The Spanish Love Deception

“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 trail

ed 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.