“You’re my best friend, you know that.”
His eyes widen, lifting to mine at the confession. It’s the most honest thing I’ve ever said to him, the most vulnerable—it’s the only gift I can give him, the only true thanks for everything he’s done.
After moments that begin to feel like forever, he smiles. “You’re mine, V.”
We stand there, smiling at each other like drunken fools, for a long while. It’s not awkward anymore. It’s comfortable, a place of understanding with another human being I care deeply about.
Before, I would have felt the cold sting of rejection, but it’s not that. You can’t force two people to be more than they are. You can’t help who you love.
I swallow thickly at the thought, my throat beginning to work overtime around a sudden knot.
“What is it?” McCrae’s smile fades.
“Are you leaving?” I hadn’t thought about it until now, but I know it’s likely the next step. He’s been my safety net, my dark knight in obsidian armor, but things are different now.They have to be.
“Yes.”
Tears burn my eyes, and for a second, I see the horror cross McCrae’s face as he grapples with the need to fix it. I raise my hand to my face, wiping away the first beading tear. “It’s okay. I understand—I even think it’s the right thing to do. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but it’s time I learn to do them for myself.”
“What about Rafael?” I can sense the hesitation in his voice.
“It’s between him and me, but I feel safe with him, if that helps you sleep at all.”
His shoulders instantly relax, and he nods. When he raises his hand to grip the back of his neck, though, I can tell there’s more.
“What?”
“How do you do it?”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes find mine now, wide and afraid for the first time since I’ve known him. His voice wobbles as he says, “Risk getting hurt in order to be with someone?”
FORTY-EIGHT
RAFAEL SANTOS
December 3rd, 2025
I pullup to the house and find Valentina sitting on the porch, her hair rustling as a breeze sweeps around her. Her cheeks are rosy, and there are glittering droplets shimmering on her impossibly long eyelashes, like she’s been crying.
Jumping out, I jog toward her. “What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, she extends a card toward me.
I stare at the pearlescent white card, rereading the words to identify what could be so upsetting. At the bottom, scribbled in a sparking purple pen, is a handwritten note.
It would mean so much if you joined us. Bring Rafael too.
I look up at Valentina.
“They’re getting married.”
I nod, looking back at the card, feeling out of my element but wanting to help.
“They’re getting married, and I haven’t even had a chance to fix things. They’re moving on with their lives, and I’m just—” She motions to the space around her like it’s no great feat, the trauma she’s already worked to overcome.
Sighing, I hand her back the card and walk up the steps to wrap my arms around her waist. She folds against me instantly, her face burrowing into my chest. “What’s really wrong?”
