Watching him as he stood in front of me, barely moving, I took another step back.

His mouth fell open, but no words came out besides, “Lina.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “I don’t expect anything from you. As I told you, it’s water under the bridge now.”

His lips snapped closed, his shoulders falling in what I hoped was acceptance.

“But I can tell you this much: I am happy.”

And I was. Confused too, if I was being honest. Yes, my heart was mixed up and disoriented. Terrified on top of all that. But there was a force that seemed to tear the shell of fear that covered that poor and beat-up organ, seeping through the cracks and wanting to obliterate all those doubts if I let it. Promising safety and comfort.

But that wasn’t a conversation I owed to Daniel. I did to someone else.

Someone I needed to make my way back to.

I was about to turn in my heels and do exactly that when someone who always managed to put a smile on my face turned around the corner.

“What have you been doing here for so long, cariño?” Abuela asked in Spanish, looking over at Daniel. “Oh, I see now.” She shot him a sideways glance and ignored him altogether. When she looked back at me, her lips were tugging up, mischief written all over her face. “That boyfriend of yours is sitting on that table, looking like an abandoned puppy.” She linked her arm with mine, and I felt a little lighter already. “He ordered you dessert, you know? And he keeps staring at where you left, like he is holding himself from coming to get you.”

My belly flopped, a fluttering sensation taking over. “He is?”

Abuela patted my arm. “Of course he is, boba.” She clicked her tongue, pulling us back to the restaurant. “He didn’t even ask for two spoons, so he knows that getting you to share is fruitless.” She snickered, and I tried to ignore how the flutter was now spreading to my chest.

“He … he’s pretty perfect,” I murmured, surprising myself.

“Yes,” she said without thinking much about it. “That’s why you shouldn’t leave him sitting alone for so long. He’s too beautiful for his own good.”

He was—for my own good too.

“You think he will save me a dance tomorrow?”

“I think he will.” I didn’t have a doubt in my mind he would. “Only if you ask nicely, Abuela.”

She giggled, and I knew without a doubt that I’d probably have to fight my own grandmother over my fake boyfriend’s attention.

Then, the woman who had snuck chocolate after bedtime more than a million times guided us back to where the rest of the family was, chatting animatedly.

Right before reaching the table, she lowered her voice. “They didn’t make men like that back in my day. Abuelo was handsome but not like that. Although it wasn’t his looks that won me over.” She winked. “You know what I mean.”

“Abuela!” I loud-whispered.

She patted my arm. “Don’t play coy around me. I’m old. I know better. Now, go.”

A pair of blue eyes immediately found mine. They bounced to Abuela and then somewhere behind me. Looking around, I noticed Daniel was a few steps behind us.

After parting ways with my grandmother, I let my gaze fall back on my fake date as I made my way to him. I could see the unease edged in Aaron’s handsome face. His jaw was clenched, and his forehead was bunched. When his gaze met mine once more, his eyes held questions and that protectiveness I had felt a few minutes ago when Daniel had mentioned his name. It was clear as a cloudless summer day.

Aaron was worried. He was holding himself back from meeting me halfway and asking me what the hell had happened. He cared. He cared about me. And he’d shield me, hold me, or just stand by my side if I so much as opened my mouth to ask. I knew. Hell, he would even if I didn’t ask.

Honest, genuine concern. Contrary to whatever Daniel had claimed.

Letting myself fall delicately on my chair, I took a moment to plaster a calm smile on my face. A neutral expression. But my lips probably curled the wrong way, my features displaying everything still churning inside of me after my exchange with Daniel because when I turned and faced Aaron, his eyes flared more intensely.

I willed my lips to inch higher, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

My sister started chattering about something—what exactly, I couldn’t tell. My head was somewhere else.

My hands were in my lap when I felt Aaron’s palm fall against them. For the second time tonight, he interlaced our hands. Our fingers weaved together, each and every one of them. But this time, he kept our linked hands right where they were—on the top of my thigh. As if he was trying to tell me, this way—with them below the table, hidden from everyone else—meant that this was just for us. Not a part of the charade.

He squeezed my hand with purpose, his fingers tightening around mine, his palm warm against my skin. Just for us, it seemed to reassure me. To promise me.

And like the biggest dummy in the universe, I found the greatest comfort in those five long fingers. In that warm palm. So, I brought our joined hands closer to my belly, and I squeezed right back.

There was something lodged right in between my ribs that felt a lot like a ticking bomb.

“I can hear the gears in your head spinning,” Aaron said as he crossed the room in that pair of pajama pants, which was doing mad things to my belly again. Same went for the T-shirt. He was wearing the one he had slept in yesterday.

At least he was wearing one. I didn’t think I could take shirtless Aaron right now.

“I’m okay,” I lied, my head throbbing with every replay of my conversation with Daniel. It had been on a loop since we left the restaurant. “Just going through everything I need to get done before the big day tomorrow.”

Which was what I should have been busy doing.

Clad in my sleeping clothes too, I aligned the two pairs of heels—the ones I’d wear and the backup—on the floor. Right against the wall. Meticulously leaving the same space between them.

I stepped back, admiring my work. Nope.

Unconvinced, I knelt and rearranged them.

When I had something in my mind, I did one of two things. I compulsively ate or organized. And considering we had just had dinner and seeing the pile of neatly stacked clothes and perfectly in line items displayed on top of the dresser, it seemed that this one time, it was the latter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Aaron plopping himself on the bed with an ease and finesse no one his size should have.

“There’s smoke coming out of your ears.” He rested his back on the headboard, and the wood complained under his weight.

I reached for the shoes again, moving them an inch to the right. “I don’t think so,” I said in a clipped tone. Then, I moved the two pairs half an inch to the left. “For that, I would need to be overthinking something. And I’m not doing that.”

“Oh, but you are,” he said from his position on the bed. “Talk to me.”

I didn’t bother answering him. Hearing his sigh, I kept my focus on my task.

Maybe if they face the wall—

“Catalina,” Aaron called.

And the way he had said it made me turn around and face him.

“Come here.” He patted the bed with his hand.

Brows bunched, I sent him a look.

“Sit with me for a little while, and then you can go back to torturing those shoes into perfection,” he told me with a sigh. “Just for a few minutes.” Then, he placed his palm on the comforter again. When I didn’t say anything or move, he added very softly, like it would break his heart if I didn’t give him this one thing, “Please.”

That please, that freaking please and the way he had said it, launched my legs forward.

Before I knew what I was doing, my ass was on the bed, right beside his hip. I knew what he wanted to talk about. That cocktail of emotions and memories and questions that had slowly been assembling in my head. The one I had brought back to the apartment, and that I knew if I so much as opened my mouth, it would burst and spill right out of me. But that meant completely confiding in Aaron. Telling him about a part of my past that I didn’t find any joy in revisiting. Giving him a key that would help him understand—know—me better. And did I want to do that? Could I do it without wanting to tuck my head in his chest and look for comfort in him?