Selena

Thirteen missed calls later.

'Hit me', I answered Morello's call, rushing out of the shower.

'Selena', Morello sighed in relief, 'thank God you're okay'.

'Why? Is everything okay?'

'Remember the mob of tyrants that have been at us for months? We think they were around here. We heard a woman was just murdered'. Eyes almost bulging out of my sockets, I gasped. They assumed I was the one killed.

'Who was murdered?' Eleven of my missed calls came from Sergio, and the rest from others at work.

'We don't know ye –'

'Selena?! I called you a hundred times!' the voice changed.

'Sergio?' he must've snatched Morello's phone. In the heat of the commotion, they sounded out of breath, 'where's Layla? Where's my daughter?'

'She's... with me'.

'Why is she with you?! Don't tell me you're bringing her to the crime scene –'

'She's...' now Sergio was reluctant to speak, '...at my house –'

'You left her at home, alone?!'

'With Amy'. I could not believe this. Quickly, I started to get dressed.

'Layla was supposed to stay at Rita's so I could pick her up!'

'She's my daughter too just in case you forgot. I don't need your permission'.

'See! This is exactly why I don't want her with you. You think you can make up the rules as you go along'.

'Selena –'

'Next time she stays at Rita's –'

'Selena!' his voice became poignant. Then there was silence. 'Rita's dead'.

I gasped. Then dropped my phone, shivering in shock-horror.

In real-time, I could imagine the dread that weighed on him. Unlike his real mother, Rita was the closest mother figure he had, the one who took him to the city of Bluebridge, who kept an eye on him.

Rita was the only woman I entrusted to babysit my daughter. The very day Sergio decisively collected Layla, was the day Rita was murdered by a member of the mob. If it wasn't for his decision, my daughter also would've been dead.

It was more than a coincidence. It was like God planned it.

On the day of the funeral I sat three pews behind the front row in the church.

To my surprise, Michael was present. At the end of the funeral, while the pews were emptying out, he went to give Sergio a hug and said a few words. Priscilla was at his side, also offering her condolences. Kai and Morello were also by him.

One by one, they started to leave, but when Priscilla crossed me, she froze. She looked like she wanted to tell me something, but she said nothing, and continued down the aisle.

Michael was the last to leave Sergio alone.

'Hi Selena', he greeted me at my pew.

'Sup', I replied. My arms folded and fixed position made him feel unwelcomed. He shook his head.

'How are you and Layla keeping?' he asked.

'Keep your money, Mike. I don't want it'.

'Wow, I was only asking how you were –'

'Yeah, but I know where it's going'.

'That's a response I didn't expect', his voice was deep and condescending, 'since the last I heard your daughter had outstanding school fees, and you couldn't even afford to pay Rita for the last few months she was alive'.

'I will figure out a way to deal with my own problems', I grouched, 'but in the meantime I hope you and my sister make great babies'.

'Thank you. We've already started', he scoffed back, 'and I wish you luck with your financial endeavours'.

'Fuck you, Mike', I snapped, loud enough for the priest and some attendees to react to. Nodding his head and smiling pretentiously, he left.

Alone at the front, Sergio sat unbothered by all the background commotion, staring at the altar, or into space.

Quietly, I approached the pew he sat on, then sat next to him. As stiff as a statue, he sat expressionless, just as he did throughout the whole funeral.

Without even knowing what to say, I awkwardly rubbed the edge of his shoulders. Almost instantly, he burst into tears and fell to his knees.

To appear not weak, he left his pain and sadness concealed, waiting to erupt in the end when everyone was gone. While he wept on the ground, I was stuck not knowing what to do. No one was nearby for some kind of assistance.

Just seeing him so defeated, made me tear up.

Politics. That's all it was. It didn't take me a lot of digging to discover the malicious mob that Bluebridge police were being attacked by... had a collaborator. Tremaine Pearson, A.K.A Trepp, an incarcerated gang leader was able to communicate to his men from the inside.

Trepp, Michael's high school bully, had a perpetual grudge against Sergio.

In complete vengeance, Trepp plotted the death of Rita. But through the mob, this was disguised as a political murder. "Murderers deserve to pay" was the graffiti written over the windows of Rita's house. Trepp considered Rita to be strategic collateral, enough to trigger Sergio, reminding him of the Cleo incident.

And it worked. Trepp had overplayed his hand, to a degree even Michael was grieved by. He took it too far.

'You're saying Michael wasn't behind this?' Sergio asked, sitting across me by the dining table, 'it wasn't part of his... revenge?'

'No', I replied, 'Trepp acted completely independent from Michael'.

'Right', Sergio nodded, them bowed his head, 'thanks for investigating for me'. Hands in his leather jacket pockets, he was heavily reclined over the dining chair, very drowsy.

'Of course'. Although he seemed okay, I couldn't begin to imagine the heaviness of these compiled events Sergio endured. But as much as staying away from his old job made him feel happier, I couldn't stand watching him throw his potential away to a low-paid customer service job. 'Sergio, there's something I really want to share with you –'

'Me too – I mean...' attentively, he sat up, '... I have something I need to share with you'. His face was very serious.

'Okay... you go first', I offered him the first speech.

'Thank you, erm...' slowly, he leaned up from his drowsy recline and straightened up. 'I know you've recently been through a lot with Michael, but I... don't see myself with anyone else'.

'What? what do you mean?'

'I love you', he said for the first time. Feeling my face suddenly itch of heat, I straightened up.

Compared to Michael, Sergio was blunt. Unpolished, not as subtle, or wise, not as affluent, or rich...

But unlike Michael, he was bold.

Mostly, they were alike. If I could quench my thirst with love, Michael was sex-on-the-beach, and Sergio was sex-on-the-beach on steroids.

