12. PEDRO
12
PEDRO
T he morning light filters in slow, like it’s got nowhere else to be—soft, careful, like it knows we could use the peace after last night. Waking up with Aria beside me feels different. There’s something surreal about it, like the past sneaking back in, but with all the edges smoothed out. Last night wasn’t just us diving back into something familiar—it was uncharted territory, something between remembering what we had and realizing what could still be.
I lay there for a second longer, letting the warmth of the room, the comfort of her being there, sink in. I watch the light trace over her face, catching the small details I hadn’t forgotten, but maybe didn’t remember as clearly. It’s quiet, the kind of quiet I’ve been missing—nothing but the steady rhythm of her breathing. Between the grind and all the noise, it’s a calm I don’t get much of these days.
She stirs a little, then opens her eyes. That sleepy, half-lidded look on her face is like a scene out of some indie film—unpolished, but real. “Morning,” she says, her voice all low and soft, like she’s still in between sleep and awake.
“Morning, beautiful,” I say back, a grin tugging at my mouth. Her voice still hits me the same way it used to—warm, familiar, and stirring something up in me I’m not ready to face yet. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” she stretches like a cat, her movements slow, effortless in the way she just fits into the space. “Your bed’s too comfortable, though. It’s a trap.”
“Only if you want it to be,” I tease, shooting her a look. “You making a complaint or a suggestion?”
She smirks, pulling herself closer, and the brush of her skin on mine is enough to keep me here, no matter what the day has in store. “Just stating facts.”
The laugh that comes out of me is real, deeper than the usual. “Well, let’s make it a habit, then.”
We lay there, quiet for a minute, just soaking up the moment. I don’t get many mornings like this, and I sure as hell don’t want to waste it. But, of course, reality doesn’t take long to start creeping in. “What’s the time?” she asks, a little wrinkle forming between her brows.
“Just past nine,” I say, glancing at the clock. “You got plans?”
She stretches again, fingers combing through her hair. “Not really. But we should probably pretend to be adults for a minute. Coffee?”
“The nectar of the gods,” I nod, grinning. “I’m on it.”
“You’re my hero,” she teases, her voice playful, but there’s a hint of something behind it.
“Always,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead before sliding out of bed. “Coffee coming up.”
As I head to the kitchen, I feel the easy rhythm between us that we used to have—the back and forth, the teasing. It’s like no time has passed, but everything’s different at the same time. I get the coffee going, the rich scent filling the apartment, and for a second, I allow myself to think that maybe—just maybe—this time could be different.
The coffee brews, and the soft sound of it is like a calm in the middle of the storm that is my life right now. I don’t know what’s ahead, but for the first time in a while, I feel like I might be able to face it. When Aria walks into the kitchen, drawn by the promise of caffeine, I look at her, and everything feels... easier. Simpler.
But then the weight of what I need to say hits me. No matter how good this feels, there’s no ignoring the complications that are waiting just around the corner.
I slide a mug toward her, my fingers brushing hers, sparking something I can’t quite name. “Aria,” I start, the words catching in my throat. “There’s something you should know. About me and my ex—it’s...complicated.”
She pauses mid-sip, her eyes searching mine. “ Complicated how?” she asks, setting down her mug, her attention now fully on me.
I exhale, trying to gather my thoughts. This isn’t the easiest thing to bring up, especially not when we’ve just found some kind of peace. “There’s...legal stuff. From when we broke up. Cease and desist letters, NDAs—the whole nine yards. She’s not exactly taking the split well.”
Aria’s face softens with concern. “That sounds... intense . Are you doing okay with all that?”
I give a short laugh, more bitter than I mean to, the weight of it pressing on me more than I realized. “I’m managing. But she’s pushing for mediation. Wants it to happen next week. I won’t lie. It’s been…messy.”
The room feels smaller all of a sudden, the tension cutting into the peace we woke up with just moments ago. I didn’t want this to be our reality, didn’t want to bring Jessica’s mess into what felt like a clean start. But here it is.
Aria doesn’t look away as I lay out all the details about the C&D and the NDA. She doesn’t even blink when I tell her how I’m not supposed to be seen in public with another woman until ninety days after the breakup or after Jessica publicly announces our split, whichever comes first. Aria’s gaze stays steady, wrapping me in some kind of quiet reassurance.
“We can keep things low-key,” she says, her voice calm, like she’s already thought this through. “No public outings, no social media. Just us, figuring things out under the radar. I can handle it if you can. ”
Her words hit me with more relief than I expected. She’s not running, not pulling away. She’s right here, offering a solution like she always does, and it’s more than I thought I deserved. “Yeah, definitely. We’ll keep it between us. And after ninety days...”
She grins, a spark of mischief lighting up her gorgeous face. “After ninety days, we come out? Maybe a relationship reveal party where everyone dresses up in rainbow track suits.”
