“Does it matter?” he said to her back. “This still isn’t a good idea.”
Grace didn’t respond. She stared off into the distance, Jaime still holding her wrist. He let her go, though, when she didn’t look back at him.
When she spoke, it was so quiet he wasn’t sure he heard her. But the words were unmistakable. “I’m not going to beg you to change your mind. I’m not going to beg you to kiss me or date me or do anything you don’t want to do.” She took in a breath. “But I’m not going to apologize, either. Because we did nothing wrong.”
She finally turned to look at him, and her gaze pierced straight through, an arrow to his heart. “You can’t keep giving me these mixed signals. One second you’re kissing me, the next you’re telling me it’s all a mistake.”
“Graciela…”
“Which is it? Is it what you want, or is it a mistake?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Both? Neither? I don’t know anymore.”
She scoffed. “You know what, Jaime? Call me when you figure it out—if you ever figure it out. Because I’m not waiting around until you do.”
Jaime was about to let her go, but some voice inside him refused to let her end things like this. Her grabbed her wrist, whirling her around toward him.
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” he said in a low voice. “Do you really think I can jeopardize everything—my parents, my career, my freedom!—for this? If it were that simple, I could give you an answer!”
“Yes, it is that simple! Us being together isn’t going to get you charged with that crime. Us being together isn’t going to keep your parents from becoming citizens.”
He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell and shout to the sky and he wanted to kiss her until she melted against him. “It’s all tied together. All of this. All of us. Would us being together keep my parents from becoming citizens? No, it wouldn’t. But I’m already under a microscope with this investigation. Every move I make is being watched. If people saw that I was dating my boss’s younger sister, the sweet, innocent Grace Danvers? It wouldn’t end well.”
Grace just stared at him, her eyes widening. She didn’t try to pull away, though. He was afraid that he’d scared her. He was about to let her go, but she just placed her hands on his chest, feeling it pound beneath her palms.
They didn’t say anything, just breathed together. The sun was lowering below the horizon, and Jaime could feel the chill increase. But out here, with Grace, none of that mattered. He didn’t want it to matter for once in his life.
“I get what you’re saying,” she finally said. “I hear you. It breaks my heart, though.” Her voice seemed choked. “I wish it could be different.”
He let go of her wrists and enfolded her into a hug, placing his chin on top of her head. “Me too.”
They stood like that for a while, until they heard voices not far away. The family was probably convinced the two of them had run away together. He stepped away and said in a soft voice, “I am sorry. For everything. Goodbye, Graciela.” He kissed her forehead and then walked away, not wanting to return to the Danvers’ house. How could he? Now that he’d kissed their daughter, and how he longed to do more than kiss her. He’d come and get his car later, say that he got too tipsy to drive home so he decided to walk.
You can’t have her. You can’t have her and you need to accept that.
He clenched his fists. He stomped through the dry grass, watching as the moon rose overhead. It was gibbous, silver and shining, and it lit his way home. It was a few miles, but he didn’t care. He’d walk to the ends of the earth right now if he could. He’d dive to the bottom of the ocean if it gave him what he was looking for.
Grace had said he was running away. But how could he be with her when everything was against them? When his behavior could affect so many people negatively? How could he be selfish enough to jeopardize his parents like that? She didn’t understand how tenuous his situation was.
He had the strongest urge to talk to his parents. He laughed at the thought. Would they understand this? His father would just nod soberly. Don’t do anything you’ll regret, he’d say in his lisping El Salvadorian Spanish.
He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he read a text from Adam: Where did you go?
He considered not answering, but knowing his friend, Adam would probably send out a search party for him. Jaime typed quickly, Drank too much and decided to walk home. I’ll get my car in the morning. Thanks for inviting me.
No response for a few moments. Then the question: What did you and Grace talk about? When she came inside, she went straight upstairs to her room. She wouldn’t even let Joy come in.
Jaime grimaced. He really, really, really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. The only thing he was glad about was that it was over text. If Adam had called him, God only knows what he’d give away in his voice.
We just talked, is all. She was upset, and she didn’t want to go back inside.
Okay, well, thanks for doing that.
Jaime had a distinct feeling this wasn’t the end of this particular conversation, but he was too tired to care at this point. He finally made it home and, upon entering, he collapsed on the giant couch he’d splurged on when he’d moved to Heron’s Landing and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to sleep, but at the same time, he didn’t want to do anything, either.
He lay in the dark, hearing the house creak around him. He dozed briefly. He dreamed of Grace, and her hair, and her smile, and then it all coalesced into a painting that he couldn’t understand. It swirled in dark, bold colors, and when he tried to touch it, it started bleeding: in blues and purples and reds, smearing his fingers.
He awoke with a start. His phone was vibrating again in his pocket. He pulled it out, rubbing his eyes, to see a text from none other than Grace herself.
Thank you for coming out to talk to me. I hope you had a good Thanksgiving.
It was such a perfunctory message, especially in comparison to their kiss and their heated conversation, that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. Grace never failed to keep him on his toes.
You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, okay?
Don’t worry about me.
He set his phone on his coffee table, knowing there would never come a day when he didn’t worry—or think—about Grace Danvers.
Chapter Nine
Two weeks after Thanksgiving, Grace hadn’t seen nor spoken to Jaime. That had been a fairly difficult task, given the size of the town they lived in and Jaime’s connection to her family. But Grace had wanted to honor his wish to stop whatever it was they’d been doing, although in actuality, she’d been too frustrated with him to see his face and not shake him until his teeth rattled.
She’d had an idea forming in her mind since then. If one of the main reasons they couldn’t be together was because of this ridiculous investigation, then perhaps Grace could do something to prove Jaime’s innocence. At first she dismissed the idea as too ludicrous. What could she do? She had an art degree, not a police badge. But as the days passed and she longed for Jaime just as much as ever, she felt like she had to do something. It was better than waiting around, hoping things would change.