Michael was the master of etiquette. Romantic. He knew all the right words to say at the right time. Life lived with Michael was aesthetic. But his introverted nature made him complex to predict.

As for manners, Sergio had almost none. Extroverted and care-free, he was the socialite. And in contrast, he was easy to predict, and not so good at secrets. Unlike prim and proper Michael, he was raw.

After seconds of zoning out, I was honed back in by the small box Sergio had pulled out and opened.

A ring.

'Sergio... I... this...' overwhelmed by his proposal, I couldn't formulate a clear response, 'you want to – marry me?'

'Yes', he replied, 'it just makes sense – after all that's happened, and Layla'.

'No!' I shrieked.

'No?'

'I mean – I don't know – about this. Sorry'. To avoid being influenced by his glimmering eyes, I gazed out the window.

'Okay', he recoiled, nodding in disappointment. Then he stood and grimly walked away.

The next day, I made an impromptu visit to Sergio's house on my break.

'Hello?' I knocked. Layla's over-excited voice approached from inside.

'Hi', the first person to open the door was Amy. Layla ran through her to hug me, 'sorry. I thought giving her candy would leave me alone. I was wrong'.

'He told you to babysit Layla again?' I asked. Amy nodded, popping her bubble-gum. I shook my head, 'where is he?'

'I don't know', Amy shrugged.

'Help me out here. You lived with him for six months plus. Do you think you have an idea where he might be?'

'Oh yeah', she scoffed, confidently. I smiled, then bowed my head.

'Okay, good', I uttered, moving over to the kitchen counter to take a seat, 'listen, erm... I didn't really get the chance to properly apologise to you for the damage I caused. I nearly got a man's life destroyed for a crime I committed, and an innocent women died... all because of me'.

'Yeah... welp...' Amy restrained for saying much of what she thought. The topic made her uncomfortable.

'If you never forgive me, I'll understand. But I can't express enough how sorry I am'.

'It's okay', she replied, shaking her head.

'I'm indebted to you. If there's anything you ever need, just ask me. I owe you that much'.

'A pay rise would be a nice place to start?' she snapped, talking about her babysitting my daughter. I smiled, then went to hug her tight in my arms.

But unexpectedly, I wept. One by one, every misfortunate event occurring like dominos brought me back to the initial cause. I had started something I would never be able to undo.

I drove down to the city park, by the riverside. Quiet and serene, it was a good place to be alone, away from the noise. By the river, I sat on a bench.

In a tight grey gym sweater with half sleeves and long shorts, I spotted Sergio jogging towards me in the distance. Upon noticing me he slowed down, perplexed. Then, he removed his earphones.

'Selena?' he panted, catching his breath, 'what – how did you know I was here?'

'Amy told me you like to jog here in the evenings'.

'Didn't know you two were speaking again'.

'Yeah, well', I shrugged, cleared my throat then pulled out a file from my jacket, 'about yesterday, when I said I wanted to share something with you, I didn't get to'.

'What's this?'

'Head of Special Investigations Unit is looking for a new leader –'

'No', he snapped, fitting his earphones back into his ear.

'Wha – okay, wait! Give it a chance, okay? You haven't even seen the proposal. It's not the same'.

'Have you come here...' he paused, then scoffed to himself, '... to ask me to apply for a job?'

'The department is expanding, more staff, with a newer, bigger office, and you're more than qualified to take the role. Salary begins at 100k'. When he heard the starting salary, he became still. But his stillness quickly grew to anger and disappointment at my proposal.

'What part of no don't you understand?' he grunted.

'If you don't take this job, it would be a big opportunity missed'.

'Do I need to say it in Portuguese?'

'You wanna be the man of the house, without money?' I ranted, 'how do you plan to take care of Layla, and – me?'

'What?'

'You need money! Listen to me for once in your life! I'm just trying to help. Unfortunately you're not as successful as Michael, and if you're gonna marry me –'

'Hold on', he stopped me, 'I'm returning the ring today'.

'You – what?' I was caught off guard, 'when?'

'Right after this', he sighed, 'I don't get you, Selena. You said no'.

'No – I didn't say no. I just said I need time to think about it, you know?'

'So... you're saying yes?'

'Yes – on one condition', I negotiated, holding the file to his chest, 'take the job'. Sergio's face went red.

'So if I said no, you just wouldn't marry me?'

'No – erm... Yes, but...'

'Selena', he took a deep breath, 'I proposed to you because I love you, not so we could do some stupid job together'. Filled with disappointment, he frowned. 'The deal is off'.

'Yeah, okay. Well...' without Sergio realising I had pick-pocketed him, I held up the ring and shoved it on my finger as fast as possible, 'too late! It's on me now', I whined.

'Huh?' his eyes bulged open, then he patted his pockets, 'Selena, give it back'.

'Do we have a deal now?' I grinned walking backwards.

'This is not a game!' Sergio broiled walking forward, 'I'm serious'.

'Yeah, me too', every time he attempted to snatch the ring from me, I dodged. As he got faster, I started running.

Surprised to see he kept up with me, I jogged up a steep, grassy hill. Full of unwavering determination he tailed me. Finally, he caught my leg, and tripped me up.

'Ah!' I squealed, falling to my stomach. Forcing my weight down, he climbed over me. With all my might, I held the ring to my chest. While he man-handled me, trying to twist my body forward, I twisted and sat on the hand with the ring.

Stooped over my body, he forced his arms under my bottom. Then, I stretched my arm as far away from me as possible. For about a minute, he wrestled with me.

'Argh!' he growled finally conceding, 'you are the biggest headache I've ever had to deal with! You...'

'So is the deal back on?' I huffed and puffed out of breath. Dripping with sweat, his face was burning red. Millimetres apart, the tips of our nose almost touched. He sighed.

'Fine'.