Текст книги "The Spanish love deception"

Автор книги: Elena Armas

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

“But are you really happy, Lina? I know you, and this is not the carefree Lina you are. You have been on edge in the short time you’ve been here, and I’ll be honest, I can’t help but be concerned.”

Concerned? I blinked. Then, I did it again. And again and again.

Had I been on edge? I could believe that. I had certainly felt that way more than once. But … whether what he thought was true or not wasn’t important. It was the fact that he believed he had any right to deny something I was telling him myself.

Oblivious to my growing outrage, Daniel kept going, “It could be coming back home. That must be a lot of pressure for you. Or maybe it’s that Isabel is getting married and you aren’t.”

A breath got stuck in my throat.

“Or maybe it’s him. I don’t know, but—”

“Stop,” I hissed. Something lit up inside of me. Like a bonfire. I could even hear the flames crackling and sizzling. Burning away the remains of my patience. “Don’t you dare do that, Daniel.”

His brows wrinkled together, his expression one of confusion. “Do what?”

“Do what?” I repeated, my voice going up an octave. Closing my eyes, I tried my best to get back my composure. “Do not pretend that you care or that you even know me anymore. You have no right to judge or doubt my happiness.” The pace at which my breath entered and left my lungs increased, my anger not receding. “So, stop throwing in my face whatever it is you think you know or see. You lost that right a long time ago.”

He shook his head, sighing loudly. “I’ve always cared about you, Lina. And I always will. That’s why I’m worried about you. Why I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“You’ve always cared about me? You’ll always care?”

“Of course,” he puffed out. “You are like a little sister to me. We are about to become family.”

Something deep inside of me turned to ice. The marrow in my bones freezing, rooting me to the spot.

“I’m like a little sister to you now?” His statement tasted like something tart in my mouth. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Daniel.”

His expression assembled into one that was meant to impose. To convey authority. I had been well acquainted with that face when I used to sit across from him in his classroom. “Don’t be like that, Lina.”

“Like what?”

He tsked, bathing me in condensation. “Don’t be a child. We are both adults now. You can talk and act like one.”

Now. He had said now. Opposed to what? To when we had dated?

“Had I been a child when we were together, Daniel? When you dated me? Made me feel special? Told me you loved me?” I watched his jaw press into a tight line. “Is that all that I was to you when you dropped me like a hot potato after you so much as sniffed a little trouble coming your way? I guess that would explain everything. Why I’m only getting an apology now that you deem me worthy of one, having finally turned into an adult.”

I took a step back, hearing my heart drumming in my ears as I watched him remain very still.

“You know what? I’m over this.” Shaking my head, I laughed bitterly. “I don’t owe you a single thing. And you don’t owe me anything either. You never cared about me, Daniel. Not enough at least. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have let them eat me alive.” I swallowed, pushing all those memories away as much as they banged and screamed, demanding to be let out. “I really wish you hadn’t said all this. I really do. Because these last few minutes have wiped out the little respect I had for you.”

Watching him as he stood in front of me, barely moving, I took another step back.

His mouth fell open, but no words came out besides, “Lina.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “I don’t expect anything from you. As I told you, it’s water under the bridge now.”

His lips snapped closed, his shoulders falling in what I hoped was acceptance.

“But I can tell you this much: I am happy.”

And I was. Confused too, if I was being honest. Yes, my heart was mixed up and disoriented. Terrified on top of all that. But there was a force that seemed to tear the shell of fear that covered that poor and beat-up organ, seeping through the cracks and wanting to obliterate all those doubts if I let it. Promising safety and comfort.

But that wasn’t a conversation I owed to Daniel. I did to someone else.

Someone I needed to make my way back to.

I was about to turn in my heels and do exactly that when someone who always managed to put a smile on my face turned around the corner.

“What have you been doing here for so long, cariño?” Abuela asked in Spanish, looking over at Daniel. “Oh, I see now.” She shot him a sideways glance and ignored him altogether. When she looked back at me, her lips were tugging up, mischief written all over her face. “That boyfriend of yours is sitting on that table, looking like an abandoned puppy.” She linked her arm with mine, and I felt a little lighter already. “He ordered you dessert, you know? And he keeps staring at where you left, like he is holding himself from coming to get you.”

My belly flopped, a fluttering sensation taking over. “He is?”

