THE SWEETEST SIN(BxB)

55: Sister Talk.

LUCIA

After a successful and eventful day, I got home only to find her.

Paloma Eugenia Camacho, otherwise known as my sister.

"Paloma." I said, my eyes trained on her. The shopping bags were still clasped in my hands.

"Luciana." She uttered my name, her big grey eyes which reminded me of our mamá, resting on me.

"Didn't know you'd be visiting." I spoke, my eyes surveying her outfit which comprised of a sleeveless crop top which exhibited her toned stomach and a pair of denim shorts that exposed her thighs and legs.

Her toned long legs have always been her pride and she never shies away from flaunting them.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. You know how much I love surprises." Paloma retorted, walking towards me. Her ample breasts bounced with each stride she took. She hated how saggy and flaccid they looked after giving birth to her niños, it's why she'd opted for plastic surgery.

Personally, I do not advocate for plastic surgery because I believe that God created us in his own image.

"Now, aren't you going to give me a hug?" She inquired, halting directly in front of me. Being taller than me, I was compelled to tilt my head to face her. She inherited the tall genes from papa's side of the familia.

Before I could speak, she forcefully drew me for a bone crushing hug. How could I forget how much of a hugger she is?

"I missed you, hermanita." She was sniffling, prompting me to roll my eyes. She broke the hug and cupped my face in her palms. "You have lost weight. It seems that Juan Perez is not feeding you well. Good thing your big sister is here to ensure that you are well taken care of."

"My husband takes very good care of me, Palomita." I spilled, a smile forcing its way to my lips.

"Really? Does preaching pay him well these days? Or is it peanuts like back in the day?" She poked her nose in my marital affairs.

"Carl, take these bags to my room." I instructed my son who had been observing our interaction in silence.

After he had left, I turned my gaze to her. "You still haven't told me why you are here, Paloma."

"You really didn't want me to visit? Estoy muy herida, Luciana{I'm very hurt, Luciana}." Her full lips curled into an angry-like pout as she dramatically crossed her arms on her chest.

She always had a flare for the dramatics. It's why she ended up being an award-winning Telenovela actress. Last time I visited mexico, her face was plastered on every billboard in the city.

"Still haven't answered the why part of my question." I mumbled, taking off my shoes. The jimmy choos pumps were killing my feet after my earlier shopping activities which involved a lot of moving around.

"Luciana, can't I visit my sister and nephew? Or is that a crime here in California?" She inquired following me to the kitchen.

She sat on the marble counter. A kitchen stool was literally a few feet from her and yet she chose to sit on my clean kitchen counter. You know, the same counter where I roll my tortillas and chop my vegetables.

How much longer do I have to put up with her? It's been only 10 minutes and it feels like an eternity of misery with her around.

"You know there is this thing called telephone. Do you have one in Mexico? Because if you did, you would have called to inform me that you are visiting." I turned on the faucet. Cold water surged from the tap, licking away the dirt from my hands as I rinsed them.