He rubbed his jaw. “If I’ve moved too fast, we can dial it back or—”
“No, it wasn’t you at all. You’re wonderful. It’s me and my stupid family and—”
“Your mother doesn’t approve of me.”
A tear slipped down my cheek and he wiped it with his thumb. “Anne, please. I don’t want to create tension between you and your mother, but I’m not a guy that’s going to sneak around with a girl I care about. If you want to be with me, why not let it be in the open?”
I clasped my hands, willing them to stop shaking. “I get that, and I respect it, but maybe if I just give her some time?”
“Time for what? How can she get used to the idea of you dating me if you’re not willing to tell her that we’re together?” He paused for what felt like an eternity, and then he said quietly, “Maybe I’ve assumed too much. I know we come from different worlds and that your mother will never approve of me for a million different reasons. But I care about you and I think we had something good. I think we still can. But only if it’s something you want.”
I covered my lips with one palm, mind racing for a way to salvage the situation. Ididwant him, wanted him so much it scared me, but I didn’t want it to be this hard. My mother would never accept him, would never acceptmeif I was with him.
She’d chipped away at the undesirable parts of me for years, shaping me into someone worthy of the de Bourgh name. Maybe now there wasn’t enough left of me for Ernesto. An image of his fangirls came unbidden to my mind. He had so many women who wanted him, both as Ernie Reyes and Ernesto Garcia.
A quiet voice reminded me that he’d wanted to meet the violin player he’d seen rehearsing, that she was enough to interest him. I shoved that voice aside.
Ernesto sat next to me, holding my hand, patiently waiting for me to speak, but the minutes dragged on and I still didn’t know how to explain, how to tell him that I didn’t have enough to give him. Finally, he let go of my hand and stood. “I think you’re just scared, Anne,” he said softly.
He turned and walked away. And I let him.
Chapter 13
Abuelowrappedmeinhis arms and I breathed in his comforting scent—fresh linen and a hint of cinnamon.
“What’s wrong,Mija?”
I spoke into the crook of his neck, not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms. “My mother told me to stop seeing Ernesto.”
Abuelomade an angry noise in the back of his throat and pulled back to meet my eyes.
“You’re a grown woman, Anne. No twenty-five-year-old woman needs to do everything her mother tells her to do.”
I sniffed. “But I’m not just any twenty-five-year-old woman. I’m a de Bourgh and I have responsibilities to uphold.”
“Si, Mija, but that’s notallyou are.”
Hot tears slid from my eyes ontoAbuelo’ssoft shirt.
“¡Ay!You’re getting me all wet.” He wrung his hands, looking around the room. “I don’t know what to do,” he muttered in Spanish, and a moment later,Abuelita’scookbook soared into the room, landing heavily on the coffee table and flipping to therecipe for her cinnamon hot chocolate. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll make you some cocoa.”
He led me to the couch and tucked a blanket around my shoulders. I slumped to my side and stared at the wall until he came back.
He raised his eyes heavenward "¡Cielos!Mija,sit up. You can be sad without being pathetic.” He took me by the shoulders and straightened me. “Your mother doesn’t approve of your boyfriend, so what? A little friction between a mother and a daughter is normal.” He handed me the chocolate and I brought it to my lips.
“But I’ve lost him,” I said into the cup.
“What do you mean, you lost him?”
“I told him we had to keep our relationship secret from my mother.”
"¡Ternurita!You did not."
I sniffed. “I did.”
"No tienes dos dedos de frente,"he muttered to himself.
“And now I’ve lost him forever.”
