Angered, I snort, “Dario had me up against the wall, too.”
“Where else?” he asks. It lacks the animosity I’d have if the shoe were on the other foot.
In a desperate attempt to cling to indifference, I play my heart for a fool by looking into his eyes. Big mistake. “Let’s not play this game, Dominic.”
“The one where I’m here for you, supporting you?”
“I take care of myself. Always have.”
It starts low, a vibration in his chest as he mutters sensually in Spanish, cursing my tenacity, calling me loca.
“Ha! I’ve endured worse, Dom. Most people spend their life searching for a purpose. I may not know the outcome of my twin’s story. Crazy as I seem, I see I helped El Santo’s girls—made sure he didn’t collect another one.”
“You’re so beautiful; it fucking hurts.” Dominic drags his lips over the side of my face. He cups my other cheekbone, ceasing my retreat. “In a few short months, you gave me a lifetime worth of love.”
“I’m happy you feel that way,” I reply in a tone my therapist, Dr. Linde, often utilized. “Now, let me go.”
“Mírame, mami. Sí, keep those pretty eyes on me so I can share exactly what I will do for you, Aria. Letting go isn’t an option. I’ll make you love me again.”
“I never stopped loving you,” I exclaim. “I mean, I . . .”
A smile breaks across his impossibly attractive features. God spent an entire day molding this one—inside and out. My soul lights on fire as I reminisce on his body, rocking against mine. Thrilling electricity buzzes through me, jump-starting my heart. I saw him the first day he stalked me back. My longest-running friend, guilt, had a hold on me so tight, I refused to see Dominic.
Amid dropping kisses all over my face, Dominic asks, “You still love me?”
“Where’s the infinite confidence, Dom? The big head, the conceited expectation?”
Giddy contentment swirls around me, tenfold stronger than before. He’d signed his name on my heart. We may have to climb Mount Everest to differentiate some dysfunctional scenes, including myself and his brother. But I know the day Dominic Ángel Alverez swept me off my feet, and he knows the day he fell for me too.
Extended Epilogue: Aria
Two years later
Santa Barbara. I can’t help but imagine the coastline of California while Dominic drives along the Miami shoreline. Forking my bottom lip through my teeth, I contemplate how my therapist suggested writing one single word on the back of one of the many photographs that I had taken. Instead, I wrote, “Santa Barbara.” It had taken me a few weeks to consider Dr. Linde’s request, let alone find my favorite vintage camera in the attic of the new home Dominic and I share. After which, I spent days in my darkroom developing photos of—Dario and me.
On that day, in particular, I’d have to be crazy not to believe he loved me. We’d lain in bed at my old apartment, discussing a place where only we could go. We fantasized about new beginnings as new lovers do. But that psychotic bastard shouldn’t get all the blame. God, I’d been so stupid not to realize who he was back then.
Before that day, Dario had never allowed me to take a picture of him. With Dr. Linde’s help, I processed the reason why he finally had. He hadn’t intended on Dominic returning from Cuba.
“What are you thinking, chula?” Dominic asks, his thumb rubbing over my earlobe.
I turn in my seat and tilt my head. “Chula? You tried it.”
His sexy lips curve in a half-smile. “You were deep in thought.”
It's been two whole years of pulling the Band-Aid off and learning each other. But this will be deeper than we’ve ever gone. Why did Dr. Linde believe that finding my favorite old camera would bring me closure? The very camera that Dominic had used to take pictures of me the day we used Chico’s speedboat was the same one I’d used to take countless photos with his brother. We had created a life together right before Dario stabbed my heart out. I’ve told Dominic all of this before. I just never mentioned . . . Santa Barbara.
“I did something crazy the other day.” I blurt it out, unable to stare into his handsome face and not come clean.
“What did you do?”
“Dr. Linde made a suggestion,” I begin.
“Bueno. I like her,” Dominic replies while paying for parking. “I like that you’ve worked with Dr. Linde all these years after moving to Florida. She really knows you. And she’s said the same things I do, only a million times more. Like, fuck your mother for—”
“Dr. Linde never said, ‘fuck my mom.’ ”
“Eh, in other words.” He smiles and pushes my silk dress up to clasp the inside of my thigh as we drive past the toll gate. His tone becomes sincere. “You’re such a good woman, mami. We just went to Puerto Rico at the beginning of the summer, yet you don’t want to celebrate your birthday. What’s that about?”
I shrug. “Birthdays aren’t my scene. Netflix and chill are.”
“We did that last year.”
“Disney Plus and . . .”
Dominic swoops into a parking spot. Yachts lined up in a row float across from us. “No bueno, Aria. Birthdays are your scene. For little Rolando’s first birthday―”
“You can’t use my godson to build a case. Ros is the best momma ever, but Rolando deserves more than Francisco. He’s MIA again.”
“Okay, then. Your abuelo complains about his birthdays. Still, you do something for him. You put others before yourself, Aria. Case in point, Siobhan told me about the necklace.” His fingers skim across my empty neckline. “Back to the craziness, Aria. What have you been up to, mami?”
My head sinks back against the buttery-soft headrest. “I told you everything when it came to Dario. We figured out all the times he was with me. The smoking . . .”
“Sí,” he sighs. “You worried about the case? I can’t believe that pendejo married a rich heiress. I can’t believe he’d find someone as crazy as him. Dario has an entire law firm at his disposal. But schizoid personality disorder or not, death row has his name on it.”
I nod. “Listen, Dom, Dr. Linde assigned me the homework of finding the photos I took with Dario a few days before he was caught. I sent them to him.”
The bomb drops between us. I’d never seen the look in Dominic’s gaze—the one I expected and grew accustomed to after people found out I was the other twin. He’s aware of the sex—all of it. But instead of the look or an explosion, I’m met with silence.
Dominic’s composure is my key to continue explaining about Santa Barbara, Dario, and me. I clear my throat. “Dr. Linde calls it closure. But closure isn’t necessary, not like relationship closure.”
He squeezes my thigh again. “From the sessions I’ve attended with Dr. Linde, I’ve realized it would take years to deal with. We ride together, mami. Two short years have flown by. We have our entire lives ahead of us.”
Emotion compresses my throat. I can hardly find the words. “Dom, how did I deserve you?”
“I could ask the same question.”