Chapter 5 A New Beginning

Maria's POV

I opened the door and entered; the house's warmth that I was familiar with was gone, replaced by a cold and dead atmosphere. My clothes stuck to my skin, soaked from the unyielding rain outside, water falling to the ground with each step I took.

The pressure in my chest hadn't diminished. If anything, it intensified, causing every breath to feel heavy.

I ignored my father's stare as I walked by him, going directly to the kitchen. I picked up a glass, poured alcohol into it, and took it to the living room. My hands shook slightly as I took a sip of it, the cold liquid providing little solace.

The remote control was next to me. So I grabbed it and switched on the TV, indifferent to the content. The sound invaded the quiet, an inadequate diversion but a diversion all the same.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my father shift in his chair. He exhaled gently, a sigh that expressed more than just breath-it carried the weight of shame, of regret.

I ignored it...but then he spoke.

"What happened?"

His voice was soft and uncertain as if he already knew the answer but feared to hear it from me.

I drank another gulp of water, staring absently at the television. A dramatic soap opera played, the actors arguing over some trivial betrayal.

Fitting.

"Maria," my father said again, louder this time.

I finally turned to him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were tired, dark circles beneath them a testament to his sleepless nights. But I didn't feel sympathy for him, not yet.

"I lost my job," I said, my voice flat.

He blinked. "What?"

I let out a small laugh and placed the empty glass on the table. "I lost my job because I stayed home taking care of you and Wanda. Because I was the only one who thought someone should actually be strong for this family!"

The words spilled out, unfiltered, raw. My throat tightened, and before I could stop them, tears flowed down my cheeks, hot against my cold skin.

My father recoiled, the agony in his eyes clear. He parted his lips, then shut them as though he were struggling to find the right words.

I shook my head. "It was supposed to be you." My voice wavered, but I pushed on. "You were supposed to be strong. You were supposed to hold us together, but instead, you disappeared into your grief and left me to pick up the pieces."

I swiped angrily at my tears. "I begged for my job today, Dad! I got on my knees and pleaded, and she still kicked me out like I was nothing."

The room became quiet, the television's noise becoming distant, meaningless.

Then, my father stood up.

Before I could react, he crossed the room and pulled me into a tight hug.

I stiffened.

His arms were strong, stronger than they had been and as he talked, his voice shattered with the weight of emotions.

"Forgive me," he murmured. "I'm truly sorry, Maria."

I tightened my jaw, determined not to allow more tears to fall.

"It came as a surprise," he continued. "Losing Carlos, seeing Wanda like that... It broke me and I let it break me. But I shouldn't have. I should have been the one protecting you both."

He pulled back slightly, looking me in the eyes. "I failed you."

For a long moment, I said nothing.

Then, with a deep breath, I nodded.

"You did," I admitted. "But...you're here now."

He swallowed hard, his expression softening with relief.

I wiped my face and stepped back. "I need to change before I catch a cold."

He nodded and moved aside while I headed to my room.

Once I had changed into dry clothes, I returned to the living room, drying my wet hair with a towel.

The scent of dinner hit me instantly.

I froze.

My father stood at the dining table, setting down plates of steaming food. Wanda sat nearby, her gaze locked on the meal before her.

I frowned. "Dad?"

He turned a sheepish smile on his face. "It's been a while since I cooked for you both," he admitted. "I figured... it was time."

I glanced at Wanda.

For the first time since Carlos died, there was something in her eyes. Not grief, not emptiness...just something else.

She caught my eye, pressing her lips together before she began to speak. "I don't want to keep living my life in a sad and pathetic way."

I nodded gently and made my way to the table, sitting down. My dad smiled and handed me a dish.

The warmth from the dish flowed to my fingertips as I took my fork.

We remained silent for a bit until my father started to talk.

"I know some people," he said, setting down his utensils. "They might be able to help you find a new job."

I looked up, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "If you're interested."

For the first time in days, a genuine smile appeared on my lips. "I am."

Wanda glanced at me, then at our father. "What kind of job?"

He chuckled. "Nothing dangerous or stressful, don't worry."

That made Wanda roll her eyes. "I wasn't worried about Maria. I was worried about the poor employer who has to deal with her stubbornness."

I scoffed. "I'll have you know I'm a funny and wonderful company."

She smirked, the first smirk I'd seen in a long time.

My father laughed. It was light and genuine, the sound foreign after so many days of sorrow.

I couldn't help but laugh too.

The meal continued with more small talks, more warmth. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't magically fixing everything.

But it was something.

After dinner, I stood and stretched. "I think I'm going to sleep early."

My father nodded. "I'll make some calls tomorrow about the job."

I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, Dad."

His hand covered mine briefly. "Get some rest, Maria."

I turned to Wanda.

She looked at me, something flashed in her eyes, before she said, "Goodnight."

I smiled. "Goodnight."

While heading to my room, I took a deep breath, my thoughts racing about what tomorrow holds.

After a while...I felt I had a future again.