The Spanish Love Deception

Closing my eyes, I heard him continue, “I pretty much kicked her out of my office after she went out of her way and got me a gift.” Aaron’s voice got low and harsh. “A fucking welcome gift.”

I opened my eyes just in time to watch him turn his head in my direction. Our gazes met.

“Just like the big jerk I had advertised myself to be, I ran her out. And to this day, I regret it every time it crosses my mind. Every time I look at her.” He didn’t even blink as he talked, looking straight into my eyes. And I didn’t think I did either. I didn’t think I was even breathing. “All the time I wasted so foolishly. All the time I could have had with her.”

If I hadn’t been leaning on the tall table of the sidrería, I would have fallen to the floor. My legs weren’t able to support my weight any longer. My body had somehow numbed. Aaron looked at me—no, he looked into me. And in return, he let me do the same. I couldn’t know how, but I swore, in that moment, he was laying bare a little piece of himself in front of me. He was trying to tell me something I didn’t think I had the ability to process. Or was he? Was he begging me to remember that this was all a farce? Or was he begging me to remember that even if it was, his words still held part of the truth?

But that couldn’t make any sense, could it?

No. Nothing did. Not me wondering and not whatever I thought I had heard in his words or seen in his eyes.

Certainly not the way my heart had broken free and turned into a wrecking ball, demolishing everything it found on its way and leaving nothing more than a trail of shambles behind.

“And what happened next?” a familiar voice asked.

“Then,” Aaron answered, and his hand rose, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheek, “I acted like a fool—an idiot, depending on who you ask—for a little longer.”

My eyelids hid my eyes, breaking off the contact. I could feel my blood pumping through my body. The imprint of the ghost of his touch right beneath my cheekbone.

“And eventually, I somehow managed to make her give me the time of day. I talked her into believing

that she needed me. Then, I showed her—proved to her—that she did.”

My eyes were still closed. I didn’t trust myself to open them.

I didn’t want to see Aaron. His face, his lips, the serious line of his jaw. I didn’t want to see if there were any secrets in the depths of the ocean in his eyes.

I was terrified of not finding a single thing there. Of finding something. Everything, anything. I … was simply terrified. Confused.

Then, someone started clapping. And I heard the unmistakable voice of my sister.

“You,” she said when I blinked open my eyes. Isabel’s voice sounded shaky with emotion and anger. All at once.

Not that I cared at that moment. I was looking into Aaron’s eyes again. And he hadn’t lifted his gaze off me.

What is happening? What are we doing?

My sister continued talking, “That was so beautiful, Aaron. And you, Catalina Martín Fernández,” she used our two last names, which meant trouble. “You are no sister of mine any longer. I can’t believe you kept all that from me. You made me talk about sexcapades and lust when the truth is so much better than all that superficial crap.”

The truth. That little word soured my stomach.

“Good thing your boyfriend has better sense. You are so very lucky he’s here.”

Aaron kept his eyes on me when he said, “See? It’s a very good thing I’m here.”

That sent my heart into doing another cartwheel.

“Oh, Aaron.” I heard my sister exhale shakily, and I could tell she was about to cry. Or kick my ass. It could be either one of those. “You have no idea how happy this makes me. It’s the best wedding gift I could ever get, seeing my little sister finally …” Her voice wobbled. “After all this time, it’s just …” A hiccup. “Oh, man. Why am I crying when I want to kick her ass? It must … it must … be …” She hiccupped again.

Oh dear Lord.

Tearing my gaze off Aaron, I reluctantly turned to my sister. She was full-on bawling. And she looked pissed off too.

“It must be all this wedding pressure,” I thought she mumbled.

Daniel, who I had completely forgotten about, said something under his breath and reached for the bottle of sidra. It was empty, so he placed it back on the table and bolted in the direction of the bar.

“Ven aquí, tonta.” Gonzalo pulled my sister into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Then, he mouthed over her head, More alcohol.