Katrina

Chapter Four

STORY A — THE PRESENT

A PLACE TO HIDE

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Jason stood near the sofa, his attention drifting between Katherine and the little girl asleep in her arms. There were still too many questions in his head, too many things he wanted to demand answers to.

But Katherine looked exhausted.

Not simply tired from a long journey. There was something else in her expression, something that made her seem as though she had been carrying a weight far too heavy for far too long.

He hated that he noticed.

He hated even more that some part of him still cared.

"You should get some rest," he said eventually.

Katherine looked up. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are."

Her eyes narrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed. "You look like you could fall asleep sitting there, but if I point it out, you'll probably argue with me for another ten minutes."

"I don't argue that much."

He gave her a look.

Despite herself, Katherine almost smiled.

Almost.

The moment passed quickly, leaving them with the uncomfortable awareness of how familiar they still were with each other.

She adjusted Michelle against her shoulder.

"How is everyone?"

Jason frowned. "Everyone?"

"Your family." She hesitated. "Your mother. Your siblings."

"They're fine."

"And the twins?"

The question changed something in his expression.

Katherine noticed immediately.

"J.J. and Avery," she clarified, although she knew he understood perfectly well whom she meant.

"They're fine too."

She lowered her eyes to Michelle.

"How old are they now?"

Jason stared at her.

"You really need to ask me that?"

Her head lifted sharply.

"I know how old my children are."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because I haven't seen them in years, Jason!"

Her voice rose before she could stop it.

Michelle stirred, and Katherine immediately began rubbing her daughter's back until she settled again.

When she looked up, Jason was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.

"I know how long it's been," she said quietly. "I don't need you reminding me."

"Then don't ask me questions you already know the answers to."

"Maybe I wanted to hear you talk about them."

The words escaped before she could reconsider them.

Jason's expression tightened.

Katherine looked away.

"Do they still—" She stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "Are they happy?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"They're doing well."

"That's not what I asked."

"What do you want me to tell you, Katherine? That they miss you every day? That they ask where you are? That they remember everything?"

She flinched.

He looked away, jaw clenched.

"I don't know what they remember anymore."

For a moment, the room seemed to grow smaller.

Katherine had imagined this conversation countless times. She had imagined asking about J.J. and Avery, hearing their names spoken aloud, learning what they liked, what made them laugh, and what frightened them.

She had imagined a thousand ordinary things that mothers were supposed to know about their children.

Instead, she was sitting in front of their father, asking questions as though she were a stranger.

"They're my children too," she whispered.

Jason's eyes returned to hers.

"I know."

"Sometimes I wonder whether you do."

His expression hardened.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make me the villain every time we talk about the twins."

"I'm not."

"You just accused me of forgetting that they're your kids."

"Because sometimes it feels as though everyone expects me to pretend I never had them!"

Her voice broke on the last word.

She looked down quickly, embarrassed by the tears gathering in her eyes.

Jason remained silent.

The twins were a wound neither of them knew how to touch without hurting the other.

Their marriage had deteriorated, and the custody battle had left scars neither time nor distance had managed to heal. Katherine had lost custody of J.J. and Avery, and the years since had taught her to live with an absence she had never truly accepted.

Jason had his own pain. Whatever had happened between them, he had been the one left to raise their children while believing their mother was gone.

Neither of them had emerged from those years untouched.

"I'm not trying to take anything away from you," Katherine said at last. "I just wanted to know how they were."

Jason's expression softened slightly.

"They're all right."

She nodded, accepting the answer even though it wasn't enough.

"Good."

A silence settled between them.

Then Katherine glanced towards the door.

"I should go."

Jason's head lifted.

"Go where?"

"Somewhere I can find a place to stay."

"At this hour?"

"I'll manage."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

He stared at her for a moment before looking at Michelle.

"You're leaving with her?"

"Of course I'm leaving with her. She's my daughter."

"I know who she is, Katherine."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because someone has threatened her, and you just told me you believe those threats could extend to my family. Yet you're preparing to walk out of here without knowing where you're going."

"I'll find somewhere."

"Where?"

She pressed her lips together.

Jason waited.

When she didn't answer, he gave a humourless laugh.

"That's what I thought."

Her eyes flashed.

"I didn't come here to beg you for a place to stay."

"I didn't say you did."

"I came because I needed to warn you. You've been warned. I've told you what I know, and you've agreed to help. That's all."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you stood up?"

Katherine looked down.

She hadn't even realised she was still sitting there, clutching Michelle as though the little girl were the only thing keeping her steady.

