12. Sebastian
Sebastian
T he sun beats down on the basketball court, relentless and unforgiving. The asphalt radiates heat, the type that seeps through your sneakers and sticks to your skin.
Sweat drips down my back, and the air is thick—humid, suffocating. It feels impossible to breathe, but I know that has nothing to do with the weather.
I need this game, I need something to take the edge off, to shut my brain down, to stop thinking about her.
Mateo and I are running a two-on-two against Andres and Cap, and we’re getting our asses handed to us. I should’ve known better than to let Cap be on the other team. He’s a damn beast on the court—built for endurance, strategy, and completely wrecking anyone in his way.
Normally, I’d be up for the challenge. Today, I’m playing like complete shit. Every shot I take is off—too much force, not enough aim.
My focus is scattered, my movements sluggish. It’s like my body is here, but my mind is somewhere else entirely—and I know exactly where; cliff diving with Mariana wrecked me. Not just because she actually jumped, though that alone was wild, but because of the way she looked at me afterward.
The way she held onto my hand—like she trusted me more than anything. The way she surfaced from the water, tears mixing with the river, looking at me like she wanted to say something real. Something important. But she didn’t, and that silence? That’s what’s been eating me alive.
I don’t know what she was thinking. I don’t know if she was crying because she was overwhelmed, or because she was hurting, or because she was feeling something for me that she didn’t want to admit.
But I know one thing for sure—Mariana doesn’t cry easily. When she does, it wrecks me every damn time.
Lucia is sick. Seriously sick. I know that’s weighing on her, suffocating her. It kills me, and I know it’s killing her too. Lucia has been in my life since before I could remember.
She’s always been this force—warm and strong, fierce in her love. She took care of Anna and me like we were hers, and when Mariana and I started dating, it felt like fate.
Now, all I can do is watch from the sidelines as the one person who has always been Mariana’s rock is slipping away. I hate it.
I also can’t shake this feeling that there’s more—something deeper, something she hasn’t said, something about her husband.
She’s never told me the details, but I know in my gut that something happened before he died.
I can feel it, and I swear to God, if that man were alive, I’d be beating the shit out of him right now.
I don’t need to know what he did to know he fucked up.
I can see it in the way Mariana carries herself—how guarded she is, how much of herself she holds back.
I can feel it in the way she hesitates, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, like she’s still bracing for impact even though the worst has already come and gone.
She needs to feel safe, she needs to know that she can trust me—and I meant what I said, I’ll be there. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.
Mateo throws the ball over to me, breaking me free of my thoughts. I catch it, dribbling between my legs, the ball hitting the asphalt with a sharp, steady rhythm.
Cap is guarding me, a solid wall of muscle and experience, and I know there’s no way I’m getting around him. I fake a drive, then pivot, making a move to pass to Mateo, but Cap sees it coming. The second I go airborne for the pass, he jumps too, slapping the ball clean out of my hands.
“Damn it,” I mutter, already moving to chase it down, but Cap is too fast. He grabs it and sprints toward the basket like he’s got rockets strapped to his feet.
Mateo is right on his tail, but Cap fakes left, pulls back, and crosses over so damn smoothly, it’s like watching a highlight reel.
“Shit!” Mateo yells, and at the same time, Andres laughs, “Ohhhh!”
Cap doesn’t even look at me as he sets up for a clean jump shot. Swish. Game over.
Mateo groans, doubling over with his hands on his knees. “Bro, you’re built different.”
Cap smirks, wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. “You guys just need to step it up.”
I exhale hard, hands on my hips, my breath still coming too fast. I should care that we lost. I should be annoyed, talking shit, demanding a rematch. But I can’t bring myself to care, because my head is still with her.
We collapse onto the grass under a tree, gulping down water, trying to cool off. The air smells like sun-warmed earth and freshly cut grass, the distant sounds of kids playing and car engines humming somewhere down the street.
Andres tosses me a water bottle, but I react too late, and it smacks me in the chest before I finally grab it.
Andres eyes me. “Alright, what the hell is up with you today?”
I twist the cap off and take a long drink, trying to buy myself a second before answering. “What are you talking about?”
Andres scoffs. “Oh, here we go. You’re really gonna sit there and act clueless?”
Cap watches me carefully now, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious. “Everything good? Something up with Maya or Analyse?”
That gets Mateo’s attention too; they all know I’d drop everything for my sister and niece in a heartbeat.
I shake my head. “No, Maya and Lyse are fine.” I sigh, running a hand over my face. “It’s Mariana.”
Mateo immediately grins, like he just won some kind of bet. “Knew it.”
I frown. “What?”
He leans back on his elbows, smug as hell. “Told Andres you were in your feelings about Mariana. I just didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
Before I can argue, Cap cuts in. “What’s wrong with Mariana?”
“Nothing,” I say automatically. But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie.
Cap tilts his head, studying me. “Then I don’t get it.”
Andres sighs, shaking his head. “He’s in love with her. Again. Still. Who the hell knows. But definitely in love.”
I freeze. “What?” I scoff. “I never said that.”
“So you’re not in love with Mariana?” Cap asks, his voice measured, even.
I hesitate, and that hesitation is all they need.
Mateo snorts. “Yep. That’s what I thought.”
They all start talking at once, giving me shit, calling me out, refusing to let me keep lying to myself. And fuck, They’re right.
I lean back in the grass, staring up at the sky, at the burning sun, at anything but them, because they know me, they know about our history.
They know how I spent years trying to convince myself I was over her, that I’d moved on, that if she ever came back, I’d be fine. Now she’s back, and I feel like I’m drowning.
I glance at Andres and Mateo, still running their mouths, then shift my gaze to Cap, who’s just watching, thinking.
After a long beat, he says, “Seb, if you have feelings for her, that’s okay, you know that, right?”
The others shut up instantly, because when Cap speaks, everyone listens.
I swallow hard.
“You and Mari have history,” he continues. “You two grew up together. You fell in love, and then she left—not you, but this city. And yeah, that hurt, that broke you. But that doesn’t mean you ever stopped loving her.”
I don’t say anything.
“If you want to be with her, that’s okay,” Cap says. “And if you just want to be her friend, that’s okay too. Whatever you decide—we support you.”
Andres and Mateo both nod.
Suddenly, I feel exhausted—I know that I need to figure this out. I need to decide if I’m willing to risk it all again or if I need to figure out how to finally let her go.
Either way—I need to stop pretending I don’t already know the answer.