I laugh at the visual image in my head. But the way she delivers the suggestion, like we’re a team, like we’re in this together…it makes the whole idea of going public with a relationship—something I’ve never been comfortable with in the past—seem easy.
I can’t help but match her energy. “Sounds like a plan. You and me, against the world.”
“Unstoppable,” she echoes, the smile lingering on her lips as she takes a sip of coffee. And just like that, the heaviness I was carrying feels more manageable, something we can actually get through.
As we chat about our lives over bowls of cereal then clear the breakfast dishes, the morning starts to feel like it’s ours again. The kitchen, now filled with the soft clinks of plates and the residual scent of coffee and cereal milk, feels like the beginning of something. A fresh start.
But, of course, it never stays simple for long. My phone buzzes on the counter, breaking the moment, and I glance at the screen. Tío Juan’s name pops up, followed by a message.
Heading back with Gretchen. She’s dying to see the swag from the convention. See you soon!
I stifle a groan as I imagine the scandalous souvenirs from his Adult Con adventures scattered across my living room floor.
Aria peeks over my shoulder at the text, and I can practically feel the gears turning in her head before she suddenly perks up, snapping back to life like she’s just remembered something crucial. “Oh shoot,” she blurts, “I’ve got this...thing. A work thing.”
I raise an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look. “A work thing? On a Saturday?”
She nods, but her cheeks betray her, turning a shade darker. “Yeah, big client. You know how it is.”
I’m tempted to press her for more, but the way her eyes dart around tells me maybe this isn’t the best time to poke at whatever she’s not saying. Instead, I keep it casual. “Alright, you can fill me in later.”
She seems relieved at my laid-back approach, quickly nodding as she gathers her stuff. “Definitely. I’ll give you the play-by-play on all the thrilling client action.”
The vibe shifts slightly as she rushes around grabbing the clothes we threw everywhere on the way to my bedroom last night. I stand there, watching her scramble around the apartment like she’s trying to beat the clock, and I can’t help but feel like there’s more going on. But before I can say anything, we’re both standing at the door as she throws me a quick smile.
“I'm sorry for running out like this,” she says, clearly out of breath. “I wish I could stay, but...”
I wave off her apology as I open the door. “No worries. Duty calls, right? Now go, before I change my mind and handcuff you to the bed.”
She grins, leaning in for a quick kiss, and it’s over before I can even register it. “I’ll text you later,” she says, and then she’s gone, disappearing down the hallway with one last wave.
Not a minute later, Tío Juan and Gretchen make their entrance, bursting in like they’re starring in their own reality show. Tío Juan’s got a wide grin on his face as he introduces Gretchen with all the enthusiasm of a game show host.
“Gretchen, meet Pedro, the genius behind Aira Labs!”
His vibe is infectious, even if it puts me on the spot. Gretchen, on the other hand, gives me a cool nod, her eyes sweeping over the room like she’s taking in every detail for later analysis.
“What’s with the long face?” Tío Juan asks, nudging me. “I thought you had company.”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “She had a work emergency,” I say, but Aria’s excuse sounds even flimsier when it comes out of my mouth .
But Juan, being Juan, doesn’t miss a beat. “Ah, modern women, always on the go,” he shifts gears, dropping bits about me and Aria to Gretchen like he’s hosting his own gossip segment on Juan Uncut , “Pedro’s girl, Aria, just stepped out. They've got quite the history, those two. Back together after all these years, just like a telenovela, but with more business deals.”
The heat crawls up my neck, and I want to interrupt, but Juan’s on a roll. Gretchen, for her part, looks mildly amused, like she’s heard this all before.
“Wait up,” Gretchen interjects, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Aria and Pedro have a history? Like, a romantic history?”
I freeze, mind scrambling for the right words. No way I can spill too much, not with the NDA hanging over me like a guillotine. “It’s not really—” I start, my voice faltering as I search for a way to deflect without flat-out lying.
But Juan, always the loose cannon, jumps in before I can stop him, eyes gleaming like he’s just been handed the latest gossip. “Oh, yeah, they go way back!” He grins, leaning forward. “Google sweethearts turned into Android tragedies—break up to make up. You know how it is.”
I shoot him a warning look, my heart hammering in my chest. If he keeps talking, he could make things messy, especially with Gretchen seemingly digging for details. I force a smile, trying to smooth things over. “It’s complicated. ”
“Interesting,” Gretchen says, her eyes flicking between us, her face a perfect mask of indifference. But I don’t miss the calculating look behind her curiosity. “I didn’t know that.”
There’s tension hanging in the air, the weight of past and present colliding in a way that feels a little too close for comfort. I’m about to change the subject when Juan launches into a vivid story about his latest Adult Con adventures that I’m pretty sure no one asked for.
And as he rambles on, my mind drifts back to Aria, to the way she kissed me before running out the door. There’s something between us—something real—but I can’t help but feel like we’re on borrowed time.
Whatever happens next, I just hope we’re ready for it.