Love and Other Goals (Love and Other #1)

Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

T hat evening, I download Aaron’s conversation with Amaya and Teegan over extra-large slushies on the floor of our room. When I finish, they’re stunned into silence, which is quite the accomplishment for these two.

“I…wow,” is all Amaya can say.

“Yep,” I respond as I drain the final dregs from my giant cup.

“So, are you going to?” Teegan hesitantly asks.

“Am I going to…?”

“Talk to Mateo.”

“I don’t knowwwwww,” I groan, slumping to the ground and covering my face with a pillow. “What do you think?” I ask my two best friends, peeking my eyes above the pillow.

Amaya and Teegan glance back and forth at each other, both seeming reluctant to be the first to speak.

“I mean…Aaron did make some compelling points.” Teegan finally draws first blood.

My eyes bore into Amaya’s. “Look, Lana, I’m not going to tell you that you need to take Mateo back,” she begins, calculating her response. “But as much as I want to throat punch Aaron for everything he’s done, I do agree with him that you’ve been a shell of yourself. And as your best friends, it’s hard for us to watch. Especially when you were so happy with Mateo.”

Teegan jumps back in. “LaLa, you’ve grown a lot in your flexibility and willingness to change plans recently. Maybe Mateo deserves to see that.”

I give Teegan a blank stare, trying to recall my “stay-mad-at-Mateo” mental picture to loop again.

Then my bubbly, sweet best friend splashes ice water over my attempt. “And maybe you need to think back through if what Mateo said and did is really as unforgivable as you keep convincing yourself it was.”

“Ouch, Teegs,” I wince. Even Amaya looks a little shocked by Teegan’s straightforward statement.

Teegan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “He’s it for you, Lana. Mateo brought out all your best qualities because he saw you —Lana Grant, intensely-focused justice crusader with the biggest heart for vulnerable people . He wanted your dreams for you—I think he would have done anything to help you chase them down.” She pauses, voice choked with emotion. “You don’t have to limp through life miserable knowing you’ve been cut off from your person.”

Amaya and I just stare at her.

“Yes, he messed up. We all know that. He knows that. But don’t throw away the chance to have something so special just because you won’t admit that you were wrong too.” Teegan wipes her eyes and gives her head a shake. “I love you, Lana, and I’ll be in your corner no matter what. But you still have a chance to put these pieces back together, and I just…please don’t be too stubborn to miss it.”

I shower and let Teegan curl my hair while we watch a movie together. Even though I’m just going to sleep, it seems like a healing step to practice basic hygiene. I also want to assure Teegan I’m not mad after her honest comments .

Sleep proves hard to come by, and I wake early again Saturday morning. I quietly dress in leggings and an AOPi sweatshirt, grabbing my bag with my Bible and journal.

When I get to my car, there’s no note on my windshield. A wave of disappointment trickles through me as I drive to Bookafe and order a bottomless coffee. Out of habit, I make my way to my favorite table in the world corner. I open my journal, but no words flow from my pen. I look to the bookshelf next to me and run my finger over the same Salman Rushdie novel from the day Mateo revealed his feelings for me at this table.

The memory floods over me, and I close my eyes as the burning sensation of drowning squeezes my lungs. I was so caught off guard by his declaration that day that I didn’t even fully appreciate how thoughtful and sweet every word was, but now they waltz their way back through my thoughts. I sit in silence for hours, halfheartedly picking at a chocolate chip orange muffin and letting my coffee go cold as I stare at the empty pages of my journal.

When the tables around me start to fill with conversation, I pack up and leave, not quite sure what to do next. As I drive out of Center Square, I pass the plaza where the fall festival is held, dredging up more memories of Mateo: his total delight in celebrating my favorite season with me, the fiery sparks shooting through my arm when we held hands for the first time, his adorable nervousness when he asked me to be his girlfriend.

