“I don’t know, I haven’t been able to get the damn thing open. Probably pictures of some old people I don’t know, so I’m not that worried about it. I mean, I don’t ever want to leave him anyway, but no, it’s not an option.”
“That used to be my life. When Vince and I first got together—well, when Mateo first met me—I was in that same predicament with Vince. I didn’t get a necklace out of it, but Mateo made it so if Vince ever got sick of me…” She draws a solemn line across her neck, indicating her death.
“Ew,” I say, frowning.
She nods. “It’s not like that anymore, now we’re just in a normal relationship, but yeah, that kind of pressure was not easy to deal with. I always thought being with Mateo would’ve been that kind of pressure every single day of your life. Like, just this suffocating fear and paranoia. He’s so much and how does one woman sustain him?”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that at all.”
“I was convinced it would’ve been.”
I watch as she takes another sip of her wine, considering her words. “Do you mean for anyone, or for you? Were you entertaining the idea of a relationship with Mateo?”
“I did, briefly, a couple times. At one point, Vince did get sick of me. Mateo’s fault, but I thought Vince didn’t want me anymore, and this was before Mateo freed me, so I was pretty much out of options. If Vince didn’t want me, Mateo was gonna kill me—unless he was still toying with me, then I got a reprieve for however long. But, yeah. If Vince and I wouldn’t have patched things up, I probably would’ve ended up with Mateo.” Grinning, she sways toward me. “Guess it’s a good thing that didn’t happen, huh?”
I’m not sure if I wish I was drunk with her or not, but this conversation would probably be more fun with alcohol flowing through my veins. “How did that… I mean, how did he free you?”
“I fucked my way out,” she states without hesitation. “You know how when you’re in a gang and you want out, everybody beats the shit out of you, and if you survive, you’re out? Well, Mateo’s the whole gang, but I survived him and he gave me my freedom for it.”
“He’s a swell guy that way,” I remark.
She snorts. “Swell, yeah. Don’t talk to Vince about that though, he doesn’t know I voluntarily slept with Mateo to get us out. Or, he might, but we pretend he doesn’t.”
“Mateo didn’t hit you though?” I ask, to be sure, given her example.
Scowling, she verifies, “No, just an analogy. I don’t think he’s angry enough to hit women. I’ve never seen him that angry until he thought you cheated. Oh, buddy.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t take infidelity well.”
“No one does, he just has unchecked power. In the throes of fresh betrayal, no one should have Mateo’s power. If Vince did, he would’ve wiped Mateo out a long time ago.”
“Not you?”
She shakes her head, grabbing her wine. “He knew it wasn’t my fault. I mean, he acted like it was, but what could I really do?”
“Not cheat?” I return lightly.
“I didn’t have—” She stops, frowning, and then nods, a little more grounded. “Yes. You’re right, that would’ve been the right thing to do. But I had to get us out of this house, and he Indecent Proposal’d me, and I said fuck it.”
I shrug, shifting my position on the couch. “I’m not here to judge. Obviously, you and Vince worked it out, and I’m glad.”
“I’m not, like, a cheater. It’s just, he’s Mateo.”
I smile faintly, nodding. “I understand. I’ve never cheated, but I’m glad I didn’t meet Mateo when I was married.”
“Right?” Her eyes widen. “He’s like a force of nature. There’s just something about him.”
“You still think so?”
“Of course. I mean, obviously not that I would act on, but that’s why I had to get out of this house. I’ve never met someone who had such a magnetic pull. Even though you know what he is, and you know he’s terrible for you, you can’t help being just… drawn to him. Right?” She looks to me for validation.
I nod sympathetically. “Yeah, I wouldn’t disagree.” Not super thrilled that she still feels it, but hey. Whatever, right?
“Vince is so much easier to handle. When I first met him I thought he was scary, but then I met Mateo. Now Vince feels like… gentle ocean waves lapping around you after a goddamn hurricane.” Cutting her eyes to me very seriously, she says, “Mateo is the hurricane.”
“I surmised as much.”
“Vince is great,” she says, all dreamy now. “I love Vince.”
“Do you love Mateo?”
She’s had enough wine not to shut me right down, and she takes a moment to think about it. “Yeah, I guess I do. Not the way you do,” she adds, even drunk. “Not the same way I love Vince, but… I don’t want him to be lonely, even when he’s an ass and he deserves it. I want him to be happy. I care about him. I don’t know if I have Stockholm syndrome or I just feel like he’s family,” she tells me, grinning. “But when I realized you were making him happy, I was so glad.”