Abuela patted my arm. “Of course he is, boba.” She clicked her tongue, pulling us back to the restaurant. “He didn’t even ask for two spoons, so he knows that getting you to share is fruitless.” She snickered, and I tried to ignore how the flutter was now spreading to my chest.

“He … he’s pretty perfect,” I murmured, surprising myself.

“Yes,” she said without thinking much about it. “That’s why you shouldn’t leave him sitting alone for so long. He’s too beautiful for his own good.”

He was—for my own good too.

“You think he will save me a dance tomorrow?”

“I think he will.” I didn’t have a doubt in my mind he would. “Only if you ask nicely, Abuela.”

She giggled, and I knew without a doubt that I’d probably have to fight my own grandmother over my fake boyfriend’s attention.

Then, the woman who had snuck chocolate after bedtime more than a million times guided us back to where the rest of the family was, chatting animatedly.

Right before reaching the table, she lowered her voice. “They didn’t make men like that back in my day. Abuelo was handsome but not like that. Although it wasn’t his looks that won me over.” She winked. “You know what I mean.”

“Abuela!” I loud-whispered.

She patted my arm. “Don’t play coy around me. I’m old. I know better. Now, go.”

A pair of blue eyes immediately found mine. They bounced to Abuela and then somewhere behind me. Looking around, I noticed Daniel was a few steps behind us.

After parting ways with my grandmother, I let my gaze fall back on my fake date as I made my way to him. I could see the unease edged in Aaron’s handsome face. His jaw was clenched, and his forehead was bunched. When his gaze met mine once more, his eyes held questions and that protectiveness I had felt a few minutes ago when Daniel had mentioned his name. It was clear as a cloudless summer day.

Aaron was worried. He was holding himself back from meeting me halfway and asking me what the hell had happened. He cared. He cared about me. And he’d shield me, hold me, or just stand by my side if I so much as opened my mouth to ask. I knew. Hell, he would even if I didn’t ask.

Honest, genuine concern. Contrary to whatever Daniel had claimed.

Letting myself fall delicately on my chair, I took a moment to plaster a calm smile on my face. A neutral expression. But my lips probably curled the wrong way, my features displaying everything still churning inside of me after my exchange with Daniel because when I turned and faced Aaron, his eyes flared more intensely.

I willed my lips to inch higher, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

My sister started chattering about something—what exactly, I couldn’t tell. My head was somewhere else.

My hands were in my lap when I felt Aaron’s palm fall against them. For the second time tonight, he interlaced our hands. Our fingers weaved together, each and every one of them. But this time, he kept our linked hands right where they were—on the top of my thigh. As if he was trying to tell me, this way—with them below the table, hidden from everyone else—meant that this was just for us. Not a part of the charade.

He squeezed my hand with purpose, his fingers tightening around mine, his palm warm against my skin. Just for us, it seemed to reassure me. To promise me.

And like the biggest dummy in the universe, I found the greatest comfort in those five long fingers. In that warm palm. So, I brought our joined hands closer to my belly, and I squeezed right back.

There was something lodged right in between my ribs that felt a lot like a ticking bomb.

“I can hear the gears in your head spinning,” Aaron said as he crossed the room in that pair of pajama pants, which was doing mad things to my belly again. Same went for the T-shirt. He was wearing the one he had slept in yesterday.

At least he was wearing one. I didn’t think I could take shirtless Aaron right now.

“I’m okay,” I lied, my head throbbing with every replay of my conversation with Daniel. It had been on a loop since we left the restaurant. “Just going through everything I need to get done before the big day tomorrow.”

Which was what I should have been busy doing.

Clad in my sleeping clothes too, I aligned the two pairs of heels—the ones I’d wear and the backup—on the floor. Right against the wall. Meticulously leaving the same space between them.

I stepped back, admiring my work. Nope.

Unconvinced, I knelt and rearranged them.

When I had something in my mind, I did one of two things. I compulsively ate or organized. And considering we had just had dinner and seeing the pile of neatly stacked clothes and perfectly in line items displayed on top of the dresser, it seemed that this one time, it was the latter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Aaron plopping himself on the bed with an ease and finesse no one his size should have.

“There’s smoke coming out of your ears.” He rested his back on the headboard, and the wood complained under his weight.

I reached for the shoes again, moving them an inch to the right. “I don’t think so,” I said in a clipped tone. Then, I moved the two pairs half an inch to the left. “For that, I would need to be overthinking something. And I’m not doing that.”

