Page 57 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

The kiss lingers, soft and deep, and I feel her body relax against mine, her fingers threading tenderly through my hair. The scent of salt and night mixes with the familiar smell of her skin, and for a moment time stretches wide enough to make room just for us.

When we finally part by only a few inches, her eyes shine with an intensity that steals my breath away. She doesn’t say anything for several seconds, just looks at me as though memorizing every detail of my face. I do the same, tracing the line of her jaw with my eyes, the soft curve of her lips still damp from the kiss, the way the wind moves her hair.

“I don’t want this to ever end,” I confess softly, almost before I realize the words have left my mouth.

Barbara smiles that slow smile that has always driven me crazy.

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t,” she replies, her voice carrying something I can’t quite identify. “Just you and me, trying to get it right this time. Or at least trying with everything we have.”

I nod because right now I don’t want to think about anything else. I only want to feel her hands on my waist, the warmth of her body so close to mine, the sound of the sea serving as the perfect soundtrack to this moment that feels ripped straight out of a dream.

After a while, we continue walking farther down the shore, our fingers now intertwined as though we’d never stopped holding hands, sharing that connection we’ve always had even through the worst moments.

“I remember the first time we walked together on a beach,” she says suddenly, letting the memory surface without fear. “You were still sick from that little boat ride. In the end, you threw up and forced me to stay with you until dawn.”

I laugh softly, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

“And you spent the whole night teasing me, saying I looked like some tourist who’d had too many resort cocktails. But we had such an incredible night.”

“I think that was the night I realized I was falling in love with you.”

She pauses and looks at me tenderly.

“Me too. It just took me a lot longer to admit it,” I confess.

We stop there, staring at each other beneath the moonlight, with the sea witnessing everything we feel and everything reflected in our kisses. And in that moment I understand that even if the road ahead won’t be easy, even if there are obstacles and unfinished conversations waiting for us, it’s still worth trying. Because what we have—this connection still alive between us—is too precious to lose again.

Barbara leans in and kisses me once more, this time with more intensity, as though she wants to seal everything we’ve shared tonight. Her lips are soft and warm, and I answer with the same devotion, letting my hands slide up her back until my fingers tangle in her hair.

When we finally separate, she rests her forehead against mine again and whispers:

“We’re going to do this right, Lidia. I promise.”

And I believe her. Because in her eyes I see the same determination I feel inside myself. Because tonight, beneath this sky full of stars and with the sea as our only witness, everything seems possible.

CHAPTER 29

THE SPARKLE IN HER EYES

Barbara

There’s something special about the nights in the Maldives. It’s not just the sea breeze cooling and caressing your skin, nor the sound of the ocean or the endless ebb and flow of the waves against the shore. It’s the way everything slows down, as if the whole world had decided to grant us a much-needed pause amid the whirlwind of emotions carrying Lidia and me away. Or maybe it’s us creating that magic, determined to live inside a fragile bubble we know can’t last forever, but that we still refuse to break because inside it, everything feels possible, everything feels like ours.

The restaurant is lit by small strings of lights hanging between the palm trees, casting soft shadows over the white sand. The tables are beautifully arranged, some near the water, others tucked beneath wooden structures draped with white fabrics swaying gently in the sea breeze as though dancing to the rhythm of the night. The air smells of salt, food, and the natural fragrance of the flowers decorating the place. Soft background music drifts through the air, a subtle melody that accompanies the conversations without overpowering them, creating an intimate, welcoming atmosphere.

We sit down with Miriam and Pablo. The last time the four of us shared a meal together was a disaster, and the memory still weighs heavily on my chest. I remember Lidia’s tense glances, everything she said to me before leaving, and the strained looks Pablo and Miriam exchanged after she stormed off and left the three of us alone. But tonight everything feels different. Because Lidia is beside me, because there’s no distance between us anymore—neither physical nor emotional—and because somehow we’ve decided to try again without thinking too hard about the consequences waiting for us on the horizon.

“This is beautiful,” Miriam comments, looking around with a satisfied smile lighting up her face. “I think the welcome dinner for the guests is going to be incredible if everything already looks this good.”

“I sure hope so,” Pablo replies, lifting the cocktail he ordered the moment we sat down. “After all the stress you’ve put yourself through, it better turn out amazing.”

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” she protests, lightly smacking his arm. “Planning a wedding isn’t easy. But if something goes wrong and it doesn’t turn out exactly how we imagined, then at least we’ll have a funny story to remember. Right, girls?”

“Absolutely,” I reply sincerely as I take in all the details surrounding us. “Besides, it’s always the unexpected moments that end up becoming the best memories.”

Miriam gives us a smile that reaches her eyes, and for the first time since arriving in the Maldives, I truly feel at home. Maybe because we’re no longer standing on opposite sides of a complicated story. Maybe because, somehow, everything has shifted and the wounds have begun to heal without us even noticing.

“And how are you two doing?” Miriam asks then, her gaze moving curiously between Lidia and me. “Things seem a lot better than last time, don’t they? Today you both seem more connected. I don’t know… there’s something different about you.”