My subconscious has apparently turned into a glutton for punishment, because I find myself pulling into the parking lot of the soccer complex. I stare at the field where I rediscovered my love for soccer, where we played together, where I watched Mateo play. He was so talented. He is so talented. He deserves to keep playing, my thoughts betray, stinging my heart and eyes with guilt. I was so cruelly self-centered that I didn’t even consider that this was a dream he deserved.

I contemplate driving to Mateo’s house, to crack open the door to conversation.

Instead, I keep driving and driving, out of the Brooklyn city limits. I arrive at the prairie reserve and put my car in park, looking out at the rolling hills where spring green is fully overtaking the brown of winter.

After queuing up my Moody Mellow playlist, I pocket my phone as I get out of the car and put in one ear bud. I start meandering down the path, too slow and aimless to label it hiking or even walking. Pausing frequently to stare out at the sky, I eventually find myself approaching the parking area where Mateo and I had our first real date.

My breath starts to catch, but I speed walk through till I’m back on the hiking path. I fight the urge to look back to the very spot I first found myself starting to fall for Mateo. My brain chooses this moment to tune in to the music playing in my ear, just in time to hear Taylor sing, I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right.

“I don’t need your commiseration right now, Taylor!” I yell out loud, yanking the ear bud out. I pause on the trail and half sit against a rock, eyes filling with tears.

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to stem the flow. But I can’t silence the voice that’s been pounding with increasing volume on the door of my heart all morning. You’re being too stubborn to admit you’ve made a massive mistake!

Staring out at the horizon, I take in the beams of sunlight cutting their way through the thick, puffy white clouds filling in the sky. I focus on the sounds of birds calling to each other, the sensation of the breeze cooling my skin and swirling through my hair.

I have made a massive mistake.

I’m overwhelmed by the compelling urge to find Mateo, to explain to him how I’ve realized I need to be open to change, to not cement my plans all the time. I need to tell him I’m sorry for being so quick to leave him behind when I perceived him as a threat to my goals. I need to tell him that I trust him. That I love him.

With determination in my step, I begin walking back the way I came. When I reach the space of our first date, I stare down at the ground and bite my cheek to fight against the tears in my eyes. I’ve been such an idiot.

“Lana?”

I jump. My heart knows my name in that voice. It starts beating wildly even before I look up to see Mateo standing in front of me.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he says apologetically. My eyes take him in, feeding information to my brain to process. He’s wearing his favorite pair of Nike joggers and a Townsend Soccer hoodie, looking athletic and attractive as per usual. But there are dark circles under his eyes, and the stubble along his chin is more unkempt than usual, creeping down his neck in a disheveled way.

The information my mind latches onto, though, is the hollow, haunted look in his eyes. My body physically hurts seeing those hot chocolate eyes, usually so full of joy and warmth, looking so drained.

“I…I know you haven’t wanted to see me, Lana,” Mateo begins. “Teegan communicated your request, and I’ve tried to honor that. After the hundredth or so text message left unread, I accepted the fact that you’d blocked my number. I assumed my unanswered notes meant you didn’t want to talk. I’ve tried to imagine you confidently moving forward, working toward your dreams like you always do, even if that meant without me. Tried to will myself to let you move on.”

I try to swallow the huge lump in my throat, but it refuses to budge.

“I’m sorry for intruding today, but…” he pauses and looks down at the ground, clearing his throat. “Aaron talked to me this week and apologized for everything that he did. And…he told me that he hates himself for doing something that made you so miserable. That he can’t stand to see how depressed and closed off you’ve been.

“So, I decided I needed to try, just try, to talk to you so you could at least have some peace. I’ve been practicing what I’d say for a couple of days, trying to get it right. When you weren’t at AOPi, I drove all over town to each of your favorite spots, hoping to find you. Rubbing salt in the wound,” he says with a pained look. “I saw your car parked here, and, well, here I am.”

I still haven’t said anything, but I haven’t stopped him either, hoping that’s enough permission for him to keep talking since my brain and vocal cords can’t seem to coordinate.