“Oh, but you are,” he said from his position on the bed. “Talk to me.”

I didn’t bother answering him. Hearing his sigh, I kept my focus on my task.

Maybe if they face the wall—

“Catalina,” Aaron called.

And the way he had said it made me turn around and face him.

“Come here.” He patted the bed with his hand.

Brows bunched, I sent him a look.

“Sit with me for a little while, and then you can go back to torturing those shoes into perfection,” he told me with a sigh. “Just for a few minutes.” Then, he placed his palm on the comforter again. When I didn’t say anything or move, he added very softly, like it would break his heart if I didn’t give him this one thing, “Please.”

That please, that freaking please and the way he had said it, launched my legs forward.

Before I knew what I was doing, my ass was on the bed, right beside his hip. I knew what he wanted to talk about. That cocktail of emotions and memories and questions that had slowly been assembling in my head. The one I had brought back to the apartment, and that I knew if I so much as opened my mouth, it would burst and spill right out of me. But that meant completely confiding in Aaron. Telling him about a part of my past that I didn’t find any joy in revisiting. Giving him a key that would help him understand—know—me better. And did I want to do that? Could I do it without wanting to tuck my head in his chest and look for comfort in him?

“I don’t want to bore you with the melodramatics of my life, Aaron,” I sighed, and I meant it. What I didn’t tell him was that beneath all that, there was only fear. “You don’t need to worry—”

In one smooth motion, Aaron picked me up and placed me between his open legs. Another sigh left my parted lips, but this one had nothing to do with exhaustion or whatever was brewing in my head.

“Anything that bothers you matters to me, and I want to hear about it,” he said from his position behind me. “Nothing about you is boring or doesn’t interest me—ever. Understand?”

I felt myself nod and perhaps mutter a quiet, “Yes,” too. My heart drummed too loudly in my ears to know.

Aaron continued, “If you want to talk about whatever happened, then we’ll do that.” His hands fell on my shoulders with a tenderness that disarmed me. Then, he brushed my hair to the side, and his fingers traveled to the back of my neck. “And if you don’t, then we’ll talk about something else. But I want you to relax. Just for a few minutes.”

He paused, and his thumbs started massaging along the line of my spine. I had to hold back from whimpering like a stricken animal. Only I wasn’t in pain.

“Sound like a plan?”

“Yes,” I answered, incapable of not melting into his touch.

There was a beat of silence, and Aaron’s fingers trailed up the back of my neck, gently kneading the muscles there. Another sound rose in my throat, almost leaving my lips. But I held it in.

“What your dad said during dinner made me think of something my mom used to tell me when I was a little kid.” Aaron’s fingertips kept working my skin, easing more than the tension in my shoulders. Turning me into softened butter as I listened to his deep voice taking me out of my head. Trusting me with yet another piece of himself. “Back then, I didn’t really understand or care about it. I didn’t until I was older and she was diagnosed and the possibility of her leaving us became real. But she used to tell me how the moment I was born, she knew she had found her light in the dark. That one lighthouse that, no matter what, was always up. Lighting up the night and signaling her way home. And as a kid, I thought that was either corny or very dramatic.” A low and humorless chuckle left him.

My heart broke all over again for him, hurting and begging me to turn around and give him any comfort I could. But I stayed put. “You must miss her so much.”

“I do, every day. When she passed and my nights got a little darker, I started to understand what she’d meant.”

That was a loss I hoped I wouldn’t experience in a long time.

“But what your dad said—about you having this fire inside, that lightness and life, and how it dulled for a period of time …” He paused, and I swore I heard him swallow. “It just …” He trailed off, as if he was scared of his next words. And Aaron never feared speaking his mind. Aaron was never scared. “You are all that, Catalina. You are light. And passion. Your laughter alone can lift my mood and effortlessly turn my day around in a matter of seconds. Even when it’s not aimed at me. You … can light up entire rooms, Catalina. You hold that kind of power. And it’s because of all the different things that make you who you are. Each and every one of them, even the ones that drive me crazy in ways you can’t imagine. You should never forget that.”

My heart skipped a beat. Then another one. And then one more. Until no air was getting in or out and I could tell my heart had stopped beating completely. For the longest of moments, I remained suspended in time, thinking I’d never bounce back from this because my heart was not functioning anymore, but hey, if those were the parting words I had to leave this earth with, then I’d be happy.

