Chapter 18 – Mateo #2
“It wasn’t so much what she said, but what she showed me.”
“What did she show you?”
“It was a picture. Of you both. At the gym. Her hands were all over you. You both seemed cozy.”
“A picture? Let me see it.”
She pulls her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it, and shows me the picture. Oh, fuck. There it is. A picture of me and Letty at the gym, and her damn hands are on my bicep. This doesn’t look good.
“That’s not what it looks like. I swear.”
“Look. It’s fine. You and I aren’t even together, not really.
I just don’t want to look stupid. It’s embarrassing.
You’re supposed to be my man, and Letty’s out there telling everyone that’ll listen that you’re with her.
So whatever you’re doing, couldn’t it just have waited until you and I were done with this? ”
I grab her hands between mine. “Slow down. You don’t actually think that I’m sleeping with Letty behind your back? Do you?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Lyse. You know me. You know that I would never hurt you.”
“Right…but I also know that we never talked about being exclusive, and you and I aren’t actually dating.”
“Chula, I need you to listen to me…I am not sleeping with Letty, or anyone else. I would never do that. I care about you, and I will never hurt you. As long as you and I are together, you are mine, and there’s nothing that I will allow to get between us.
I don’t care if this isn’t a real relationship—you are mine. ”
“I’ve been through a lot, Mateo,” she says.
“I get it,” I say, and I mean it. “I should’ve pushed her away,” I admit. “I didn’t invite her there. She just showed up. And I thought ignoring her was the best move. I didn’t want to give her more attention by making a scene. I didn’t think she’d go this far.”
“I hate that she made me doubt you. How did she even get this picture?”
“I think I know…Nico.”
“Nico? What does he have to do with this?”
“He was there, too. At the gym. He came over while Letty and I were working out and started saying all this crap about me having a side-piece. I’d bet every dollar I have that he took that picture of us.”
“Wow. But then how would Letty have gotten it?”
I think about this for a moment. And then it dawns on me…how they spoke to each other as if they knew one another. They seemed comfortable.
“They’re working together.”
“What do you mean they’re working together?”
“He wants you back, right?” I say, and she nods. “And Letty wants me.”
She grimaces.
“So they’re going to be really damn motivated to break us up. You should’ve seen them there, talking to each other like they knew each other. I thought it was odd, but hell, I didn’t realize how fucked up they really were.”
“So you’re telling me that Nico and Letty set this all up? They were both at the gym. Letty got her hands on you so that Nico can take this picture and have her send it to me?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I can see Analyse’s anger begin to boil over. Shit. She’s pissed.
“Those assholes!” she yells. “I can’t believe that they’d stoop so damn low. How fucking dare they? I’m going to call Nico right now!”
She begins to go to his contact in her phone, but I stop her.
“No, don’t call him. Not now. Not while you’re this angry.
Take a beat. I know you, chula. You don’t want to blow everything up.
Deep down, you want him to be in Maya’s life.
Not because you want him in yours, but because you think she needs her dad.
I know that’s something that always hurt you.
Yeah, it might’ve hurt when he left you, but what hurt you the most is that he left her. ”
She sucks in a breath, and looks at me, eyes welling up. Her lips part like she wants to speak, but nothing comes out.
“You didn’t have to tell me,” I say gently. “I’ve paid attention. To every movement, every expression, every word since the day I met you.”
She just stares at me, throat working like she’s trying to swallow down the weight of it. The silence stretches, heavy and loud, until she finally whispers, almost disbelieving, “You see me.”
Her voice is quiet. And yeah, I do. I always have.
She blinks quickly, like she’s trying to push tears back in before they fall.
“Sometimes, I don’t think anyone really does.
Thank you. And you’re right. I just want Maya to have her dad.
I hate that he left, but I sometimes wonder if this is their chance.
Her chance to have everything I’ve always wanted for her. So what? I just say nothing?”
“Yeah. Let’s just say nothing,” I say, my voice low but firm.
“Because they don’t matter. We matter. And we’re okay.
That’s all I care about. That you and I are good.
” I pause, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
“I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t believe me, if they succeeded in tearing us apart.
My heart wouldn’t make it, chula.” I take a breath.
“But I need you to promise me something, yeah?”
She nods, her eyes glassy. “Of course, anything,” she says softly.
“Promise me that if they try again,” I murmur, leaning in just a little, “that if they try to pull one of these stunts again, that you’ll come to me. You won’t shut me out again, please. I can’t take it.”
“I promise, Mateo. I swear it,” she whispers, her voice shaking as she threads her fingers through mine.
She squeezes my hands once more then leans back against the couch, exhaustion finally catching up with her. I can see it in the slump of her shoulders, in the way her eyes flutter even as she tries to keep them on me.
“You should rest, chula,” I say softly. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
She starts to protest, but I brush my thumb gently across her knuckles. “Mari mentioned she was holding some pastries for you. I’ll swing by and grab them so you don’t have to. Consider it handled.”
Her lips part like she wants to argue, but she’s too tired. Instead, she gives me the smallest nod. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “Rest. I’ll be back later.”
The bell over Mari’s bakery door jingles behind me as I step out, a paper bag of quesitos and pastelillos de guayaba in one hand, still warm. I barely make it two steps before a too-sweet voice cuts through the afternoon air.
“Mateo.”
I turn. Letty’s leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed. Her smile’s wide, smug, practiced. “What, no Analyse today? Or is she finally letting you breathe?”
I exhale slowly. I should walk away. Ignore it. But after everything she’s said, everything she’s spread—no. Not this time.
I step closer, bag crinkling in my fist. “You done running your mouth yet, Letty? Or do I need to spell it out for you?”
Her smirk widens, but there’s a flicker of nerves in her eyes. “Spell what out?”
“That you and I were never a thing. Not before. Not now. Not ever.” My voice is low but sharp enough to carry to the people sipping cafecitos at the sidewalk tables. Heads are already turning. Good.
Her smile falters. “Come on, Mateo—”
“No.” I cut her off. “You’ve been telling people Analyse is just a fling.
That we’re ‘reconnecting.’ That I’ve been saying we’re not serious.
Let me make this real clear: there was never a shot for you.
Not then, not now, not ever. And dragging her name into your lies?
That’s the quickest way to make sure I don’t even tolerate you in the same room. ”
I lean in, my voice dropping lower. “Understand this—disrespecting her is an automatic disqualifier. Analyse is mine, and anyone who can’t respect her sure as hell isn’t welcome anywhere near me.”
The bakery door creaks behind me, and Mari’s voice pipes up. “Everything good out here?” She’s holding a rolling pin, flour dusting her apron. Her eyes dart from me to Letty.
“Fine, Mari,” I say, not looking away from Letty. “Just clearing up a misunderstanding.”
Letty shifts her weight, clearly uncomfortable now. I step in closer, lowering my voice. “You hear me, Letty? Even if Analyse and I weren’t together.” I shake my head. “You’re an automatic no. Always was, always will be.”
Her face goes pale. Mari raises a brow like she’s ready to back me up if needed. Letty doesn’t say another word. She just turns on her heel and stalks down the sidewalk.
I finally exhale, glancing back at Mari.
She lifts the rolling pin, smirking. “Guess I didn’t need this after all.”
“Appreciate the backup, though,” I mutter, lips twitching.
She grins. “Anytime.”
I adjust the bag of pastries under my arm and head to my truck, pulse still thudding but lighter. Analyse might not have been here to see it, but word will get back to her. It always does. And this time, I want her to know exactly where I stand.