The Spanish Love Deception - Page 84

I am on my own.

A wave of sheer panic curled its way down my spine. Something else too.

Something that tasted a lot like betrayal. Which didn’t make sense really. When it came to Aaron, I wasn’t entitled to feel betrayed. Or abandoned. I also didn’t want those emotions wreaking havoc in my head. Or my chest. Not when I was more than able to understand why he would get cold feet.

This whole thing was crazy anyway. Total nonsense. So, why would he go through with the insane plan I had concocted?

My eyes landed on the suitcase and the weekender bag pooled at my feet as I tried really hard to shove away the way I was feeling.

You are fine, I told myself. Ignore that stupid, crushing sensation you have no business feeling and go check in your bags.

The last thing I wanted to do was board that plane alone, but I would do it. I would face my family—and Daniel and his fiancée and the past I had left behind—and the consequences of my lie with my head held high. And I’d do it on my own as much as I had allowed myself in the last forty-eight hours to trust I’d be doing it with someone by my side.

Dios. How had I let this happen? How had Aaron Blackford made himself indispensable in my life?

Bracing my hands on my hips, I remained where I was for what I promised myself would be one last minute. And just to be thorough, I vowed to myself again that I’d be fine.

The pressure building behind my eyes? Nerves. Going home had always filled me with equal parts of joy and remorse. With as much nostalgia as the pain that came with the memories. That was why I didn’t go back all that often.

But that did not matter. I was a big girl. Before Aaron, the plan had always been to do this on my own, so that was what I’d be doing.

With one shaky exhale, I emptied my head and chest from every thought and fleeting emotion, and I let my arms drop from my hips as I reached for my bags.

Ya está bien. Time to go. Hell waits for no—

“Catalina,” a deep voice I’d thought I’d never be glad—not just glad, but also relieved, happy, freaking elated—to hear said behind me.

Closing my eyes, I gave myself a moment to get rid of the swirl of overjoyed and inappropriate emotions I had unsuccessfully tried to push away less than a heartbeat ago.

Aaron is here. He came.

Swallowing hard, I pressed my lips together.

I’m not alone. He is here.

“Catalina?” he called one more time.

Turning very slowly, I couldn’t stop my mouth from finally shaping into what I knew was a wobbly smile. One that probably gave away every single emotion fighting to burst out of me.

Aaron’s frown welcomed me, and I swore I had never been so happy to see that stubborn knot th

at wrinkled his brows together.

He came, he came, he came.

He tilted his head. “Are you o—”

Before he could finish formulating that question, I landed on his chest with an oomph. Then, I wrapped my arms around him the best I could. “You came.” The words were muffled against the soft fabric of whatever he was wearing. His chest was warm and wide and snuggly, and for a second, I didn’t want to give a damn about how I had plunked myself onto him or how embarrassed I’d be about it later.

Because for better or for worse, I was hugging Aaron.

And he … he wasn’t returning the embrace, but he was letting me. With his arms hanging on his sides, just where they had been when I launched myself at him. His chest wasn’t moving much either. It felt a lot like hugging a marble sculpture, unyielding and hardened under my cheek, only that it pounded with a heartbeat. The latter being the only sign that I had not shocked him into cardiac arrest.

Because besides that, Aaron remained completely still.

Taking one step back very slowly, I gazed up.

Okay, so he looked like a statue too. Perhaps I had broken him with my hug.

Tags: Elena Armas Romance
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