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“That depends. Will you?” I refuse to commit myself to someone who could very easily run off to be with another woman. He travels the country for his job. He could have women waiting for him in every state. How would I know?
“Sure.”
“That wasn’t very convincing,” I tell him. “Am I your woman?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes, I’ll be here.” I’ll probably look back on this one day and regret it, but I find it impossible not to speak my heart. It’s the most honest part of me, and I don’t want it to be quiet. In times like this, when every minute counts, it’d be foolish to withhold even a single word.
“Okay, Mami.”
We hold each other for a long while, chatting about everything and nothing: music, work, kids, family, and friends. His trip home and what’s waiting for him there.
Then it’s time for me to leave.
After we’re dressed, he walks me outside to my car. Each step closer is like a death knell in my head. I don’t want to go. I find myself wishing for a miracle, for time to stand still. Just a little longer, I plead with whomever might be listening up there beyond the starry night sky.
If there’s an answer, I certainly don’t hear it.
I’m shaking by the time we reach the driver’s side door, the cold air cutting through my clothing like a sharp blade. My teeth chatter, prohibiting coherent speech, but there’s nothing to say that hasn’t already been said back in that room.
I don’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to me to go. I want him to stay.
Stepping into me, Alejandro wraps his arms around my shoulders and curves around me, bowing my back as he hugs me tight to his chest. His height pushes my head back, straining my neck and cutting off my air supply. It’s uncomfortable, and yet I’d rather pass out from lack of oxygen than ever allow this moment to end.
Just a little longer.
When he pulls back, we look into each other’s eyes for several heartbeats. No words are needed. Except three that threaten to push from my throat.
No. It’s too soon.
“You’d better come back.” My words float on the night air, a threat as much as a plea. I don’t want to hear his reply, afraid of what he might say. My gut says this is the last time we’ll see each other, and that’s terrifying. So I grab hold of his face with both hands and pull him down to me, and I kiss him for all I’m worth. I push everything into that kiss: my desire, my passion, my heart.
Don’t leave.
“I should go.”
His eyes dart between mine, glinting in the faint light of the parking lot. “Drive safe.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.” He pecks my lips with his.
“Promise.”
He smiles, and there’s a touch of sadness to it that creates a twinge in my chest. Without another word spoken between us, I turn around, open the car door, and then I’m on my way.
Now I know what bittersweet truly means.
8
Two weeks later…
Alejandro was on a plane the very next morning. He texted me the moment he touched down and every moment, day and night, for days afterward. We did some heavy flirting, expressed our longing for one another—then Alejandro made a confession.
I just want you to know…
I’m in love with you
