He sits up, drags the chair even closer so our knees are touching. Staring at me with such an open and sincere expression that it’s hard to look at him without losing myself.
“Then the break-in and locksmith, handling everything for me. Your brother kidnapped my dog and loved him like his own. It felt like I wasn’t battling the world alone anymore. For the first time, I had help, even after being married. I was being taken care of. Someone wanted to do for me, instead of me always doing it for them. I had no idea that it was even possible. That there were guys out there like that.”
“I’ll always do it for you, baby. Hell, I do for my brother all the damn time, and he’s not even what I want. Can you imagine how much I’ll help the person I love?”
Love.
He says it with so much feeling, my heart aches. Emilio was right from the moment he said it. And in all the messages and voicemails, all the glances and longing gazes, it’s been there longer than I want to acknowledge.
My throat goes tight, choosing not to talk about that part yet.
“I wanted to fall into it. I wanted to rest. Really rest. Just for a second. But the part of me that remembers him?” I tap my chest for no reason at all. “That part freaked out. Because taking help means giving someone power. Letting you protect me means you can hurt me. Letting you fix my life means you can walk away and take the tools with you. And I didn’t know how to be in your house, in your bed, with your brother and your easy, carefree Saturday afternoon, making food by the pool, without feeling like at any second someone will flip the table and take advantage of me again.”
He flinches. “I would never?—”
“I know that.” I tap my temple. “Here. Nurse brain. Logic brain. You have done nothing but show up and care and be there.”
I tap over my sternum. “But in here? Different story. The girl in here still thinks love is a debt to be paid. You have to give something to get something. I’m learning now that that is not the case, but it’s all I’ve ever known.”
Silence settles between us despite all the surrounding noise. It’s a clearing of the air, at least on my part. On his, I still don’t know. And maybe I don’t need to know today, nor right now, in the middle of the emergency, with his brother off getting imaging.
“And then my ex shows up outside my building. Hiding in the shadows. Big talk about how I still belong to him. How he has people. How you’re not welcome on his block. He stole my rent money right out of my bag like it’s his. He says one word, and ‘they’ can come for you. For Em.”
Rage flashes through his eyes, hot and fast.
“He threatened you? Threatened us?”
“Yes, but hold on.” I stare at him so he sees I’m not sugarcoating it. “I believe him. Not because he’s strong, but because he’s reckless. Men like him don’t care who gets hurt as long as they get what they want.”
His hands roll back into fists. If our knees weren’t smashed together and his brother wasn’t hurt, I’m sure he’d be out there looking for him now.
“So, I did what I always do. I decided the best way to protect you was to cut you off. Not to pursue this anymore. To let you both go so my ex can’t harm you. Either of you. If that’s what it means to make sure you’re safe, then I’ll say goodbye, and everything will calm down. Go back to normal. He’ll get bored. You’ll move on. Everyone survives.”
I let out a long breath. Relieved and exhausted, whereas he looks ready to go to war. Ready to charge out of her and handle business. Something I can’t have him do.
“Papito?”
I reach for his hands. He lets me hold them in mine. His tan eyes move from mine to where we are joined. He tightens his grip and returns my gaze.
“When did he do this? Show up and scare you. Steal from you?”
His voice comes out low, almost a controlled rasp. His hands shake with anger, trying to hold it back from me. I’m not scared of him. I understand his fury. I had it that night before he scared me with his threats.
“It doesn’t matter because I handled it for now. But it made me realize that my independence looks a lot like isolation. And I’m tired, Papito. I’m so tired of being alone. Of pretending I don’t need anyone. Of pushing away the only two people who have never once made me feel small.”
Something breaks in his face. A little crack in the hard shell of anger reserved for my ex.
“What are you saying, Sofia?” His voice is careful. As if he breathes wrong, I’ll disappear.
“I’m saying I don’t want space.”
I lift my chin, owning my choices. Owning that I want both brothers. I want to be between them both, even if that still makes me blush.
“Not from you. Not from Em. I want us. Whatever that looks like. Messy, loud, complicated. I want to try again. For real this time. No half in, half out. No disappearing when it gets too much or too hard. No playing martyr in my little apartment while you two fall apart.”
His eyes close for a second, like the words hit him physically. When he opens them, they’re shiny with tears. With tons of emotion that so readily flows out of him. For being so big and built, he’s so calm, kind, and sweet with me.
“You’re sure? Because if I let myself want you like that,” he sighs so loud his chest literally deflates. “I’m not going to do it quietly. You know that.”
