50. Santiago
SANTIAGO
“Here, take my hand,” Ari said, arm outstretched.
Pressing my lips together, I ignored his help and instead used my force to pull myself up. He chuckled, standing behind me as I walked over to the other side of the flat roof.
“Don’t tell me you’re still embarrassed.”
Keeping my back to him, I sat down with my legs sticking over the edge of the roof. “N-no.”
He sat beside me, his shoulder touching mine. “So you got a little emotional, so what?”
“It’s fucking lame,” I bit back, thinking of my pathetic reaction to losing him in that damn mirror maze.
“I found it rather cute, you, crying like a little boy.”
My eyes shot to his. “I-I didn’t cry.”
“Really? So what were those mysterious drops of water in your eyes?”
“Fuck.” I slumped on my back, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so fucking lame.”
I heard him shift beside me, so I peeked between my fingers to see him leaning back on his arms.
After deciding we’d both had enough of the fair, we snuck up to sit on the rooftop of what used to be an ice cream shop, now abandoned, that faced the ocean.
That way, we finally had a break from all the people but also wouldn’t miss the fireworks show.
After all, what was a first date without some sparks?
“I always found the ocean to be the epitome of freedom, don’t you think?”
I sat up and stared ahead at the waves crashing over the dark water, the moonlight reflecting on it.
“Don’t know. Never given much thought to it.”
“Jumping headfirst into crystal clear water and swimming away… it sounds like a dream.”
“A dream?” I glanced at him. “I don’t know about that. But I guess swimming is kinda nice.”
Still looking at the water, he snorted.
“What's so funny?” I frowned.
“Nothing, it’s just that… I never swam in the ocean.”
My brows pulled inward, and I huffed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all.”
“It’s Miami Beach, for fuck’s sake. You mean to tell me you’ve never been to the beach?”
“That’s not what I said.”
I grunted. “Fine, so you’ve been to the beach but never gotten into the water? Not even dipping your toes?”
He shook his head, and confused, I scratched my jaw.
“Why? You think the water’s dirty or somethin’?”
“You’d think that, huh?” He smiled at me. “But no. Not at all. The thing is… I don’t know how to swim.”
Shocked, I stared at him for a long minute. And still half-certain he was bullshitting me, I gave him a skeptical brow until he chuckled.
“I’m being honest for a change. I really can’t swim.”
“How’s that even possible?”
He shrugged. “Never had anyone to teach me.”
“In that case––” I leaned closer to him. “––I’ll teach you.”
“Yeah?” He gave me one raised brow while maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck, yeah. I mean, I taught my li’l bro how to swim, so you could say I’m a pro.”
“Are you now?”
I puffed my chest. “Yep. I’m a man of many talents.”
“You sure are.”
That made me blush, and yet, despite feeling my cheeks turning red, I didn’t look away, and neither did he. Instead, he continued to look at me with that soft expression that melted my heart.
“I meant what I said earlier, by the way. About you having nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I scoffed. “Funny how you say that after giving me hell for the last half hour, asshole.”
I thought he’d tease me some more in return, about how I teared up in that maze, but he didn’t seem amused; if anything, I’d say he was too damn serious for his own good.
“I mean it, Santiago. The fact that you’d care over something like that… You’re a good man.”
Sensing the shift in the mood, I got closer to him. “I’m really not.”
He looked down, and in that moment, all I wanted was to snatch that stupid baseball cap off his head.
“But you are. You might do bad things from time to time, but you have a good heart.”
I nudged his shoulder with mine. “You do, too.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Of course you do.” I tsked. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Turning to look at me, something flickered in his eyes before he smiled. Although calling that heartbreaking expression on his face a smile would be a hard stretch. In a desperate attempt to make him feel better, I stole his hat.
“Hey—”
“Let me borrow it for a little.” I tried it on.
He huffed, muttering something under his breath about me acting like a child. Not about to lose this rare moment, I scooched slightly closer.
“What you said made me think of my dad,” I started saying.
Seeing that I had his full attention, I went on.
