Fifty

YNA held her stinging cheek as she stared at the angry Señora, dumbfounded. Even though a part of her had feared she would be maltreated if she stayed alone with them, she hadn’t run. She felt she should face this now and get it over with.
But the Señora shocked her, anyway.
And she still felt tears stinging her eyes.
It probably was because she had become accustomed to the kindness and acceptance of Eric and his father. Nevertheless, this was what she was afraid of when she became Eric’s girlfriend, when she chose to love him back. Something like this would happen because not all people on his end would view their relationship in a good way like his father did.
She was especially wary of his mother because of whispers of maltreatment that’s been talked about her in the hacienda when she was still with the señor. It was not impossible—had she still been living here.
But what Yna couldn’t believe was that Eric’s mother actually spent her time to come here and antagonize the farmer’s daughter who dared believe she could be with her son—the doña and Helene. It did not make any sense to her… unless something happened that had them believing she was a threat to something they both wanted.
But Yna had decided to stay with Eric, and right then, she also decided to face his mother and his ex-fiancèe, however ugly it was going to get.
She had to survive the two women because Eric loved her and would want her to fight, and that was all that mattered right then.
She slid off the bike because she knew she wouldn’t stay unmoving if the older woman’s hand acted against her again. The bike would only be a hindrance.
The madam continued to rant. “Now, have you learned your lesson? Would you like me to slap you again to wake you up?” Señora Lucilla asked in a strident voice, with veins straining at her temples, sweat already glistening on her made-up face even though she was just out of the airconditioned car a few moments.
The effect of whatever the wealthy used on their skin to make them look stretched and smooth like glass had made her look like a human-sized, porcelain doll of an old woman who sweated with anger. And it was evident she never even thought Yna would fight back. She gave the reason in her next words.
“You are not equal to my son, and you will never be equal to him. You are worthless to him, and you don’t deserve someone like him. In fact, he’s sane now and he is going to marry Helene so, from now on, stay away from him, and don’t you ever show your face here in the hacienda!”
Yna could hear the words and, despite herself, she snorted. And she laughed further as her eyes turned to Helene who had come out of the other side of the backseat.
“What is so funny, you ugly little piece of shit?” the other woman asked in an almost shriek.
“Yes, what the hell is funny? Is this something to laugh about?” Doña Lucilla was surprised at Yna’s reaction she forgot to inject cussing in between her sentences.
Now that she was standing behind the tri-bike, Yna just had to reply.
“Did you believe the ability to think only applies to the minds of the wealthy? If what you’ve just said is true, you wouldn’t need to be here to scare me and order me to go away. Or are you here because Eric wouldn’t reconcile with that woman?” She threw a glance at Helene, whose upper lip started to curl when their eyes met. “Is my worthlessness preventing him from getting fooled again?”
The older woman seemed shocked, enough that she froze for a moment.
Then her face started to turn a dark shade of red, and she looked like she was going to explode with anger.
But the expression on Helene’s face was more amusing.
Round circles of red formed on both her cheeks and these only confirmed to her that what she’d just implied was true.
Helene had tried to get back with Eric and was rejected.
Well, it was a mistake to relish Helene’s obvious outrage and shame. It distracted her that she didn’t realize the doña had inched nearer. When she reached for her, Yna hadn’t moved fast enough. Eric’s mother caught her hair.
And the two women were into her after that, slapping her, hitting her with their palms or fists, and clutching her hair tightly so she couldn’t step away to avoid them.
It hurt to push at them. She believed she had hit a face or two in her attempt because of the insulted screeching, which only fueled her laughter. They didn’t need to see that inside her chest, humiliation and self-pity clashed with her anger. If she could only scream at them that they could have their Eric.
It's just that she could see his face in her head in all of this.
He would be so pissed off, and it wouldn’t be at Yna.
And what he would do when he finds out was justification enough for Yna to shoulder ahead with the beating, even though the pain from them continuing to yank at her hair felt like her scalp was being yanked from her head, too.
Amid the angry screeches of the two women, she heard the door to the driver’s seat opened and slammed, but they held her hair so tight she couldn’t turn her head to look.
Another slap and she tasted blood in her mouth, and her eyes saw stars under her lids. She could hear Helene egging the doña on about what kind of treatment should be given her in light of her obvious entitlement issues.
Then a new voice entered the fray.
“Tita Lucilla, please... stop! Stop doing this! She’s not even fighting back! Tita Lucilla, stop it!”
It was Señorito Brad.
And it was suddenly clear now how the two women were able to sneak into the tightly guarded gate of the hacienda.
Brad was able to pull the doña from her. Helene already stepped back, as she was the less aggressive of the two physically.
Yna angrily swiped at the tears she felt were running down her cheeks. She didn’t mean to cry. It had hurt, but she had gone through worse in her life.
She didn’t want them to see tears. She didn’t want them to think they could easily bully and beat her, and if they did she still wanted to show a fighting stance.
She didn’t want them to see they had hurt her. But she felt she’d lost because her tears fell in the first place.
Brad was pulling Doña Lucilla bodily away because she didn’t want to stop.
And despite this, she spat at her.
And the doña must have been an expert at this because the spit landed on Yna’s face.
This froze her.
No one had ever spit on her. She hadn’t even seen anyone spitting at someone else anywhere here where people were almost all humble farmers. She didn’t expect it from educated people. But there it was.
She didn’t expect to feel ashamed and small, but that was what she instantly felt.
She felt dirty.
As if that wasn’t enough.
“Whore! You’re just a whore! Do you think I didn’t know the truth?! You didn’t want to stay away from my son, huh? Then I’ll tell everyone what you really are!”
Yna saw the guilt mixing with the alarm on Brad’s face.
She spotted the condemnation and glee on Helene’s face.
They knew about that night.
Brad ratted to Eric's mother and to his cousin.