Page 17 of Sweet Heart

“Good, because… we are kinda making a scene.”

She nods toward the barista and the other two customers, who all pretend they aren’t invested. I instantly feel my face flush as the realization dawns on me. I’m now one of those people who brings drama out into the world like a scene from a freaking telenovela. Dios mío.

“Let’s go,” I say, trying to sound assertive.

Mary just grins and shakes her head.

***

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” I deadpan.

The huff is enough to make me look sideways and catch her eye. There is a playful grin tugging at her lips, and relief floods my system because I put it there. My fingers twitch at my side, wanting to reach out for her, so I curl them around the seams of my pockets.

“Go ahead,” I say, softer now, inviting.

She stays silent for a moment. Not to torment me, but because she is choosing her words carefully. It is clear in the way she frowns, purses her lips, and then swallows.

“I noticed something was off last night. It didn’t sit well. But did you really just agree to coffee to apologize?”

I consider the question. When I woke up this morning, the first thing that crossed my mind was the horrifying thought of having texted Mary in the middle of the night without her consent. Then, when I read through the messages, that feeling of dread grew. I even considered writing a formal apology to the board and offering my resignation. Until she texted. Maybe I said yes because a part of me hoped I could still fix it and make it go away. But I know it doesn’t work like that. And I also know that’s not why my stomach flipped when she asked me to meet her for coffee.

“A part of me likes to think that,” I admit as I glance over to gauge her reaction. She frowns.

“But?”

Of course she’d hear it.

“A part of me knows it’s a lie.”

Her eyes dart up toward mine, searching my face for something only she knows.

“Then… why did you come?” Her voice is small now, hopeful.

“Because I needed you to know I am not like that. I am not the person who preys on others. Mary, I shouldn’t have texted you. I shouldn’t have had your number in the first place.”

“You made that clear,” she whispers.

“I… I know.”

“So, why didn’t you let me walk away?”

I stop walking and swallow hard, looking at her. Staring at her. Her face is so open and vulnerable, so delicate, that it claws at my insides. I want to wrap myself around her and protect her from the outside world. Protect her from me.

“Because the thought of never seeing you again…” I trail off, and she raises her gaze to meet mine.

She needs to hear it as much as I need to say it.

“That thought would haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Chapter 07

Mary

Catherine lifts her chin slightly when she says the words like she is bracing for impact, but my stomach only does a weird flip, and I gasp a little. Her eyebrows knit together, but before she can worry, I nod. Because I understand. Really understand.

I felt this pull into her orbit from the moment she commanded me to follow her. It was the only thing that kept me standing in that moment. My curiosity about what that feeling was exactly. I’ve experienced attraction many times before, both physically and mentally, but this is something different. As if I had been searching for someone my whole life, and when I saw her, my soul sighed and said, ‘finally.’