Page 26 of Mariposa (Queens Command #1)

I can’t listen to “We Belong Together” without thinking about you.

Every time it plays in the restaurant, it takes me back to the night you stayed until closing time.

And we slow-danced to the entire song in an empty diner, just the two of us, until midnight.

That was the night you first kissed me. Do you remember that night?

Because I sure do. As soon as the song finished, I looked into your iridescent light eyes, and you kissed me, making me feel like a princess with her knight in shining armor.

Your hands on my waist, our souls intertwined for a short moment, have been permanently engraved into my dreams. That’s when I knew Graham Huntings wasn’t just a man I shared a connection with.

That’s when I knew you were worth waiting for.

All my love,

Grace

I fold the letter, and my abuelita smiles. Usually, after I finish a letter, my grandmother will go on and on about the events, but this time, something has changed. A flicker of the past lingers in her eyes as she loses herself in the depths of her thoughts.

“Grandma? Everything okay?” I place my hand on hers, gently over her wrist, so I’m not touching the IV.

She’s silent as she stares at the door intensely. Her expression changes into an unsettling, confused one. Her brows pinch together as she bends her upper body forward, trying to get up.

“Is he here right now? Graham? Are you back?” She slowly straightens and sits up weakly. She reaches for her cane, but the same male nurse, with widened eyes, comes rushing in.

“What’s happening? Is she okay? Nurse? Is she okay?” I ask.

“Violet, I think you should go now,” he tells me as he consoles my grandmother.

“What the hell? I’m not leaving her like this.” Standing up from the chair, I rush to her other side. I rub her back in circles. This is the first time I’ve ever witnessed her in a frantic state.

Does she think she’s nineteen again?

“Ms. Isla, if you’d like to wait until she calms down, I can speak to you outside and fill you in. I haven’t seen you here in almost a year. Has anyone told you about the state of her condition?”

“I’ve been in training! I’m not going anywhere right now.

Just tell me what to do to help!” My stomach churns as I dart my gaze from my grandma to the nurse who is trying to keep her sitting in the bed while she finishes her medicine.

She continues to call out Graham’s name erratically.

She’s seconds away from becoming violent.

“I don’t think you want to have this conversation in front of her,” he says, as he struggles to calm her.

“Just tell me! What’s going on with her?”

“Your grandmother’s condition has worsened drastically. She only has months before we transfer her to hospice or to pass away at home with her loved ones.”

Broken sweat beads underneath my clothing as the news overtakes my emotions like I’ve been hit by a train.

She can’t leave me. Not right now. Please, God, no.

I can’t lose her. She’s a literal piece of my soul.

“No,” I sputter, my lips and jaw threatening to lock up.

I deny this.

“Sometimes she hallucinates and starts asking for her mother, and sometimes your grandpa. But most of the time, it’s a man named Graham. Who is Graham? Is he an uncle or a cousin?”

“He’s…” I shake my head. “She told me he was her first love. She wanted me to read her these letters because they always put her in a good mood.”

He nods understandingly.

“Mrs. Isla, lie down. Rest.” The nurse cups her hair gently.

“ No dejame en paz . Quiero bailar con Graham. Dejame bailar con el, por favor . Dime que está aquí !” No, leave me alone. I want to dance with Graham. Let me dance with him, please. Tell me that he’s here!

Her face reddens, agony written in all of her creased, aged features. My heart cracks and aches as I try to console and remind her of reality.

“Grandma, please, it’s okay.” My voice cracks.

She’s going to die soon , and she’s not begging to see her husband. She’s begging to see a man she fell for as a teenager.

She tries to scratch off the IV that’s hooked inside her veins. Her nails dig into her skin, leaving a trail of red marks.

“Where am I? What’s this? Why am I here?!” she shouts, sobbing, looking around the room in circles—every corner is scoured while she fights the nurse. He stumbles a couple of times as she pushes him off her when he’s only trying to keep her from hurting herself.

Think, Violet, think !

I swallow with determination.

“Graham’s on his way, abuelita . I promise you. Trust me.”

This catches her attention. She stops moving, with hope flashing through her. Her muscles relax, and she stops trying to get out of bed. She lets the nurse lift her socked feet until her back touches the pillow as she keeps her gaze locked on me.

“He’s coming, Grandma. Watch that door, okay? He’ll walk in any second.”

She slowly lifts her shaking chin toward the closed door, her brows knitting.

“I’ve been waiting for him… for so long .” A tear rolls down her cheek before she zeroes in on the door. “Do I look pretty? Do I look okay?”

A sinking hole burrows into my stomach.

Her breathing slows, and the nurse gives me a comforting tilt with his head to keep going. The heart monitor’s riotous beeping slows down to a normal pace.

“Yes, please lie down. He’s on his way.” My heart gallops with uncertainty. I feel like a liar, and a disgusting feeling swirls in my chest with the way it makes my grandma so happy.

“I knew it! He promised we would dance again. He promised me a day on the beach.”

“Is that your guys’ song? ‘We Belong Together’?” I grab her teddy bear and tuck it onto her lap as her panic attack slowly subsides with each heavy breath.

“Yes. He’s coming to dance with me, right? He said he would.”

“Yes. Just lie down, please,” I beg.

“Okay, mija . I’ll lie down. If I fall asleep, please wake me. I don’t want to miss this.”

“Yes, Grandma.”

She slides back down into her bed fully, after letting me take her cane away. I hadn’t noticed my eyes were overflowing with tears until one falls onto the hospital bed. I run the white blankets over her and stop at her abdomen. The nurse gives me a reassuring look with a warm curve of his lips.

God, I hate that these moments are full of pain. I wish whoever the hell Graham is, and if the man is still alive somewhere, he could give my grandma that one last dance she’s asking for. I’d do anything to make her happy before she passes.

I need to find out how their relationship ended and why she chose my grandpa. The temptation to break my promise to her and read past her wishes is raging at me, but I can’t do it.

I must wait. There are only a few letters left.