“I just…I’m so sorry, Lana,” he hangs his head, and I see him fighting back tears. “Hindsight is 20/20, and I know that I should have told you about the professional soccer opportunity the first day Coach Anderson called. I should have included you. It was unfair of me to go so far down an alternate path without even talking to you about it, even if I thought I was protecting you. I’d go back for a do-over in a heartbeat,” he says, regret dripping from his voice.

“And I’m sorry for doubting you about Aaron. I should have just trusted you. I do trust you. When we were at the fall festival, I overheard your conversation with Aaron in the alley.” My heart hiccups at his admission as he continues. “I heard you tell him that you didn’t like him anymore, that he wouldn’t be your backup option because you were all-in on our relationship.”

He pauses with a sad smile. “I heard you say it, and that’s what gave me the confidence to ask you to be official.” His eyes water again as he says, “But I let doubts get in the way, insecurities about your old feelings for him needle their way back in when you started seeing each other regularly this semester. It was obvious his feelings for you never faded, and I just got so in my head over whether I might lose you to him.

“It’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did about Adams telling you my plans. I’m so ashamed of how I treated you that night,” he says in a choked voice. I can barely see through the tears in my eyes, but I know he’s fighting them as well as he stares at the ground, jaw flexing, hands buried in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Lana, I need you to know that I love you. That before…before I ruined everything between us, I was going to…” He draws a shuddered breath in as he stares at his hands, which are fidgeting with a velvet ring box. My eyes widen .

“I was going to ask you for forever. I bought this. I had a whole plan, but then…” His voice breaks off, the tears pouring unhindered out of his eyes.

My heart implodes all over again, and I bring my hand up to stifle a sob from escaping.

“I’m so sorry I ruined it, Lana,” Mateo continues, his pained eyes meeting mine. “I can’t go back and change it, as much as I wish I could. And I can’t expect you not to date other people. But, know that I won’t be. Because I’ve loved you for such a long—” His voice breaks again as he swipes at his eyes. “I’ve loved you for such a long time, I don’t think I can ever stop. So I’ll be holding out hope that I can find my way back to you someday, no matter how long it may take.”

Waves of tears make their way down my cheeks, dripping onto my sweatshirt, my hair sticking to the wet streaks as the breeze whirls it around me. I wipe my face with the sleeves of my sweatshirt, taking a deep breath.

“You don’t have to say anything back, Lana,” Mateo says sadly. He quietly adds, “I just needed you to know.”

I take in the sight of this man I grew to love so much, standing in front of me in so much pain. Pain I had caused by my stubborn refusal to let go of my plans or to admit that I overreacted. I don’t want to lose him, my heart screams, finally kicking my brain into gear.

Mateo turns to leave, and I take a step forward. “Wait, Mateo. Please don’t go.”

He turns back to me, a pinprick of cautious hope in his eyes.

“You weren’t the only one who ruined our relationship, Mateo. I did too. Probably more than you did. I felt so threatened at the prospect of losing control of the future I had mapped out that I totally overreacted and lashed out at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for looking at you as a threat to my future instead of as a gift. You’ve always been a gift. I’m sorry for pushing you away that night, and then pushing you further and further instead of admitting that I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

“You should be playing soccer—you deserve to keep playing soccer,” I tell him with a watery smile. “I was such a brat to not even acknowledge how incredible it was that you had the opportunity to go pro. I’m sorry I was so selfish. The truth is, I miss watching you play soccer.”

I take another deep breath.

“I miss the way you smile at me, that teasing, satisfied smile you get every time you make me blush. I miss you constantly weaving your fingers through my hair,” I continue, pausing to sniff and wipe my cheeks again. “I miss talking to you about everything. I miss watching the way you make people feel important—the boys at The Hangout, my family, your family, the guys on your soccer team, literally everyone you interact with,” I say with a small laugh. “I miss the safe feeling of your arms around me. I miss the pattern of your heartbeat. I miss the way you kiss me, with so much tenderness and passion that they shouldn’t even be able to coexist in the same kiss.”

