“No, we did not talk about such things,” my mother firmly denied, shooting her other daughter a look. “Stop teasing your sister, Isabel. You are getting married tomorrow.”
Isabel frowned. “What does that have to do with any—”
Mamá sliced her hand through the air, dismissing my sibling.
I snickered, watching her cross her arms over her chest.
“We never thought you’d end up alone, Lina. But we were terrified you would be lonely.” She looked over at Aaron, her eyes softening. “And knowing that you’re not, that you have someone to lean on and to return home to, maybe someone to call home one day, makes me sleep a little better at night.”
The man beside me didn’t hesitate when he spoke, “I can promise you that much.” His voice reached my skin like a caress. Pushing my heart to bang against my chest walls, wanting out as much as I didn’t want to hear whatever was to come. “She’ll always have me.” His thumb caressed the back of my hand. “She doesn’t know it yet, but she is stuck with me.”
I couldn’t not look over at him. After that, I couldn’t not want to search his handsome face. At this point, it shouldn’t have surprised me all that much. Aaron held that kind of power over me. So, I did exactly that. I allowed myself to turn. His eyes had already been on me.
Does he feel that pull too? That urge to search my face for whatever answers he thinks he’ll find?
Trying to get my heart under control, I peered into that ocean blue with trepidation. With anticipation too. And I found something utterly terrifying. Something that shouldn’t—couldn’t—have been there, considering that this was supposed to be a farce so therefore his statement was not true. But I struggled to deny what was in front of me, that those emotions were really there, radiating off his gaze. Raw honesty. Conviction. Faith. Reliance. A pledge. All of that looked at me from Aaron’s eyes. Demanding to be acknowledged.
As if he was making me the promise and not my mother.
As if what he had just proclaimed wasn’t part of our game in deception.
But I couldn’t accept that. As much as my body shook with effort to restrain myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and begging him for answers or to tell me exactly where in the gray area we found ourselves, I wouldn’t allow myself to play with the questions spinning in my head and knotting together all my heartstrings.
Because perhaps I didn’t really want to hear any of the answers to questions like: Had we gone from coworkers to deal associates to friends? Were we friends who vowed to be there for each other now? Friends who almost kissed and shared soft brushes of their lips? Was that promise really true, like his eyes pleaded with me to believe? Or was that nothing more than an ornament? And if it was, then why would he say something like that? Had he no disregard for my poor heart? Didn’t he see that I was no longer able to discern one thing from the other? But if it wasn’t a simple embellishment of the truth—an act, a tool in this farce—then what in the world was he doing? What were we doing?
Not able to remain under everything that looked at me from Aaron’s gaze anymore or to process all the questions and doubts cramming my head, I straightened my legs with a brisk motion, and my hand let go of his. The chair underneath me screeched across the floor.
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” I rushed out, snagging my gaze off Aaron.
Then, I walked away as fast as I could without looking back.
I did not turn. Not once.
Not even after I heard my sister say, “So, now that she’s gone, can we talk about me? I am the bride, and I’m supposed to be the center of attention. I’m feeling neglected.”
Had my head not been a mess, I would have laughed. Probably gone back and tugged at her hair for being a pompous, self-centered brat, but I was too busy running. Being a complete chickenshit again, which at this rate, I’d probably master by the time the weekend was over.
I went through the motions of washing my hands and splashing some water on my face while I thought about nothing and everything, feeling completely overwhelmed by my own stupidity.
That was probably why when I exited the bathroom, I didn’t realize there had been someone on the way until I was collapsing against a male chest with an oomph.
“Mierda,” I muttered under my breath, going back a couple of steps. “Lo siento mucho,” I added right before noticing who was in front of me. “Oh, Daniel.”
Brushing a few strands of hair off my face, I inwardly cringed.
My ex didn’t show any sign of feeling as awkward as I did. “Are you okay?” he asked me in Spanish.
Now that it was just us and Aaron wasn’t around, I answered in Spanish too, “Yeah, I’m fine. It was nothing. Just a little bump.” Clearing my throat, I dusted off imaginary specks of dirt off my pleated skirt. “Sorry again. It was really my fault. I was a little distracted.”
“It’s all
good, Lina.” That dimple in his cheek made an appearance.
I stared at it, a little lost in thought. And to think that all those years ago, it was that dimple that had set everything into motion. Now, I couldn’t even bring myself to feel the slightest hint of warmth when I looked at it.
“I think I shouldn’t have come tonight,” Daniel confessed out of the blue, returning me to the present.
I nodded slowly, trying to come to terms with the odd sense of sympathy I suddenly felt toward him. He wasn’t wrong. All throughout dinner, he had been nothing but a ghost. No one had really addressed him—something I could understand, considering our history—and he hadn’t talked on his own. Putting myself in his shoes, I didn’t think I would have accepted coming myself.