Annoyance rose in her chest, partly at Jason and partly at herself.

"I don't need you to rescue me."

"Good, because I'm not trying to rescue you."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm trying to stop you from making a dangerous decision because you're too proud to admit you need somewhere safe to stay."

Her face went still.

For a moment, she couldn't find a response.

Jason's voice softened, although his expression remained serious.

"Someone knows about Michelle. You believe they might be willing to hurt your family to stop you from uncovering the truth. And you have no idea who might be watching you."

"I can take care of my daughter."

"I believe you."

"Then—"

"But taking care of her doesn't mean putting yourself in danger just to prove you don't need anyone."

Katherine looked away.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that she had survived without him, that she had managed far more difficult things than finding a place to sleep.

But Michelle shifted in her arms, her little fingers curling against Katherine's clothing.

And suddenly, the argument felt unbearably pointless.

This wasn't about Jason.

It wasn't about what she owed him or what he thought of her.

It was about making sure Michelle was safe.

"Just for tonight," Katherine said quietly.

Jason studied her.

"Stay as long as you need to."

"Don't make this more than it is."

"I won't."

"And this doesn't mean—"

"I know what it doesn't mean, Katherine."

She fell silent.

He didn't look particularly pleased with her, but he didn't press the matter either.

"There's a guest room upstairs," he said. "You and Michelle can use it."

Katherine nodded reluctantly.

He stepped aside to let her rise, then led the way towards the hallway.

As they walked, Katherine glanced towards the dining room.

"Does your family know I'm here?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Eventually."

"Jason—"

"I'm not hiding you, Katherine. I'm trying to work out how to explain that the woman everyone believed was dead has suddenly appeared in my house with a child and a story that could turn our lives upside down."

She winced.

"When you put it like that, it sounds rather dramatic."

"It is dramatic."

Despite herself, a faint smile touched her mouth.

"You're still insufferable."

"And you're still avoiding the point."

For one fleeting moment, the exchange felt almost like old times.

Then they reached the staircase, and the familiarity disappeared beneath everything that had happened between them.

Jason led her upstairs, careful to keep his footsteps quiet.

Michelle remained asleep against Katherine's shoulder.

Neither of them noticed the person approaching from the other direction until it was too late.

Avery was walking down the stairs.

She glanced towards the hallway, then stopped.

Jason stood beside Katherine, one hand resting on the guest room door.

And Katherine was there.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Avery had seen them.

______________________________________________

CHAPTER FOUR

WHERE LOVE BEGINS TO FRACTURE

STORY B — THE PAST

Miramar, Havana, Cuba

The smell of warm bread, roasted pork, and melted cheese drifted through the Mendoza dining room.

Susan had insisted on preparing more food than anyone could reasonably eat. Plates of medianoche sandwiches sat beside bowls of salad, fried plantains, and little dishes of sauce. A pitcher of fresh guava juice rested in the middle of the table, already attracting the attention of the younger children.

It was supposed to be a simple family evening.

Rafael had invited the McAllisters to dinner, insisting that their families spent too much time discussing business and not enough time enjoying each other's company.

Edward had agreed immediately.

Now, as the adults gathered around the table, she sat beside Edward with one hand resting on her glass and the other adjusting the bracelet around her wrist.

Across from her, Susan was trying to persuade the triplets to eat before reaching for dessert.

"Sebastián, you cannot survive on juice alone."

"I can," he announced confidently.

Camila giggled.

Katrina, who had been carefully separating the filling from her sandwich, looked up.

"Can I have his sandwich if he doesn't want it?"

"No," Susan replied without looking at her.

"But you said he should eat. And he doesn't want to."

"He will."

"He doesn't want it. Why can't I have it?"

Rafael laughed, reaching over to ruffle Katrina's hair.

"Because your mother is the only person at this table who knows how much food three little children can actually eat."

"Four," Gabriel corrected from his seat.

Everyone looked at him.

He pointed proudly at Isabella, who was sitting in Susan's arms.

"She's a child too."

"You're quite right, my boy," Edward said. "Though I suspect Isabella is more interested in eating the tablecloth than the sandwich."

As if she understood him, Isabella reached towards the corner of the tablecloth.

Susan caught her little hand just in time.

Laughter filled the room.

For a moment, Anna watched the families around her and tried to summon the warmth everyone else seemed to feel so effortlessly.

She loved her children. That much had never been in question.

She loved Jason's determined little frown, Ethan's endless questions, and Heather's habit of falling asleep against her shoulder. She loved the sound of their laughter and the way Edward's face softened whenever he looked at them.

