48. Mariana
Mariana
T he midday sun streams through the blinds, painting soft lines of light across Sebastian’s kitchen. The scent of coffee lingers, mixing with the fresh crispness of laundry and the faint trace of his body wash—the one that somehow always smells impossibly good.
It’s been a couple of weeks now, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe. Like I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Things between us have been… easy. Natural. The way they used to be, but somehow different, too—stronger, more certain. I don’t feel like I’m walking on a tightrope anymore, bracing for the fall.
Instead, I feel grounded. Safe. Home.
Maybe that’s because I’ve finally started letting myself believe that I deserve this. That I don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.
Therapy has helped.
It’s strange, talking to someone who isn’t family, isn’t a friend—someone who doesn’t already know all the ways I’ve built my walls. But it’s also… freeing.
I don’t have to soften the truth for a stranger. I don’t have to pretend I have it all figured out. I can just say things out loud, things I’ve buried for so long, and let them exist without the weight of guilt pressing on my chest.
I cradle my coffee mug in both hands, my fingers curled around the warmth, letting it seep into my skin. Across from me, Maya swings her legs from her seat, a piece of toast in one hand, her curls bouncing with every excited movement.
Sebastian leans against the counter, scrolling through his phone, still in his worn athletic shorts and a loose T-shirt, his hair tousled from sleep. He’s completely at ease, unhurried, like there’s nowhere else he needs to be.
Something in me loosens at the sight, a quiet warmth unfurling in my chest.
Therapy hasn’t erased the past. It hasn’t magically made the grief or the scars disappear. But it’s given me something I didn’t even realize I needed—a way to move forward.
"Tío Sebaaaaa," Maya drawls dramatically, dragging out his name like it’s a royal decree.
"Hmm?" Sebastian barely looks up from his phone, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips, like he already knows where this is going.
"You promised we’d go on an adventure today," she reminds him, her tiny hand smacking the table for emphasis.
Sebastian sighs, finally setting his phone down. "Did I?"
"Yes!" she insists, eyes wide with determination. "And you can’t break a pinky promise. Ever."
I bite back a smile at the absolute seriousness in her little voice. Across the table, Sebastian makes a show of scratching his chin, feigning deep thought.
"Hmm. Are you sure I promised?"
Maya gasps, outraged, her tiny brows furrowing. "TíO SEBASTIAN," she scolds, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You said we were gonna do something fun today, and that means we have to do it."
Sebastian winces dramatically. "Ah, well, if the pinky promise is involved…"
I shake my head, unable to hold back my grin. "Well, it just so happens that I was also thinking an adventure sounded fun today."
Maya gasps again, eyes darting between us. "Really?"
I nod. "Really."
Sebastian leans down, resting his elbows on the table so he’s at eye level with his niece. "Alright, bebecita. What kind of adventure are we talking about?"
Maya taps her chin, thinking hard, her little face scrunched up in concentration. "Something big," she decides. "And fun."
Sebastian tilts his head. "How big? How fun? Like, going to the park fun? Or like, jumping out of an airplane fun?"
Maya’s jaw drops in horror. "Nooo, tio, that's too scary! Mommy would be so mad at you."
I snort into my coffee. "Lyse would murder you."
Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. No skydiving. How about the lake?"
Maya’s entire face lights up, excitement bursting through her tiny frame. "YES! Can we bring snacks? And my floaties? And can we catch real fish?"
Sebastian reaches over and ruffles her curls. "We can bring snacks, definitely bring floaties, and—" he shoots me a look "—maybe we leave the fish alone, huh?"
I nod solemnly. "Sounds fair."
Maya beams, bouncing in her chair. “That. Sounds. AWESOME!”
Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. "You’re so easy to impress."
Maya shrugs. "You’re just that cool, tio."
I laugh as Maya takes another triumphant bite of her toast, already planning out the details of our little trip. She’s talking a mile a minute—listing the exact snacks we need to bring, debating whether or not she should wear both of her floaties or just one, because she’s a big kid now, after all.
Sebastian just listens, nodding along with the occasional uh-huh and good idea, but every now and then, I catch him sneaking glances at me—taking this in, holding onto it, fully present in the moment, just as much as I am.
Sebastian meets my gaze from across the table, something soft, something sure in his expression. Like maybe this, these mornings, this quiet kind of happiness, is what he’s wanted all along.
I set my mug down, exhaling slowly.
"You know," I say, voice quieter now, more thoughtful, "my therapist asked me something the other day."
Sebastian raises a brow, intrigued. "Yeah?"
I nod. "She asked me if I believed I deserved to be happy."
Sebastian’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "And what did you say?"
I glance down at my coffee, tracing the rim with my finger. "For a long time, I didn’t. I think I got used to expecting the worst. To bracing for impact. But… I don’t want to live like that anymore."
Sebastian leans forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. "And now?"
I lift my eyes to his, my chest tightening. "Now, I think I’m starting to believe it."
His lips part like he wants to say something, but instead, he just reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. He doesn’t have to say anything. I feel it.
For once, I’m not caught up in the what-ifs or the ticking clock of what happens next. I’m just here, with him, with Maya—and damn , it feels good.