Chapter 11 – Analyse #2
He leans in, just slightly, and brushes his thumb gently against the corner of my mouth. Powdered sugar. The contact is brief. But it’s enough to completely short-circuit my brain.
His hand drops back to his lap. “You good?” he asks, voice low.
I nod. Liar, liar. “Yeah,” I say. “Just…sugar rush.”
He smirks. “Sure.”
I take a long gulp of my cider. “I’m serious,” I say.
Mateo stretches one long leg out in front of him and bumps my foot lightly with his. “You’ve got your overthinking face on,” he murmurs.
“I do not have an overthinking face.”
He side-eyes me. “You absolutely do.”
Before I can argue, Maya appears out of nowhere with powdered fingers and sticky cheeks. “Picture time!” she announces.
Anna is already waving everyone over toward the big photo wall set up by the cider stand—stacked hay bales, scarecrows, and pumpkins.
Mariana hands her phone over to one of the teens working the stand. “Hi! Can you take a picture of all of us, please? Like, multiple? Don’t be shy with the shutter.”
Seb and Andres immediately start striking ridiculous poses—Seb throws his arm around the scarecrow, looking like he made a new lifelong pal, and Andres kicks a leaf pile into the air.
Mariana rolls her eyes and grabs Seb by the shirt, dragging him back in line. “You’re taking one normal photo. Please. For the family album.”
Maya plops herself in front of everyone, cheeks puffed, ready to burst with joy and excitement. “Mateo, come here!”
He steps in beside her, and without hesitation, lifts her into his arms. She squeals and wraps her arms around his neck, giggling.
Mariana looks at me, eyes sparkling, and says loud enough for everyone to hear, “Smile like you’re in love!”
And that’s the moment Mateo reaches for me. His arm slides around my waist like it’s something he does every day, and then he pulls me flush against him, Maya still in his other arm.
My breath catches. I don’t even have time to reach before the camera clicks. Once. Twice. Rapid fire.
I manage a smile, but my heart’s racing.
He leans in, close to my ear, voice low and teasing, “You’re smiling.”
“I’m being held hostage.”
“You feel pretty relaxed for a hostage.”
“I hate it.”
“You love it.”
Maya giggles in his arms and kisses his cheek. “This is the best day ever.”
After a very good, but very long day, Maya is fast asleep in her bed.
She didn’t even make it through her nightly bedtime story.
One second, she was curled under her princess quilt, and the next, her eyes were fluttering closed mid-sentence.
I finished the book anyway—out loud, like I always do—even if she wasn’t awake to hear it.
I’m not sure why. I guess I want to soak in every second of her, this small, as much as I can.
I kiss the top of her head before slipping out of her room, closing the door behind me with that soft, careful quiet only moms can master. Everyone knows that trying to keep your child asleep, and in their own bed, is like gently placing down a bomb so that it won’t activate.
The house feels still. Peaceful.
I head into the kitchen, tug my hair into a loose bun, and lean against the counter with a glass of water, letting the silence stretch around me.
The scent of fall still lingers faintly on my clothes—pumpkin, cinnamon, the worn cotton of flannel.
A reminder of how good today was. Of how good it felt.
Of how good it was to see Mateo with Maya.
To see how good he is with me. The feel of his arm around my waist. Why did it feel like it belonged there?
Why did I feel like he belonged next to me?
I shouldn’t let myself sit in that feeling for too long. I shouldn’t ponder a what-if that I know can never ever. Should never happen.
My phone buzzes on the counter. I blink down at the screen. Nico. Of course. Because he seems to have some sort of radar that goes off in his head whenever I’m happy. A radar telling him that he needs to disrupt my life, disrupt my peace.
I hesitate for a second before unlocking it.
Nico
I hope you’re having a nice night.
Analyse
What do you want, Nico?
Nico
I just want to remind you of what I said when I came back. I want you to know that I meant it. I want to fix things. I miss you, Lyse. I miss you so bad.
A second buzz. Another message.
Nico
I know I messed up. Shit. I fucked up big time. But I want to be with you. I know that now. I know I should have never left you. Just give me a chance to prove I’ve changed.
I stare at the messages, jaw tight.
He never asks about Maya. Never asks what she likes, how her day was, what her favorite color is this week.
He doesn’t know about her obsession with french fries with eggs or how she still sleeps with the same stuffed frog she’s had since she was one.
He doesn’t know how hard she cried when she accidentally stepped on an ant in our backyard, singing sana sana colita de ran to it in hopes that the magical song of healing would resurrect it.
He doesn’t know a damn thing. He spent one day with her since he’s been back. He saw her for fifteen minutes after the Fall Festival’s pie-eating contest. Then he went ghost. Again.
He isn’t here for her. He’s here for me. He wants me. He thinks I’m a prize for him to win, but he doesn’t realize that she is everything. She’s the goddamn prize. She’s gold. She’s sunshine. She’s joy, happiness, and love.
But he doesn’t care. It’s a game to him. Win Analyse back. He has no idea who I even am. He just wants the version of me that stood in the doorway crying when he left.
What he doesn’t know is that woman? The one who begged? The one whose heart tore in two with each receding step of his… She doesn’t live here anymore. She’s dead and gone. Stronger and better than ever.
I lock my phone and set it down face-down on the counter, letting the silence reclaim the space. In the other room, the clock ticks softly. Upstairs, Maya sleeps without worry.
And me? I’m done begging.