Fall Apart

Back at the Monteiro's home, Romero lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his body bruised and bandaged from the accident. His face was unreadable, a mask of indifference as Pablo pulled the blanket on him.

“Why did you send the caregiver away?” Pablo asked, standing by his bedside.

“She’s not useful to me,” Romero replied, his voice laced with irritation.

Pablo groaned, his hands balled into fist by his side. “Not useful? Romero, you can barely stand on your own! She’s here to help you,” he almost shouted.

“I don’t need help. I’m not some weak, helpless man,” Romero scoffed, turning his head away from Pablo.

“No one is saying you’re weak. But you’re recovering from a serious accident. I wanted you to stay at the hospital, but you forced me to sign your discharge papers saying you’d be fine at home. Now I hired someone who can help you at home, but you’re not appreciating it. What else do you want me to do?” Pablo flared, his voice rising with frustration.

Romero’s eyes darkened as he turned back to face Pablo. “I didn’t ask you to hire anyone. I don’t want someone hovering over me, treating me like a child,” he retorted.

Pablo shook his head, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about pride, Romero. Pride won’t take you anywhere. This is about your health. You need to focus on healing, and that means accepting help from others,” Pablo said.

“I’ve never needed anyone before, and I won’t start now. You’re wasting your breath,” Romero growled, his voice low and venomous.

Pablo took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “You’re just being stubborn. This isn’t about you proving something. It’s about getting better. You’re running a business that needs you. The board is already circling like vultures. They are looking for any sign of weakness. If you don’t take care of yourself now, you’re going to lose everything.”

Romero’s jaw tightened, as he glared at Pablo. “My family built this business. I won’t let it fall apart because of a few broken bones. I don’t need you, or her, or anyone else telling me how to recover,” he snapped.

“Romero, this is bigger than your pride. People depend on you; your employees, your friends. Pushing everyone away isn’t going to help anyone,” Pablo said, his voice steady but firm.

Romero’s eyes flickered with something; guilt, maybe, but was quickly buried under his icy attitude. “I’ll handle it my way,” he said sharply.

“And what way is that? Ignoring everyone who cares about you? Lying here in bed, and wallowing in self-pity? You’re acting like a child, throwing a tantrum because you’re not in control anymore. Well, guess what? You’re not invincible, Romero. No one is,” Pablo’s tone sharpened as his patience wore thin.

Romero gritted his teeth, and for a moment, the room was filled with tense silence.

“Get out,” Romero said quietly, his voice hazardously low.

“No. I’m not leaving until you listen to reason. You’re not alone in this, Romero. I’m right here. Stop acting like you have to do everything by yourself,” Pablo shot back, refusing to budge.

Romero’s eyes flared with anger. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life. Leave. Now.”

Pablo stepped closer, his expression hard. “Maybe not. But someone has to remind you that you’re not invincible as you think. Let people help you, damn it,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair.

Romero’s chest heaved, his frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. “I’ll tell you for the last time. Leave.”

Pablo clenched his jaw, his hands trembling at his sides as he fought the urge to argue further. He knew pushing Romero harder right now wouldn’t help. With a resigned sigh, he stepped back.

“Fine, if you insist. But you should know I’m not giving up easily on you,” Pablo muttered before turning to leave the room.

As Pablo closed the door behind him, the silence in the room thickened, leaving Romero to stew in his frustration and pain.

---

The night drifted quickly, and morning came. Carmen arrived at the Monteiro mansion before dawn, her nerves already frayed from the stress of the previous day. She had hardly slept, her thoughts tangled in her brother’s illness and her new daunting boss.

Standing at the grand entrance, she adjusted her uniform and her bag, trying to summon the confidence she didn’t feel.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing a man in his mid-fifties with a neat mustache and impeccable posture. His face was formal, though a flicker of warmth passed through his eyes.

“Good morning, miss. You must be Carmen,” he greeted, his voice smooth with a slight accent.

“Yes, that’s right. I was here yesterday to care for Mister Monteiro,” Carmen offered a polite smile, feeling a bit nervous.

The butler stepped aside, allowing her into the grand foyer. “Yes, I was told. I am Santiago, the head butler. If you need anything, please feel free to ask. We’re glad to have you here helping our master,” Santiago said, his tone professional.

“Thank you, Mister Santiago. I appreciate it,” Carmen said, with a slight bow.

After a brief exchange, Carmen dropped her bag on the couch and followed the butler to the kitchen. “I’m here to get Mister Monteiro’s breakfast. Could I please have his tray prepared?”

“Of course,” Santiago said, moving gracefully toward the counter where a fresh breakfast tray was being arranged. “Today, it’s simple. Toast, eggs, and tea,” he added.

“That sounds perfect,” Carmen responded, her voice stable, though the butterflies in her stomach hadn’t quite settled. As the tray was prepared, she mentally rehearsed her approach, determined to make the best of the situation.

Santiago paused for a moment, studying her with a kind but cautious look. “I assume you know that Mister Monteiro may not be the easiest patient. Don’t take his mood to heart.”

Carmen forced a smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Santiago handed her the tray, his movements careful and deliberate. “If you need anything or the master becomes…more difficult than usual, don’t hesitate to call for assistance. You don’t have to handle him on your own.”

Carmen nodded, her grip firm on the tray. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Mister Santiago.”

Santiago gave Carmen a small nod of encouragement, and watched her exit the kitchen. Carmen made her way to Romero’s room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Reaching his door, she drew in a deep breath before gently knocking. When no response came, she cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. Romero was wide awake, lying in bed with his gaze fixed on the window. His face was clouded with a frown, but Carmen refused to let it dampen her spirit.

“Good morning, Mister Monteiro. I brought your breakfast,” Carmen greeted him cheerfully, setting the tray down on the table next to his bed.

Romero’s eyes flickered briefly in her direction. “I thought I told you not to come until I said so?” he asked, his brow slanting in disapproval.

Carmen swallowed hard. “I figured you might need me. Let me help you sit up so you can eat,” she said, trying to keep the mood light as she walked closer to his bedside.

“You don’t listen. I don’t need your help,” Romero muttered, his voice cold as ice.

Carmen paused, her hands hovering awkwardly. “I understand, but it might be easier if I–”

“I said no,” Romero cut her short, his tone slicing as he managed to push himself into a sitting position.

Camen’s heart pounded, but she kept her smile in place, refusing to back down.

“Well, the food is ready whenever you’re hungry. You should eat something to keep your strength up, and also take your medications,” Carmen said brightly, bringing the tray closer.

Romero glanced at the tray and then back at her, his eyes glowering. “I’m not hungry,” he stated flatly.

Carmen hesitated, trying to remain cheerful. “You should try, at least a little, Mister Monteiro. It will help you heal faster,” she cajoled.

At Carmen’s insistence, something inside Romero snapped. His face shadowed with anger as he knocked the tray from her hands, sending the breakfast crashing to the floor. The clatter of dishes echoed through the room, and the food splattered across Carmen’s dress.

Carmen stood frozen, the sudden outburst shocking her into silence. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she was robbed of speech. The warmth she had tried to bring into the room evaporated, leaving her feeling small and humiliated.