But she had begun to wonder whether love was supposed to be enough.

She watched Edward lean towards Jason, helping him cut a sandwich into smaller pieces. He spoke patiently, listening as their son explained something with great seriousness.

Edward was a good father.

A good husband, too, in the ways people could easily see.

He never embarrassed her in public. He trusted her opinions. He had built a life with her and spoke about their future as though it were something they would always share.

Yet Anna sometimes felt as though she were living inside a life that had been decided for her.

The house was beautiful. Their children were healthy. Their business was successful.

And still, she wanted more.

Not merely more money.

More freedom. More influence. More of a life that belonged to her rather than one she had entered as Edward's wife.

She had never said any of that aloud.

It sounded ungrateful when she put it into words.

"Anna?"

She blinked.

Susan was looking at her from across the table.

"Would you like some more juice?"

"No, thank you."

"You hardly touched your food."

"I've eaten enough."

Edward glanced at her.

"Are you feeling all right, mi amor?"

Anna gave him the smile she had perfected over years of marriage.

"Of course. I'm just tired."

He reached beneath the table and squeezed her hand.

"Then we should go home early."

There was no irritation in his voice. No suspicion. Only concern.

For some reason, that made her feel worse.

"Let's not be rude to our hosts," she replied lightly. "We haven't even finished dinner."

Susan returned to her conversation with Rafael, apparently satisfied.

Edward continued eating.

Anna looked down at their joined hands before gently withdrawing hers to reach for her glass.

She told herself there was nothing wrong with wanting a different life.

Wanting more did not make her a bad mother.

Wanting independence did not mean she didn't love Edward.

And surely, she thought, a woman could love her husband and still refuse to spend the rest of her life standing in his shadow.

---

Later that evening, the children had been moved into the sitting room while the adults finished their coffee.

Jason and Ethan were arguing over a wooden toy Rafael had given them. Gabriel was trying to convince Sebastián that his newest drawing was better than anything either of his brothers could produce. Camila had abandoned the argument entirely and was following Katrina around the room.

Heather slept in her mother's arms.

Anna stood near the open window, listening to the adults discuss an upcoming expansion of M&M Grand Hotels.

The conversation had started innocently enough.

Rafael was explaining that one of their hotel properties required substantial renovations. Edward was considering how to distribute the investment without putting too much pressure on their other operations.

"We could postpone the project until next year," Edward said. "There's no reason to stretch ourselves unnecessarily."

Rafael shook his head.

"If we wait too long, someone else will take the opportunity."

"Then we'll have to decide whether the opportunity is worth the risk."

Anna turned towards them.

"Why not bring in outside investors?"

Both men looked at her.

She continued before either could respond.

"Not enough to give anyone control, obviously. But there are people who would be interested in putting money into a project like this. People who could help the business expand more quickly."

Rafael considered the suggestion.

"It's possible, but we would need to be careful about whom we allowed into our affairs."

"Naturally," Anna said. "I'm not suggesting we hand the company to strangers."

Edward smiled at her.

"That's an interesting idea. We can look into it."

The conversation moved on.

Anna remained by the window, but her attention had sharpened.

She knew more about the business than either man sometimes remembered. She understood the hotels, the investments, the properties, and the decisions that determined who held power over them.

She had listened to years of discussions at the dinner table. She had watched Edward and Rafael negotiate agreements, settle disagreements, and trust each other with decisions that affected their families' futures.

She had learned that a successful business was not simply about owning valuable things.

It was about controlling the decisions made about them.

And control, she was beginning to realise, could be obtained in more ways than one.

"Anna?"

Edward's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She turned.

"Yes?"

"We're going to head home shortly. Would you like to say goodnight to Susan?"

"Of course."

She crossed the room and embraced Susan warmly.

"Thank you for dinner. Everything was lovely."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Anna kissed her cheek, then turned towards the children.

Jason ran to her first.

"Mum, can we stay longer?"

"Not tonight, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"Because it's late."

"It's not that late."

Edward laughed as he joined them.

"Your mother has spoken, young man."

Jason looked at his father, searching for support.

Edward crouched beside him.

"We'll visit again soon. I promise."

The boy accepted this with a reluctant nod.

Anna watched Edward lift Heather's sleeping body into his arms while she gathered the children's belongings.

For a brief moment, she felt the familiar pull of affection.

This was her family.

Whatever else she wanted, these people were hers to love.

