47. Graciella
FORTY-SEVEN
GRACIELLA
“LET ME SHOW YOU HOW MUCH YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED.”
My whole chest felt like someone had scooped out everything inside and left it empty. Numb.
Itzel hadn’t said much since we left. Both hands were on the wheel, eyes on the road, the radio turned down. All I heard was the hum of the highway and the low thrum of tires eating up asphalt.
But I could feel the burn of her gaze on me.
“I’m fine,” I said, before she could ask.
“You keep saying that b—”
“It’s better this way,” I bit out, hating the wobble in my voice.
“For who?”
“For him. For Goldie. For…” I swallowed. “For everyone.”
“Chella.” Her voice was soft. “I was there. I saw the way he looked at you. I know he’d understand. Just talk—”
“Itze.” My tone was harsh, seeped in desperation. I couldn’t hear those words. Couldn’t hear that I should “just talk to him.”
A sob clawed its way up before I could stop it.
“Every time I thought about telling him, I heaved. I actually threw up.” I picked at my thumb out of habit, but it had been bare since Saturday night.
“It sounds so fucking obvious to just talk until you’re the one in that position.
” My voice cracked. “My heart is already broken and maybe…maybe I want to try and retain the little bit that’s still there by leaving on my own terms.”
The rumble of the road under tires was the only sound filling the car for a long moment.
“I’m not trying to make this harder,” Itzel said, breaking the charged silence. “And I understand what you’re saying, I do, but…do you actually want to run? Or are you doing it because it’s familiar?”
My chest cracked, open and raw, the truth daring me to stare it down and claim it was a lie. I looked at the road, losing myself in the white dashes disappearing under the hood, wishing I could disappear, too.
But do you really?
I pressed my lips together.
When had running become my default? When did it become that whenever things got too real, too close, too much, I hit the emergency exit without thinking twice?
My dad. The job in Dallas. Now this.
My throat tightened until swallowing hurt.
“I did the right thing,” I said, but it sounded more like a question. “I did what I had to do to protect him.”
“I know you did.” Itzel risked glancing over. “But you can do what’s right for him and still decide what’s right for you. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
My eyelids fell shut, pushing over the tears pooling at the corners.
I could find my way back to a desk, a strategy, a client who needed me. That part of my life was replaceable. There would be other jobs. Other chances to prove myself.
But there wouldn’t be another Goldie, pressing her sticky hand into mine.
There wouldn’t be another Josh, holding my face and telling me he’d keep my secrets.
Those I couldn’t rebuild somewhere else.
Those only happened once…
And I was leaving them behind.
My eyes flew open.
“Turn around.”
Itzel blinked. “What?”
“Turn around.” I twisted toward her in the seat. “Take me to Monroe’s house.”
She stared at me for a second and then smiled, giving one quick nod before moving toward the exit ramp.
“His interview is probably ending soon,” I said, thinking out loud, my brain already running the logistics. “He’ll probably go home after. Practice was earlier—”
“He’ll be home. Or will be soonish,” she said, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.
“What…” I narrowed my eyes. “You were never going to take me to the airport, were you?”
She merged onto the exit ramp. “I was going to take you…but I wasn’t going to let you get on that plane. Just like Ariella won’t let him wonder where you are.” She glanced at the screen on her dashboard. “You changed your mind quicker than I’d planned for, so we’ll probably beat them there.”
I exhaled something that was almost a laugh.
“You’re the best.”
“I know.”
Monroe’s neighborhood was quiet. Old trees cast shadows across the pavement, the houses set back from the sidewalk. Itzel pulled up to the curb and put the car in park.
I sat there for a second, hand hovering over the handle.
“You good?” she asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m going anyway.”
I got out before I could think too hard about it.
The walk up to the front door was approximately one thousand miles long. My heart was beating loudly in my chest, and my palms were damp.
I raised my hand and knocked, fighting back the need to hurl in his planter.
The door flung open.
But it wasn’t Josh.
A woman in her early sixties with warm blue eyes and brunette hair laced with silver stood there, a soft smile on her face.
“You must be Graciella. I’m Josh’s mom, Cindy. I was waiting for you to show up.” She held the door open wider, signaling for me to come in. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you two love birds actin’ like fools so we can fix it.”