And when my heart resumed, I wasn’t relieved. I simply couldn’t be when it started thrashing against the cavity of my chest with a wildness I had never experienced.

Some people claimed that the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for them was writing them a poem, composing a song, or confessing their undying love in an epic gesture. But right then, as I was cocooned in Aaron’s long legs, his fingers delicately massaging my neck simply because I’d looked tense, I realized I didn’t need or want any of that. If I never got my epic declaration, I’d be fine. Because his words were, without a doubt in my mind, the most beautiful thing I would ever hear said about me. To me. And for me.

My body wanted to turn, screamed at my head to allow it. But I knew that if I did, whatever he saw on my face would change everything. Every single fucking thing between us.

I’d … dammit. This man. He kept showing me how perfect he was. Kept unveiling all these beautiful parts of him that made me giddy and dizzy and hungry for more.

But I still felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at an ocean that whirled in the same deep blue that colored his eyes. Would I dare to jump?

“I fell in love with Daniel in my second year in college,” I said without turning. Not daring to free-fall. Not completely. “I was nineteen. He was my Physics professor. He was younger than any other member of the faculty, so he stood out. Was popular among the body of students—the female section of it particularly. At first, it was a dumb crush. I’d anticipate his lectures. I’d maybe put a little extra care into what I wore and sit in the first row. But I wasn’t the only one. Pretty much every other girl—and a few of the guys—had been charmed by the dimple in his cheek and the confidence with which he strolled across the room. Even when his course was one of the hardest we’d ever had to study for.”

Aaron continued working the tension out of the muscles that corded along my neck and shoulders. He remained quiet, and it felt almost as if—except for his fingers—he had grown still too.

So, I continued, “Imagine my surprise when I started noticing that his gaze would rest on me for a moment, just a little longer than on anybody else. Or that his dimple would come out a little more often when it was me he was watching.” My eyes closed as Aaron’s hands drifted lower, traveling down my spine.

“Throughout that year, it all built up to a point where we would sneak a few innocent touches in between classes or during tutoring sessions. It was so … exciting. Exhilarating almost. He made me feel special, like I wasn’t one more of the students pining for him.” I heard my voice drifting lower, lost in the memory, so I tried to bring my tone back up.

“Anyway, we didn’t start dating until the moment I was through with the two semesters his course lasted. Officially, publicly dating. Not on campus or anything like that, but we’d go out like any other couple. He introduced Gonzalo and Isabel, and they fell desperately in love in the span of a heated look.”

A real smile tugged my lips up at the thought of the moment Isabel and Gonzalo had locked eyes; it had seemed as if they had been waiting for that to happen. As if they had unknowingly been waiting for the other.

Aaron’s legs shifted, cocooning me further into his lap. Or perhaps it was me who kept bending into him. I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t complain or move away.

“And I was in love too. After one year of daydreaming about something I couldn’t have, hoping for it, I was blinded by the joy at finally being able to have him. To call him mine.”

His fingers stopped briefly, as if they hesitated their next move. Then, they resumed and continued kneading at my shoulders.

“It lasted a few months. Then, I heard the first whisper, the first ugly and poisonous rumor that blackened all that happiness. And after that one, many more followed. Whispers turned into loud gossip, which traveled along the corridors on campus. There were Facebook posts, too, and threads on Twitter as well. Never directed at me, but about me. At least in the beginning.” I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them. “The whore who slept around with her professors, they said. Of course she’s the first of her promotion. That’s how she aced Physics when more than half the students fell through. She fucked him, and she’ll fuck her way through college.”

I heard Aaron’s exhale. Felt it on the back of my neck. His fingers tensing and halting very briefly.

“It was all so hurtful.” My voice sounded different—void and bitter. And it reminded me of a Lina I didn’t want to remember. Or ever be again. “The things that were said about me quickly turned into pointed fingers and into disgusting photos that someone had Photoshopped with my face. Into … really ugly stuff.”

Aaron’s touch turned into just brushes of his skin against mine, soothing me, moving me forward, telling me, I’m here. I got you.

