that I think you're the newest bikini model in California."

I gave her a thumbs-up and then reached for my briefcase. "Good. Repeat it later." I quickly stood up from my seat and put on my bag. "Wish my meeting goes well."

She nodded. "I'll pray the opposite." She said.

I reached over and tugged on the end of her ponytail until she screamed, and then I ran out of the apartment. At least Maya's scream could wake me from the brink of sleepiness.

<<<

I met Mark Morelli in college. He became my mentor and TA. He was my senior even though we were the same age. I was two years late because I had to spend time on a mission that messed up my life five years ago.

From the first time I saw him, he's a guy who already fulfills my list. Kind, caring, and funny. He's no longer a green flag but a green forest. And forests are what I love. He was the guy I had a crush on during my time at Uni.

To top it off, he asked me to be his girlfriend when I had just graduated two years ago, and thankfully, nothing wrong happened during our time together.

I think the only reason relationships work well is communication and understanding each other. I always understand him when he's not call me, it's because of his work, and he also understands why I don't contact him for a few days because of the company's new project. There was no anger or fights. Our relationship was relatively healthy and mature even though I was in San Francisco, California, and he was in Seattle, Washington. We only see each other a few times a month, sometimes I'll come there, or he'll come here.

Right now, he's coming because he has a meeting with one of the new investors. Well, he had his own start-up e-commerce company that he'd built since college, and it was an added plus about how much I loved him that he'd built the company completely without using his family's privilege and wealth.

"How was the meeting? Going well?"

"Very smoothly." He nodded, still staring droolingly at the boiled crab in front of him. "They gave me a lot of capital to add new innovations."

I frowned, eating the clam I had separated from its shell as I said, "Actually... do I need to remind you that you're Mark Morelli?"

Morelli is the most affluent old-money family in the world. Their large company CDM, which stands for Casa Di Morelli, encompasses many businesses and industries. The biggest and most prestigious is their oil company.

That makes the Morelli family the wealthiest family in the world, but Mark is an exception to the stereotype about children of rich families. Instead of capitalizing on his family's wealth, he built something from scratch, relying on his intelligence and hard work. That was one of the things I admired most about him.

He chuckled, shrugging as he said, "I just wanted to make something that was truly mine, without the shadow of my family's big name. Besides, wouldn't it be nice if I could say that I accomplished this all by myself?"

"You know that I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Baby." He smiled, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye. "What about your client projects?"

I snorted. "Stressful as always. Well, it's still designing but I..." I shrugged. "You know they can be annoying sometimes. Even though I'm a software engineer, sometimes I feel sorry for the head of our team who is demanded by the client."

"Who is your client anyway?"

"Royal Palm. They're going to set up a new business. A hotel."

He frowned. "Royal Palm?"

I nodded. "You know them?"

"They're run by Magentic Matendo. You know, Michaelo Rossi."

I frowned. "I'm not interested in looking through business profiles, let alone companies, Mark." I knew the client's company but didn't want to look that far.

"Okay," he chuckled. "He's a friend of my brother's, and their company has a long history in Italy."

"Your brother, you mean, Tristan Morelli?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "You could have met because... well, the main investor in the hotel project is my big brother."

"Your brother is very rich and generous. I'm really curious what he looks like." I continued.

Tristan Morelli's stories could always intrigue anyone. I was inquisitive about the business conversations spun by socialite moms at some business parties. They often whispered that the billionaire was so handsome and charming they wanted to queue up to offer him their daughter to marry. Even Mark confirmed it himself.

His brother doesn't want to show his face in the media. Well, the life of any old money family is closed from any media. Until now, all we knew was his name. Even the faces of the Morelli family are never plastered anywhere. The only people who know them are private business parties.

But what handsome man could Tristan Morelli be? I thought his brother was already handsome with his two-part haircut, tall body, and tanned skin. His face is a good mix of classic retro looks. If he becomes a celebrity or a model, I'm sure he will easily navigate his career.

"Well, if you really want to meet him..." he smiled. "Let's go to my parents' wedding anniversary party in Los Angeles."

My cheerful features faded, replaced with shock. "What?"

"Mom is inviting you to their wedding anniversary party." He replied. "I told her about you."

"I... I..." I got off track. Didn't know what to answer him with.

He pulled something out of his pocket, and my eyes bulged when I saw what was there. He opened the red box, and a white-colored ring with a simple, plain design was there. I opened my mouth, catching my breath in a gasp, my heart beating chaotically.

"And I want to do this." His words came out soft. He rose from his seat and then knelt in front of me.

I froze as if the world around me had suddenly gone silent. My eyes were glued to his face, and my thoughts and feelings were mixed up. Mark looked at me with a warm smile.

"Jasmine de la Cruz, marry me?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

I sat with brutal tension, ignoring my fake last name that Papa had disguised.

I never thought... never predicted that I would feel this way. A proposal from a man.

I.. I don't know what I was thinking. Marriage was far from my plan. I was focused on work, and he was by my side to keep me company. That's all. But this... this is Mark Morelli. The man who loves me. Whose presence had also helped me to recover from my breakdown.

Marriage wasn't in the plan, but if it was him...

Yes, I'll take that.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I took a deep breath. The back of my eyes are burning, damn it. I prepared to let out the sacred words I never knew I would say.

"Yes, I do."

His smile widened, filled with happiness as if his heart couldn't contain it. With hands that I saw trembling slightly, he took the ring from the box and slipped it on my finger. The ring felt perfect as if it had been created for me.

Once the ring was on my finger, he lifted my hand and kissed it gently. "I'm so happy," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "We're going to face all this together, baby. I love you so much."

I laughed softly, feeling both relieved and filled with love. I stood up and then accepted his big hug. "Me too, Mark."

He hugged me tightly, and I felt as if the world belonged only to the two of us. All doubts, all fears, vanished in his warm embrace.

I knew then that he was the right man.