Mateo isn’t even trying to wipe the tears from his face as he watches me, listening patiently like he always does. I take a steadying breath to try to stem the heaving sobs in my chest. “I miss you , Mateo. I’ve been slowly dying inside since I walked away from you, but I was too stubborn to admit it. But I love you. I love you, and I want forever with you.”

In a heartbeat, Mateo has closed the gap between us, pulling me into a kiss that feels like every dream in the universe coming true. But just as quickly, he lets go and takes a step back.

“Wait, Lana, before you decide you want to be together, you deserve to know the whole situation,” he says, holding both my hands between us. “Coach Anderson got hired by Lincoln United, and I accepted a spot on one of the League Two teams that they draw from. If I play well this summer, I’ll likely get bumped to his team next year. I can’t be in California, but I’m willing to figure out a way for us to still be together, to do anything to be with you. But you deserve the choice. You’re not giving up your dream—I won’t let you.”

My heart swells with pride. He did it. He made it pro. I throw my arms around his neck and tell him, “I’m so proud of you, Mateo.” I feel moisture against my neck where his face is buried. I pull back, taking his hands again. “You deserve this. I’m so happy for you.”

He smiles at me, that dimple taking me in all over again. “Thank you, Lana. That means a lot.” His smile falters. “But Virginia is pretty far away from California.”

The gears in my mind suddenly start firing on all cylinders. “Wait, Virginia? What part of Virginia?”

Mateo looks at me quizzically. “Pretty far north, in Leesburg. Basically the northeast outskirts of Washington D.C.”

My heart stops, so full of joy it can’t even contract. I feel a smile spread across my face, and see Mateo’s confusion in response. I reach my hand up to his chin, tracing the stubble on his jawline with my fingers.

“Mateo, I’m not going to UC Davis next year,” I whisper.

He grabs my hand from his cheek and holds it against his chest. “What are you talking about, Lana? You’re in, you worked so hard to get there, and you’re already accepted. Why would you not go?”

I smile up at him. “Because I’m moving to D.C. instead. I’m deferring law school for a year and going to work as Elena’s assistant.”

Mateo’s eyes widen in surprise, and I feel his heart pounding against my hand. He’s looking at me like it’s too good to be true. “We’ll be in the same place?”

“Same place. But even if we weren’t, I’d still want forever with you,” I say before leaning up on my tiptoes to continue the kiss he interrupted.

For a perfect, time-stopping moment, everything is right in my world. Mateo’s hands are woven through my hair, cradling my head. Spice market Christmas tree farm smell surrounds me as his lips declare his love over and over to mine.

He breaks the magic again, untangling me from his embrace against my whined protests. “Wait just one minute, Lana,” he says with a laugh as he pries my arms off his waist. He reaches out a hand to stop me when I try to step back to him. “You. Stay here. ”

And then he’s down on his knee, velvet box in hand, love shining in his eyes as he looks up at me. “Lana, I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m going to love you more every year for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

I don’t even bother to look at the ring, because all I can see is the moisture gathered in Mateo’s sweet eyes as he smiles at me. I lean down to place my hands on his cheeks as I answer, “Yes! Forever yes. I love you, Mateo.”

He stands up and crushes me against his chest, my happy tears soaking into his hoodie. He lets go just enough to slip the ring onto my finger, which I barely glance at because I’m so enamored by the man in front of me. My fiancé. How in the world did I ever convince myself that I could live without him? I want both dreams.

Mateo pulls out his phone and pushes a few buttons until a familiar song starts playing. “Would you care to dance?” he asks with a grin. I laugh as he twirls me around and then settles me close in his arms, our hands tucked under his chin, his other hand softly caressing the lengths of my hair.

I rest my head against his heart, smiling.

I found a love, for me.