Chapter 5 The Choice to Fight

I was still struggling to wrap my head around the discoveries I had unraveled in the past few hours as I sat at the dining area in the Maine Resort. It was discreet, reserved only for family members, and Carlos had insisted we have lunch there after hearing the loud rumble of my stomach; just as we were about to begin a conversation about how Miss Pamela was his mother.

Today was certainly one of the most eventful days of my life, and one filled with the most painful revelations.

First, I discovered I was a broke housewife who had no assets or benefits in her name. Matthew had cleverly fooled me into signing away all my rights and entitlements as the wife of the Wellington Heir. To add salt to injury, he had been having an affair with Manhattan's District Attorney, a secret that, apparently, everyone knew.

Everyone except me.

And now, the man I had started to see as an ally turned out to be the son of Miss Pamela, my favorite college professor, who had strongly opposed my marriage from the very beginning. She had seen past Matthew's polished demeanor, pierced through his pretense, and recognized him for what he was: a terrible decision. Suddenly, it all made sense.

"You know, Mrs. Wellington, hunger kills faster than revenge," Carlos said lightly as he pushed a plate he had assembled minutes earlier in my direction.

"I'm not a baby, or an invalid. You don't have to fix a plate of food for me. I might have been fooled by my husband all these years, but that doesn't make me daft," I snapped, rubbing my temples as the words spilled out with more venom than I intended. I knew I was overreaching and transferring aggression to the wrong person.

"Take a breather, will you?" he replied calmly. " You need food to calm your nerves. Nothing soothes anger better than a bowl of pasta sprinkled with seafood, cheese, and bread. "

"I hate to burst your bubble, Carlos, but food is the least of my concerns right now. I feel like such a helpless fool. And your mother warned me... I was-"

"Sierra, I'm afraid there's no way I'm going to have this discussion until you eat first. Chef Paulo would be utterly disappointed if we let this good meal go to waste."

"Fine," I muttered, giving in grudgingly. The aroma of the meal rose warmly, rich and inviting. It looked nothing like the bland meals Matthew preferred, the ones I had forced myself to grow accustomed to over the years.

He called it the Wellington Cuisine. Mainly plain cooked and grilled meats, few carbs and vegetables, lots of vegetables with bland spices. I hadn't enjoyed a meal that looked this comforting in years. Matthew always monitored my diet and insisted on making me a forceful captive of the fit-fam train. He said gaining an extra pound would distort my form and make me unaesthetically pleasing.

And of course, I listened to him.

I was such a naïve woman.

I lifted the fork to my lips reluctantly, expecting nothing more than to fill my stomach. But the moment the pasta touched my tongue, a burst of flavor; savory, tangy, rich and delicious, hit me.

I froze, startled by the unfamiliar sensation.

Carlos smirked knowingly. "Good, isn't it?"

I swallowed quietly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a compliment.

"It's... edible," I muttered, though a hint of warmth crept into my voice.

"Edible? I doubt Chef Paulo would be impressed with that but, I'll take it" He wore a knowing smile on his face, leaning back in his chair.

A restrained smile was plastered on my face in response. It felt strange; wrong, almost, to smile after the wreckage of revelations I'd been through. But Carlos had a way of disarming me.

"Don't think you can charm me with food," I warned mildly, pointing my fork at him.

The meal brought back memories of home - home before Matthew.

"Life is so funny, isn't it? Still struggling to believe that you're the son of the woman who strongly advised me against this marriage. And she was right. Which makes me feel even more foolish."

Carlos leaned forward, his gaze softening. "Sierra, my mother never doubted your worth. She doubted him. There's a difference."

The words landed like balm on an open wound. I stared at him, caught off guard. For so long I had carried the shame of being blind, of not seeing Matthew for what he was. Hearing Carlos speak from such a thoughtful perspective about my dilemma was... unexpected. Comforting.

"You don't even know me," I said quietly.

"Maybe not fully," he admitted. "But you're a strong woman, Sierra. Strong enough to sit here, even after everything that's been thrown at you today. Most people would be curled up in bed, hiding. You're still fighting."

A lump rose in my throat, and I quickly looked down, twirling the pasta again to avoid his gaze. "Yeah... fighting and losing. Losing my marriage and sanity"

Carlos reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine lightly as he steadied the fork in my hand. The touch was brief, careful, but it sent an unexpected warmth up my arm. "Sometimes fighting may be as little as eating a meal you don't want. Or listening when you'd rather shut the world out. Small victories, Sierra. That's how strength is built."

I blinked at him, momentarily speechless. For the first time in what felt like forever, it felt like had support from someone else, and not just Maria.

"Fine," I whispered, finally taking another bite, this time without resistance. "But only because I don't want Chef Paulo disappointed."

Carlos grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Of course. We wouldn't want that."

For the first time since my world collapsed, I laughed. My voice sounded shaky and hesitant, but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

"Now, tell me. What brings you here?"

I hadn't relished any meal as much in months.

"You're telling me Matthew had you sign documents without understanding what they truly meant?" he asked, his tone low but sharp.

I nodded, shame prickling at my skin. "He said it was just some agreements to protect my entitlements as his wife and avoid unnecessary complications. I believed him. I wanted to be a good wife. I didn't even read the fine print. There was no time, I was compelled to make haste and sign"

Carlos muttered something under his breath in Spanish, then leaned closer. "That's not simplification, Sierra. That's entrapment."

I blinked, startled at the conviction in his voice. "Entrapment?"

"Yes. You were manipulated and coerced into signing those agreements, the implications of this are severe and those documents should be contested in court. I can introduce you to some of the finest legal professionals in the city who can file a lawsuit, with your permission of course "

My heart skipped. For the first time, the noose around my neck felt like it might loosen. "But even if that's true... what then? I can't fight him alone."

Carlos's gaze softened. "You won't have to. I can help you challenge this legally. But, Sierra..are you willing to fight?"

Emotion swelled in my chest, tangled with disbelief. "Why would you do that for me? You don't even-"

"I told you already," he cut in gently. "Some battles aren't meant to be fought alone. And Matthew... he's about to learn that he underestimated you."

Before I could respond, Carlos's gaze drifted to the photograph on the wall, Miss Pamela, the elegant woman in pearls, her expression calm and wise.

He tilted his head slightly. "You were quite close to her, right?"

The question caught me off guard, tugging at memories I hadn't touched in years.

"She was my professor," I said softly. "One of the few who believed I was short-changing myself by getting married to Matthew at such a young age. She pushed me, challenged me... she saw me." My voice faltered. "She saw my true potentials beneath even when no one else did, including myself."

Carlos leaned slightly on his chair, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"I sent her a message when you recognized her barely an hour ago. Told her I had run into you. She replied almost immediately."

Her brows drew together. "And?"

He turned the phone so I could see a few lines of the message.

His voice was quiet, and steady. Albeit compassionate at the same time.

"She said you were her favorite student. That she always knew Matthew would try to dim your light. And she asked me; no, she urged me, to help you. With everything I can."

My chest tightened, and my eyes stung with tears of regret and shame.

I remembered her voice; gentle yet unyielding, a voice that had once given me courage in lecture halls. And now, years after making such a terrible mistake, she was reaching me again.

Through Carlos

He set the phone down, his gaze steady. "So I'll ask you again, Sierra. Are you ready to fight him? To sue Matthew, to claim what you deserve, to tear off the mask and unveil Matthew Wellington as the heartless criminal he truly is? Because if you are, be rest assured that you won't be fighting alone"