Page 66 of Sweet Heart

“Kitty Cat,” she purrs as she slinks in and slides onto my desk. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have?” I raise an eyebrow, but my eyes are still glued to the screen.

“Claro que sí, Katherina. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Now I do look at her, ready to roll my eyes but something in her tone makes me hesitate. There is a slight crease between her brows, and her nostrils are flaring. Dios, she really is upset.

“Lo siento, Carmen. I have been really busy.”

“Yeah, no. I know. I mean, la rubia has you wrapped around her little finger, but—”

“Hey,” I warn her in a low tone, and her hands come up in a defensive gesture.

“But she does, Cat. I get it, young love and all… but…”

Her voice trails off, and something in me softens. Carmen’s eyes flicker back and forth between mine as she fidgets with her fingers. I place my hand over hers to still the movement and nod understandingly.

“I’m still here, hermana.”

“I just feel left out,” she says with a little shrug.

The words slice through me as I feel their weight in my chest. My oldest friend, my sister, feels abandoned. By me. And I didn’t even see it. I’m on my feet and pulling her against my chest before she can even register that I’m moving. Her body stiffens before she lets out a heartbreaking sob and clings to me for dear life. How the hell did you let it come to this?

I rub soft circles over her shoulders, fighting the sting of tears in my eyes. We’ve been through so much together. We’ve been through life. How could I have been this selfish?

I pull Carmen closer against me, knowing that I have to make it up to her even if she doesn’t blame me. She’s too good a person to ever do that.

“Lo siento, Carmen. I didn’t… I didn’t realize,” I whisper in a hoarse voice.

“It’s okay. I understand,” she manages between sobs. “You were… occupied.”

She leans back to look at me with a watery grin on her lips, looking far too smug for somebody who is crying at the same time. But that’s her. Carmen never lingers on the negative. Not because she doesn’t acknowledge its existence, she’s prone to it just as much as any other person, but because she actively chooses not to dwell. It is a skill that I admire and wish I had more of myself.

“Nothing has changed between us.”

The words feel like a lie in my mouth. Everything has changed. Carmen isn’t wrong. I’ve spent every free moment of the past few months with Mary in our own bubble. And I don’t want to change that. So, if I’m not willing to give that up, I must pull Carmen into our space.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner Friday?”

“Really?” Carmen asks hopefully before she freezes. “Wait. With la rubia?”

I keep my face neutral but feel my heart plummet. Is she jealous? I can’t have my best friend disliking my partner.

“Would you want that?”

“Yes. Dios, yes!”

Her eyes grow large, and she tightens her hold on me. The sobs give way to something much softer and happier now. I smile at her and pull her against me again.

“Then dinner it is,” I hum.

Carmen is practically bouncing in my arms now, and I let out a soft chuckle. The tight ball in my chest loosens, and I feel like I just won the most important battle of my life.

And maybe I did.

***

Mary is pacing back and forth, going on about how the vendor gave her the wrong bell peppers and how he must have seen the spots on them. Even though I can’t stop my lip from curling up, I don’t want her to spiral. After three full minutes, I firmly step into her space, grab her wrist, and pull her against me. My free hand finds the small of her back, and I run small circles with my thumb.