“It was all turned into this despicable tale, where I was the cunning, dirty woman who seduced professors for grades. All the hard work and the long nights I had studied were brought down simply because … I don’t know. To this day, I don’t know the reason or the motivation. Jealousy? A laugh? But I know that if I had been one of my male classmates and Daniel had been a female professor, perhaps I wouldn’t have gone through that. It would have been the professor. She would have been accused of being a cougar, and the student would have gotten a few high fives. Instead, I was almost harassed into dropping out. I didn’t want to attend any lectures. I didn’t want to leave the house. I was still living with my parents because I could drive to campus from their house, and I didn’t even want to talk to them. I deleted my profiles on all of the social media sites. I closed myself off from every single person in my life, even my sister and even those few who had remained my friends.” I focused on the soothing circles Aaron was drawing on my skin, grounding and rooting me to him and to the present. “It was all too much. I just felt … ashamed. Worthless. I felt like everything I had done was worth nothing. Consequently, when my grades and performance sank, my average went down the drain. And I didn’t even care.”

A beat of silence that seemed to stretch too long made me realize Aaron hadn’t spoken a word. I knew he wouldn’t judge me, but I wondered what he thought. If the way he saw me had now changed.

“What did he do?” he finally said. His voice sounded rocky, rough. “What did Daniel do about everything that was being done to you?”

“Well, things started looking a little bad for him. There was no rule that stopped him from dating a former student. But everything that was going down got to be too much for him.”

“For him?” he repeated, a new edge to his voice.

“Yeah. And so, he broke things off, told me it was too complicated and relationships shouldn’t be that hard or messy.”

Aaron’s fingers halted, not moving any longer. Simply hovering above my skin.

“He thought that we weren’t supposed to make each other trip and fall and that the moment we did, then it didn’t make sense to be together. And I … I think he was right. I guess he was.”

Aaron didn’t say anything. Not a word left his lips, but I could tell there was something wrong with him. I could feel it in the way his breath had quickened, deepened. And the way his hands remained frozen above my shoulders.

“I often wonder how I managed to graduate, but I did. At some point after the breakup, I woke up. Showed up to the exams and passed. Then, I somehow put together an application for an international master’s program and left for the US.”

Aaron’s palms resumed. Very gently, but I felt them move along my shoulders. Nothing like before, but at least he was touching me again. And I needed that, more than I cared to admit.

“I wasn’t escaping him, you know? Everybody thought I was, but I wasn’t. Daniel had bruised my heart, but I wasn’t running away from that. It was everything else. Everybody looked at me differently. Like I had changed or something had changed in the way they saw me. As if I were this broken thing now. Dropped by Daniel, harassed, made fun of. Everybody whispered, Oh, poor thing. How is she going to bounce back from this? They treated me as damaged goods. They still do. Every time I came back home alone, they look at me with pity. Every time I said I’m still single, they nod and smile sadly.” Shaking my head, I released all the air in my lungs. “I hate it, Aaron.” I could hear the emotion in my voice choking my words because I did hate it. “That’s why I came back as little as I did.”

But then I also hated how much I feared that a part of it was perhaps true. Why hadn’t I been able to trust anybody with my heart otherwise?

“Everything that had happened hurt me, left a scar, but it didn’t break me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, wanting to believe my own words. “It didn’t.”

A sound, deep and husky and pained, came from behind me. Before I knew what was happening, Aaron’s arms came around my shoulders, and I was engulfed by him. Wrapped into his chest. Warm and hard and safe and … a lot less alone. A lot more complete than I had been seconds before.

Aaron buried his head in the nook of my neck from behind, and I felt the urge to comfort him. So, I did.

“I’m not broken, Aaron,” I told him in a whisper, although perhaps it was for my own reassurance. “I can’t be.”

“You are not,” he said on my skin. Tightening his hold on me. Bringing me closer. “And I know that even if something did break you—because that’s life and no one is invincible—you’d still put the pieces back together and remain the brightest thing I’d ever seen.”

My hands went around that pair of arms wrapped around my shoulders, which pulled me into his chest, as if he were scared I’d go up in smoke if he didn’t. And I hung on to him equally desperately. As if my next breath depended on it.

We remained that way for a long while. And slowly, very slowly, our bodies relaxed into each other. They melted together. I focused on Aaron’s breath, on the earnestness of the moment, on his heartbeat against my back, his strength. On all the things that he’d kept handing to me so freely, like they were nothing. Like he was supposed to give them away and I was entitled to take them from him.

Neither of us said anything as time stretched, our holds gradually loosening as we lost the battle to sleep.

My eyelids eventually fluttered shut, but right before darkness engulfed me, I thought I heard Aaron whisper, “You feel complete in my arms. You feel like my home.”