“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t have that problem.”
Liar.
“The selfish part of me hopes that’s not true,” he said, his voice a gravel rough. “But an even bigger part hates the thought of you having been as miserable as me.”
His fingertips grazed her collarbone as he grasped a lock of her hair, running the pad of his thumb over the silky strands. Fissions of awareness skittered through her chest, across her breasts, and lower. Silently she cursed her body’s reaction to simple touch.
“Look, we’re both leaving soon,” she said, gathering her hair at her nape, then twisting it and leaving it to drape over her opposite shoulder, out of his reach. “I figure, let’s end on a high note, you know? Your success tonight mere days before my first big AllFit trip seems appropriate. No need to drag out a good-bye before going our separate ways, like we agreed.”
The words were like shards of glass forced down her throat, leaving her raw and bleeding from the lie.
A humid breeze set her dress skirt fluttering around her knees and upper calves, and her traitorous mind recalled his soft kisses along her skin, his mischievous grin as he made his way up her legs, along her inner thigh, higher.
She swallowed, fighting the urge to forget about tomorrow and simply take what they could have tonight. But that wasn’t enough anymore. She’d been foolish to ever think a few weeks would be enough.
“And what if I changed my mind?” he asked.
Her breath shuddered, then caught. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to make a joke like that. Would he?
Alejandro’s hand slipped around her waist to the small of her back. The slight pressure of his fingertips urged her to step closer, but he didn’t push, leaving the decision up to her. Unable to resist, she leaned into him, tipping her chin to meet his gaze.
The earnestness in his dark eyes shone in the streetlight’s glow, calling to the part of her that wasn’t ready, might never be ready, to let him go.
Gently, he caressed her jaw, heightening her need for more of his touch. As if he read her thoughts, he cupped the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and she swore his palm seared her skin.
She knew she should step back, stop putting off the inevitable end. But his thumb swept over the line of her collarbone and her resolve threatened to ooze out of her like guava jelly seeping from the flakey crust of a pastel de guayaba.
“What if I don’t want us to go our separate ways?” he asked. “What if I don’t want ‘closure’ like we talked about?”
“You’re not making any sense. We both know this isn’t where you want to be. It’s like you told Marcelo when you turned down his job offer tonight; there’s so much opportunity out there. You can’t stay here.”
“Yes, I—Wait, you overheard us?” Guilt flashed in his eyes, confirming her original conclusion. “Let me explain—”
“There’s no need.” Shaking her head, she stepped out of his arms and quickly moved behind her swing. As if the flimsy chains and rubber seat were a barrier suitable for keeping them apart. “Everything’s clear to me now. It’s not that you can’t stay in Key West and pursue photography. It’s that you won’t.”
“That’s not entirely the truth.”
“Did you turn down a job with Marcelo that would have kept you here for . . . what was it you said . . . six months?”
“Yes, but—”
“Right. Because you can’t ‘stick around here.’” Her fingers bent in air quotes around the hurtful reason he’d given Marcelo for turning down the gallery owner’s offer. “Because what we have isn’t enough.”
“That’s not—”
“Because I’m not enough!” The torturous words were ripped from her wounded soul.
An agonized expression scrunched Alejandro’s handsome features as he stumbled forward, his CAM boot dragging through the sandy dirt. He grabbed on to the swing chains, his large hands covering hers. “You’re wrong. It’s me. I’ve always known you could do better than a man whose own father is ashamed of him.”
His raw, gut-wrenching admission shocked her into silence. Stark pain deepened the grooves on his forehead, carving what should have been laugh not sorrow lines on the sides of his mouth.
“I fucked up before,” he went on, the words spilling from him like a torrent that rained down on her. “We were both too young, and I was like a greedy kid needing you to pick me. Choose me over everything, hell, everyone else.”
He flung an arm out in a wide circle as if indicating the world around them. The swing chain swayed with his jerky motion and he teetered sideways on his good leg. She grabbed on to his shirt to keep him from falling.
“You okay?” she asked softly, once he’d grasped the chain with both hands again and had regained his balance.
He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, then nodded, his expression solemn. “I know that my expectations of you were selfish and unfair. Worse, I blamed you for my mistakes and my papi’s harsh dismissal. If I could go back . . . if I could change things . . .”
His throat worked as he shook his head, a visible loss for words.
She longed to cup his cheek, comfort the young man who’d been hurt and disillusioned by a father who had probably felt the same way. Both unable to communicate with the other.
“I was scared,” she admitted, surprising herself by sharing the truth she had never told anyone. Not even her cousin Vanessa. “Even back then, you were larger than life. Confident and daring. Doing everything you set out to do, despite your dad. But I wasn’t sure how I could fit in to all of that without losing myself. Before I could even know who or what I was meant to be. I needed to find my place and how I could do my own good in this crazy world.”
“You have.” His hands softly squeezed hers around the swing chains. “Do you know how many people I’ve run into here, not to mention your on-line clients and followers I’ve never met, all of whom can attest to how you’ve helped them live healthier lives?”
His compliment was a spirit-lifting gift.
“And you’ve brought awareness to cultures, people, and causes everywhere. Educating others in a beautifully artistic way,” she told him, proud of his work, even though it inevitably took him away from her.
Alejandro’s lips curved with the ghost of a smile, but sadness lingered in his dark eyes. “I’d say, we’ve done good.”
“Yes, we have. Apart.” The last word stung, but she refused to lie to herself anymore.
Alejandro’s hesitant smile disappeared.
Across the street, a rowdy group of people emerged from Salute! On the Beach, drawing Anamaría’s attention. Their laughter and calls good night carried on the humid breeze, and she watched as they climbed behind the wheels of their cars, waving out their windows as they drove away. Unaware of the bittersweet conversation taking place in the shadowy park.
“My father came to my show tonight.”
Alejandro’s barely heard whisper was so unexpected, several thudding heartbeats passed before it registered in Anamaría’s shocked brain.
“Your father didn’t have an emergency at the fire station,” Alejandro continued. “He went to Miranda’s, where he convinced Papi to, in his own words, ‘get his head out of his ass’ and come to Bellísima.”