“I…how did you know?” I asked, stepping past her, my body seemingly on autopilot.
“I know I look twenty-five, but I’m actually nearly sixty.” She drew a laugh from me. “And you don’t live to my age without experiencing heartache. I’ve always found it helps to get it off your chest.”
She pulled out a barstool and sat, waiting for me to follow.
I didn’t know what it was. The steadiness of her blue eyes, same as her son’s. The way she wasn’t pushing, just waiting, like she knew I’d get there. But whatever it was, the floodgates opened, and everything spilled out.
“He’s going to be pissed when he figures out what I’ve done. But I…I didn’t have any other choice. It was leak a story that I’d pursued him…” A pain-filled sob slipped past my lips. I pressed my fingers to my mouth.
“Or what?” she asked, clasping her hand over where mine lay folded on the marble. “Why didn’t you have a choice, sweetheart?”
“She was running a story regardless, and he…he’s already lost a career once, and no one in the NHL stood up for him.
” I shook my head. “He’s not anything like what they painted him as, what he lets them see.
” I looked at her. “He didn’t deserve to look like the bad guy again when he’s never been one to begin with. ”
She smiled, patting my hand. “That doesn’t sound like anything to be heartbroken about…”
My eyes stung again. “I didn’t tell him I was doing it.”
“Ah.” She nodded, eyes revealing her understanding. “Have you asked yourself why you didn’t tell him? Why you didn’t go to him and solve this together?”
I nodded my head.
“I thought if I handled it, he wouldn’t have to. Wouldn’t have to choose between protecting me and protecting himself. Because what if he didn’t choose m—” My voice cracked, and I pressed my lips together, waiting a beat to try again.
Cindy was quiet for a moment.
“What if he didn’t choose you?” she asked gently. “But isn’t that his decision to make? Don’t you want to know if he would, instead of living life always wondering?”
I opened my mouth and closed it, letting the question sit heavily between us.
I took his decision from him.
She tilted her head, and for a second, I could see Monroe. The set of her jaw, the steadiness of her eyes. “You gave him every reason to trust you. Did you give yourself the same reasons to trust him?”
“Oh my god, I’m wrong for him,” I said, dropping my head in my hands. “Why would he want to be with me when I didn’t trust him?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Her smile was small and certain.
“You came back. And god knows he’s not perfect, so there should be no damn reason that son of mine should expect you to be.
Besides, lovin’ someone is messy. A lifetime of mistakes, but all that really matters is you’re willing to learn from them. To change where it matters.”
My jaw went slack, but I didn’t get a chance to respond.
“Gracie!”
Goldie hit me around the knees, arms locked on my legs like a vice.
“Goldie, baby, give Gracie a minute—” Cindy started.
“It’s okay.” I lifted her into my lap. “Hey, Golden Girl.”
“Why are you crying?” she asked, brows furrowed as she clumsily swiped at a rogue tear.
I opened my mouth, but had absolutely no idea what to say to a five-year-old about any of this.
“Iss okay,” she told me, shoving her raggedy bunny in my face. “Jingle Bells Bunny will make you feel better.”
Warmth spread through my chest at her innocence, and I clutched both of them to my chest. “You both make me feel better,” I managed.
The garage door flung open, the sound cracking through the house. Goldie’s head snapped up, and I was on my feet before I’d consciously decided to stand.
Josh filled the doorway.
He was still in his suit jacket, collar askew, chest heaving like he’d run the last block. His eyes swept the kitchen until they found me.
Everything stopped.
“Graciella.”
It came out rough. Wrecked.
“Daddy!” Goldie launched herself out of my arms and at her father, and he caught her automatically, arms folding around her without breaking eye contact with me. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured something against her hair.
Cindy appeared, lifting Goldie from his arms. “Come on, Golds, let’s go play in your room for a bit.”
Then they were gone, and Monroe crossed the room in two steps.
I didn’t back up. I stood there with my heart trying to climb out of my throat.
He stopped close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to hold his gaze. His jaw was tight, eyes red-rimmed.
That detail nearly undid me.