Then Edward kissed her forehead and whispered, "Thank you for coming tonight. I know you've been tired lately."

She looked at him.

He wasn't accusing her of anything. He wasn't asking questions she couldn't answer.

He was simply trying to understand her.

Anna kissed him back.

"You're welcome, mi amor."

And as they left the Mendoza home, she wondered how long she could keep pretending that the life he offered was enough.

---

The house was quiet when they returned.

The children were taken upstairs, and Edward remained in their bedroom, checking on them before coming back down to join Anna.

She had changed out of her dinner dress and was sitting at the dressing table, removing her earrings.

He leaned against the doorframe.

"Can I ask you something?"

She met his eyes in the mirror.

"Of course."

"Have I done something to upset you?"

Her fingers stopped.

"What?"

"You've seemed distant lately."

She placed one earring on the dressing table.

"I'm tired, Edward. That's all."

"You've said that before."

"Because it's true."

He walked into the room.

"I'm not trying to argue with you. I just want to know if something is wrong."

Anna turned in her chair.

"Must something be wrong every time I want a little space?"

"No."

"Then why can't you simply accept that I'm tired?"

He studied her face.

"Because I know you."

The words were gentle.

They irritated her more than a sharp accusation would have.

"You know the woman you married," she replied. "That doesn't mean you know every thought in my head."

Edward went quiet.

For a moment, Anna wondered whether she had gone too far.

Then he nodded.

"You're right."

The answer took some of the force out of her anger.

He sat beside her.

"I don't expect you to tell me everything immediately. But I don't want you feeling as though you have to carry something alone."

Anna looked at him.

There was no cruelty in him. No deliberate attempt to diminish her. He had never asked her to abandon her ambitions or become someone she wasn't.

That was what made her dissatisfaction so difficult to explain.

Edward had given her a good life.

She simply no longer knew whether she wanted the life he had given her.

"I'm all right," she said quietly.

He searched her expression, then nodded.

"All right."

He kissed her forehead and stood.

"I'm going to check the locks downstairs."

When he left, Anna remained seated before the mirror.

She listened to his footsteps fading along the corridor.

She could have called him back.

She could have told him that she felt trapped, that she wanted more say in the future of their business, that she was tired of being treated as though her place in the world had already been decided.

But she didn't.

Because she wasn't sure he would understand.

And because, somewhere beneath her resentment, she knew he would try to help her.

He would make room for her. He would compromise. He would trust her.

He would give her another chance to be happy beside him.

Anna wasn't certain she wanted another chance.

---

The following morning, she visited one of the hotel's offices under the pretext of reviewing a few documents.

She had done it before. Nobody questioned her presence there.

The staff knew who she was, and the managers were accustomed to answering her questions. She spoke to them pleasantly, asked about the property's finances, and made a few notes about the proposed expansion.

Nothing about the visit seemed unusual.

But before leaving, she asked for a copy of a document concerning the company's ownership arrangements.

The employee hesitated.

"Would Mr. McAllister like to approve that request, ma'am?"

Anna smiled.

"There's no need to trouble him over a routine document. I'm his wife, and he asked me to get them, he's had so much on his plate lately"

"Of course, ma'am. I only wanted to be certain."

"Naturally."

She waited while he prepared the copy.

When he handed it to her, she thanked him and slipped it into her folder.

The document contained nothing she couldn't have requested openly.

It was the questions she had begun asking herself that she kept private.

What would happen if Edward could no longer make decisions for the company?

Who would control the shares?

Who would have the authority to manage the properties?

And how much of that authority could be secured before anyone realised what she intended to do with it?

She had no answers yet.

Only questions.

But for the first time, she was no longer content to leave them unanswered.

As she stepped outside, the morning sun fell across the street. The city was already awake, filled with the sound of passing cars and distant voices.

Anna paused beside her vehicle and opened the folder.

She studied the document for a few seconds before closing it again.

She had not made a decision.

Not a final one.

She still loved Edward in her own way. She loved her children. She knew that any choice she made would change their lives, perhaps in ways she could not predict.

But she also knew that love and security were not the same thing.

And she was beginning to understand that if she wanted a different future, she might have to arrange it herself.

Anna placed the folder on the passenger seat and got into the car.

By the time she drove away, her expression had settled into its familiar, pleasant calm.

No one looking at her would have guessed that anything had changed.

Not Edward.

Not Rafael.

Not even Susan.

But something had shifted.

And once Anna began considering the possibility of a life beyond Edward's trust, she found it increasingly difficult to imagine returning to the woman she had been before.