Page 56 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

Barbara frowns slightly, with the expression of someone trying to understand herself.

“And what was it that I needed?”

“I guess everything felt too small for you,” I reply, not entirely sure whether I’m right or not. “You felt trapped, and you wanted to fly higher. Just like you’ve done in London.”

Her gaze falters for a second before she slowly nods.

“Yeah, well…” she admits in a whisper. “But in the process… I lost you.”

Silence returns, giving space for everything we’ve said to settle between us.

“I didn’t handle things well either,” I add, lowering my gaze to the sand sticking to my feet. “I shut down completely. I got angry. And instead of trying to understand you, I pulled away and built walls around myself.”

“No,” she says, stepping closer to me. “None of this was your fault, so don’t blame yourself for what happened, Lidia. That’s not fair.”

“Barbara…”

“No,” she insists firmly. “I was the one who made decisions for both of us, the one who put my career ahead of you. You, who were the most wonderful thing in my life,” she adds softly. “I didn’t think about you. I only thought about myself, and I made you feel like you weren’t enough.”

I lift my eyes and meet her gaze directly. I’m not used to seeing this side of her—so open, so honest, so willing to take responsibility without hiding behind excuses.

“Let’s not keep talking about it, okay?” I ask softly. “We’re here now. We’re living this. And even though so much time has passed…”

“Everything happened at exactly the right moment,” she says, cutting me off as she closes the distance between us.

Her hands slowly rise to cup my cheeks, and the touch sends an electric current rushing through my skin.

“Do you really think so…?” I whisper.

“Yes,” she says gently. “Because if none of that had happened… we wouldn’t be here now, together, talking like this.”

I stare into her eyes, trying to process her words, trying to believe this is real and not just some beautiful dream that will disappear at dawn. And it’s there, in those chocolate-brown eyes, that I realize what’s happening between us isn’t just sex, nor some nostalgic longing for what we once had. It’s something deeper. Something I feel too.

“So what are we now…?” I ask almost automatically.

Her thumbs stroke my skin with endless tenderness.

“What we’ve always been,” she replies without hesitation.

My breath catches for a moment. I want to believe her with everything I have. I need to believe her. Because after so long protecting myself, hiding, running away from what I feel for her… the last thing I want is to end up shattered all over again the way I was the first time.

I gently rest my forehead against hers. I close my eyes and let the moment exist fully, without thinking about tomorrow, without thinking about anything except the two of us here and now.

“This is crazy,” I murmur against her skin.

“A little,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“What if we make the same mistakes again?”

“Well, at least we’ll have enjoyed these days to the fullest…” she replies, though there’s a trace of uncertainty in her tone. “Right now I just want us to turn these days into a dream. We’ll think about the future later.”

I open my eyes and look at her again, realizing there’s a bubble around us every time we’re alone together. A place where everything feels possible. Where the past doesn’t weigh so heavily. Where the future doesn’t seem frightening. Where just being together is enough.

I know it isn’t completely real. I know it isn’t sustainable. I know that sooner or later we’ll have to face everything we’ve been avoiding. But tonight… tonight belongs to us.

I move closer until there’s barely any space left between our bodies. And I kiss her. Slowly. Without rushing. Without urgency. As though we’re learning how to kiss all over again, rediscovering every sensation carefully, tenderly. As though there’s nothing left to break. As though there’s nothing to lose. Just this. Just us.

As her hands wrap around my waist with both strength and tenderness, as the sea continues whispering its eternal song around us and the sky remains untouched above our heads, I think that maybe this bubble isn’t just a temporary refuge. Maybe it’s the place we’ve always belonged.