“You were just going to leave.” His voice was low.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was trying to make sure that I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what?” He exhaled hard through his nose.
“Didn’t ruin anything.” I threw an arm out. “You have this whole life, and I made it worse.”
My eyes burned.
He searched my face, his thumb catching the tear that had slipped past my lashes.
“Graciella Xochitl Barrera. You are the most stubborn, hardheaded woman I have ever met. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me…to Goldie.” His hands framed my face. “I am a better man with you by my side, Trouble.”
He pressed his lips to my hair. My temple.
The corner of my trembling mouth.
“My daughter may be my sun.” Another kiss, soft against my lips. “But you are my moon. And I don’t want to live my life without you both in it.”
A river streamed from my eyes, and I didn’t bother stopping it.
He pulled back just enough to reach into his pocket, and then he held out his phone. I blinked, trying to see through the blur.
It took me a second to register what I was looking at.
Josh, in this same suit, sitting in the interview room I’d been in that morning. His jaw set.
“Play it,” he said.
The clip picked up mid-sentence, his voice coming through the speaker, slightly tinny but unmistakable.
“Graciella Xochitl Barrera.” His voice was steady. “I don’t know if you’re watching. But if you are, I need you to hear this. You are the person I trust, the person who has had my back.” He looked at the lens like he could see me. “The person I love. I told you I’d chase you. I meant it.”
A murmur moved through the room on the recording.
My hand flew to my mouth.
The clip ended.
“Josh.” My voice came out completely wrecked. He’d told them all, told the world, told me, he loved me.
“I’m not finished. I want it to be abundantly clear that you’re mine, and that I want the world to know.” He took the phone back, scrolled, and turned the screen.
Photo after photo of me. Ones I’d sent and others I had no clue he’d taken.
I pressed my fingers hard against my lips.
The sob that came out of me was embarrassingly ugly, and I didn’t care.
He took the phone back, scrolled once more, then held it out.
“You said I should do something romantic like buy a star, so I got three.” His voice was rough around the edges. “Right next to each other. I tried to buy the moon. Apparently, that’s not an option.”
Star registration documents—Graciella. Goldie. Monroe.
It was the most ridiculous, perfect thing anyone had ever done.
“You don’t even actually own the stars, you know?” I whispered, pulling the phone against my chest.
His forehead dropped to mine, tears trickling down both our cheeks.
“I should have come to you,” I whispered. “I should have…I was so afraid that if I brought it to you, you’d have to choose, and I couldn’t—” My throat closed.
“Hey.” His hand slid to my jaw, tilting my face up. “Look at me. I would have chosen you.” He said it with a ferocity that sent a shiver through me. “Every single time, I’ll chose you Graciella. But you have to let me.”
“I know.” I nodded, hoping he’d hear how much I meant it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m not good at trusting that someone will…” I stopped. “I’ve been leaving before people could leave me, before they could inflict damage…I didn’t think about the damage I’d do to someone who loved me.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Let me show you how much you deserve to be loved.” He cupped my face. “Trust me with your heart, the way I trust you with mine.”
“What if I screw up again?” My voice was small.
His mouth curved.
“Oh, you will.”
I whacked his shoulder. “Monroe, I’m serious, what if I panic and do something impulsive—”
“I’m chasing after you, Trouble.” His thumb swept across my cheekbone. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I’ll probably be the one to fuck up. I’m a man, after all.”
A laugh cracked out of me, wet and broken.
“You’re right. What was I thinking?”
He kissed the top of my head.
“I love you, Graciella Xochitl Barrera.”
Everything in me went still, filling with so much joy I thought my chest might burst.
“I love you, too, Josh M—”
“Are you done being sad yet?” Goldie’s yell floated down the hall. “I want to go get a drink, like ice cream.”
Monroe laughed against my forehead. “Stay with me? With us?” he asked, the words coated in vulnerability.
I lifted my eyes to his. The corners of my mouth pulled up.
I knew in my heart there was only one answer.
“You gonna beg for it, Joshua?”
He dropped to his knees without an ounce of hesitation, hands gripping my hips. My cheeks heated. I’d been joking, but the sincerity in his face had my heart stuttering.
“Until my very last breath, Trouble.”