Free The Love of a Latino by A. B. Ewing Page A

the
happiest of her life but also the saddest? He was probably married to Sarafina
now, Dahlia a distant memory to him, a fling—a one night stand.
    Had it not been for this baby
she was carrying, she would probably have had a nervous breakdown. Sometimes,
if she closed her eyes and wished hard enough she was sure she could hear him
call her name. She could hear him say those words she longed for; I love you
Dahlia . But when she opened her eyes, reality would be there waiting for
her, reminding her with a cold hand that there was no happily ever after. Love
hurt and if you weren’t strong enough it could destroy you.
    She wondered what he would do
if he knew that they had created a baby that night. Would he want to be part of
its life? Would their baby look like him if it was a boy, that same thick brow,
that hard mouth, those deep grey eyes?
    A future with Raphael was
completely out of the question, but that didn’t stop her deceitful heart from
loving him. It didn’t matter how she felt. He belonged to someone else. If he
had cared even a littler, he would have come back. But he hadn’t.
    A growl from the dog lying at
her side had her glimpsing down at him. He was chewing on her flip flop again.
Dahlia gave him a stern look, muttering, “Marley what am I going to do with
you?”
    At the mention of its name,
the dog angled its head and released the flip flop. Its tongue slipped out the
side of its mouth. Unable to stay mad at the dog with its silly looking face
Dahlia laughed. Happy at being the center of attention the massive dog rose to
its full height and proceeded to lick its way into her heart. She giggled,
trying to fend away the wet tongue in her face, when he suddenly went still,
his ears cocked.
    “What is it, Boy?”
    A low growl began somewhere
in the depths of its throat, then it rolled out in full-fledged barks, the
heavy sound rumbling in Dahlia’s ear. The dog turned and took off in a run
around the front of the house alerting her that someone was at the gate. She
heard the chain rattling on the gate as she struggled to climb out of the
hammock. No doubt the silly dog was getting carried away at a stray. She
muttered something about boxing.
    Slipping the wet flip flop on
her feet she moaned as the dog’s saliva sank in between her toes. “Ugh, I am
going to kill that dog.”  Hurrying around the front she saw him, barking
ferociously at something or someone on the other side, threatening to
break the gate as his heavy body slammed against it. As she got closer, she
noticed the yellow taxi parked, a woman stood partially out of the car. When
she spotted Dahlia she stepped out fully, leaving the door open.
    “Hello, good afternoon. I am
not sure if you could help me. I’m looking for someone.” The woman started,
eyeing the frightful dog cautiously.
    “Marley, go to the back.”
Dahlia commanded. The dog stopped its ranting and looked at her as if asking
for another chance. She pointed and said again, “To the back.” This time a
little more forcefully. Giving into his mistress’ demand, the large dog dropped
its ears and strolled in the direction he was ordered.
    Dahlia turned back to the
woman. She was certainly not from around here. The fact that she was white was
the first telltale sign. The second was her manner of dress. It was the middle
of the day but she was dressed in a long sleeved, turtle neck sweater, jeans
and ridiculously high stilettos.
    “Oh, thank you. That sure is
a big dog.” She came closer to the gate.
    “You said you were looking
for someone.” Dahlia reminded her.
    “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I am
looking for a young lady, her name is Dahlia Moore. This is the address I got
from the Papaya Hut, but I am not sure if she still lives here.” The
woman was babbling, her accent making it difficult for Dahlia to understand her
clearly. Who was this woman that was seeking her out? Dahlia was sure
she didn’t know her.
    “Why are you looking for
Dahlia?” Dahlia