“He always told me that I had a corazón de luchador. A fighter’s heart.
As a kid, I just thought it sounded cool, but growing up, I learned it was his way of teaching me integrity.
I mean, like any other fighting sport, boxing is based on violence, and so it’s important to have a clear set of morals.
” Pausing for a second, I remembered the days before I was sent to prison, and the type of guy I was back then.
“I used to box ’cause I really loved punching people, you know?
” I stared at him, captivated by his gorgeous eyes.
“It was why I never made it, ’cause all I cared for was the blood.
When all you’re focused on is the violence and the rush, you miss the point, yeah?
But then, something changed. I met you.”
His brows drew inward, a deep line forming between them. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” I took off the hat and looked at it. “The psychotic, white-haired bitch who blackmailed me into fighting for him.”
Then, on impulse, I tossed the hat away and watched it fall off the rooftop.
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“You’re prettier without it.”
He scowled. “You’re a child. And as moving as your confession is, I’m struggling to follow—”
“Hear me out, okay?”
Pressing his lips together, he nodded.
“You see, ever since I got in the ring for you, I stopped doing it for the blood. I know, it should be the other way around, but you saw me, and it had been a long fucking time since anyone did.” My stomach coiled remembering those times I waited for Dad to show up to my fights, but one glance at Ari made it all go away.
“You said you were a big fan of second chances, and fighting for you was exactly that. A second chance. That was why, whenever I got into the cage, I did it with a whole heart.” I thought of yesterday’s mess, about Gabriel and that girl, but truly, it all came down to him.
“That’s why I got so angry yesterday. Because when you look me in the eyes and lie to me so easily…
it scares me. It scares me that this was all just an illusion. ”
And there was my answer. No, I wasn’t angry, just scared. Terrified of him, of what he meant to me.
“That girl… I didn’t kill her,” he confessed, his words spoken as a prayer said in the dead of night.
“Ari—”
He sighed. “I didn’t kill her, but I killed others.”
It was then that the first firework was shot, exploding like thunder through the sky before another one burst, painting the night in bright colors, followed by a few more.
But I didn’t bother looking up, and I kept staring at him the whole time, waiting for the noises to die out so there would be a place for words.
“I don’t care that you’re a killer.”
“But you should,” he cut in, finally looking me in the eyes. “You should because a lot of those people I killed—” He sighed. “A lot of them didn’t deserve to die.”
I leaned closer to him in fear that the fireworks would swallow my next words.
“You did what you needed to do to survive.”
“That’s just an excuse.”
“Who gives a shit?” I hissed, feeling angry. “I used to beat people up and rob them of their money.”
“Oh, please.” He tilted his head back with a fake laugh. “The things that I have done… Mr. Rivas, you don’t even know the beginning of it.”
“Santiago,” I said, placing my hand on top of his.
His eyes darted to our joined hands, then to me.
Moving, I held my other hand against his cheek. “Whatever secrets you have, I’m not scared of them.” I brushed my fingers over his scar, trying to be as gentle as I could. “And before you jump and say anything, I’m not a fool trying to sugarcoat reality. I’m looking at you with my eyes wide open.”
“But you don’t. You see what you want to see.”
“No.” My stare hardened. “I’m seeing you, Ari, and as broken as you are, that’s okay. I’m the same—”
“That’s your mistake.” Pain crossed his face before he pulled away from me, once again retreating into himself. “I’m not broken. I’m empty.”
His words cut deep, because what the hell did that even mean? And yet—
“Whatever you are, I’m fine with it.”
It didn’t escape me that he just shook his head and scoffed, as if laughing at my naivety. But the thing was, he underestimated himself. In the year we spent together, there were moments that proved how wrong he was, now being one of them.
“Were you close with your parents?” he asked, out of nowhere, changing the subject.
“It’s complicated.”
He gave me a half smile. “Try me.”
Returning his smile, I then stared ahead at the ocean.
“We used to be a close family until my mom got sick and died within a year.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Now, with the fireworks all over, it was the sounds of the waves coming from afar that followed his words.