CHAPTER 23
Miguel
His heart hammered. Pounding beneath his ribcage, Miguel pressed a hand over his chest and fought the fog stealing his vision.
“How could you?” he choked out as a stop sign materialized at the end of the road. Slamming his foot against the brake, he smacked the steering wheel and averted the stare of a young man seated at the bus stop to his right. “Damn it!” he roared and rammed his foot against the gas pedal. Heat blazed through his body, coating his flesh in a layer of sweat as the bus stop disappeared in his rear-view mirror.
“Why?” he blurted with another angry smack against the wheel. The hurt in his heart flared, exploding with the eerie intensity of an unexpected, sudden grease fire. Miguel shook his head as the image burned a hole in his brain.
Was that?
“Ian?” he questioned as the tires hit the highway. “My God, I fucking trusted you, Rachel.” Wallowing in the sadness spewing from his soul, a tear burst through the dam and trickled down his cheek. He swiped at it and shivered. “I believed you,” he added in a whisper.
Miguel weaved in and out of traffic for miles, passing exit after exit in a blur until the ache in his heart allowed for the first deep breath of air to fill his lungs. Breathing through the pain, he zeroed in on the word Rosewood etched into an elegant wooden sign beside mile marker seventy-two.
Like a magnet drawn to its other half by the forces of nature, his hands unconsciously guided the wheel until his tires slowed on the off-ramp. “Rosewood,” Miguel spoke aloud and turned the car left onto Montgomery Street.
I need you, boss.
The memory replayed in his mind like a track on repeat. Endlessly flitting through his brain, Ian’s lips met Rachel’s again and again and again until the vision blurred. “You picked me though,” he whined. “You told me you were over him.” But no matter the words, confusion wracked his soul, pawing and poking at his heart until the familiar Victorian mansion appeared at the end of the line of ancient weeping willows.
Miguel killed the engine and eyed the front porch. He shuddered as a chill gripped him, the echo of lost love fleeting with the memory of—
“Miguel?” Lauren tapped the window and grinned. “What’re you doing here?” Her voice muffled through the glass.
The smile lighting her face stole his breath. Swiping at the evidence of tears staining his warm cheeks, he pushed the door open and groaned as his feet touched the pavement. “I’m sorry—”
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Her smile disappeared. Rolling the baby stroller away from the car, she snuck a quick peek at her sleeping daughter before turning back. “What happened?”
Guilt pummeled him at the sight of the baby.
What the hell am I thinking?
“I shouldn’t have come here.” Stupidity crashed through his veins as he twisted his body back inside the vehicle. “I’m such an idiot,” he added before she caught the door.
“Stop!” She tugged it wide open and gripped his shoulder. “Please, don’t go.”
“Lauren.” Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cool steering wheel.
I just made this ten times worse by coming over here.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded. “Is it Izzy? Maria? Pier Ninety-Two?”
He shook his head and released a heavy sigh.
“Er, okay.” She frowned but held his arm tighter. “Then, what—”
“It’s Rachel,” he blurted as the truth flowed like an active volcano. “I just walked in on her kissing her ex-boyfriend.”
The words stung, defeating the glimmer of hope still smoldering in his heart. Squashing the sentiment entirely, he pressed his face into his palms.
“Oh, Miguel,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He snorted and returned his feet to the driveway. “Yeah, me too,” he muttered and forced his body out of the car.
Me too...
“This, ah, just happened?”
Her beautiful brown eyes bore into him, the soft, sad glow holding him captive as he gently pressed the door closed and leaned against it.
Miguel nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” He lifted his arms and gripped the back of his neck as a breeze cooled his damp skin.
“Oh.”
“I don’t know why I came over here.” He moved his palms to his cheeks and forced the urge to vomit away. “I swear, the car drove itself,” he admitted through the cracks in his fingers.
“Well, we’ve been friends for a long time.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle. Resting her cheek against his chest, she leaned into him. “You can always come to me. For anything.”
The familiar floral fragrance emitting from her hair touched his nose, the aroma a haunting tease. Miguel closed his eyes and settled into her gentle embrace, leaning into her comfort and friendship.
“Mitch—”
“Isn’t here.” She tightened her grip before pulling away. “He’s helping Ryan on a job site today.” With a grip on his hand, she gestured toward the house. “Please, come inside so we can talk.”
Her kind offer plagued him. Coupled with the immediate relief of her husband’s absence, Miguel closed his eyes. Shooting stars erupted in the darkness, his options looking back in black and white as the conflict of a lifetime wracked his system. His brain urged him to sink back into the car and drive home, chalking up the last thirty minutes to pure insanity. But his heart won him over with Lauren’s gentle squeeze on his palm.
“That’s it,” she cooed and gripped the baby stroller one-handed. “Come on.”
With each footfall, his conscience spoke.
Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.
Lauren wheeled Olivia toward the open garage and Miguel shuffled alongside, losing control with each passing step.
“Let me just put her upstairs for a nap.” She scooped up the baby and headed inside.
Miguel shadowed her into the familiar house. The floor squeaked beneath his feet as he made his way into the kitchen, always the room of absolute comfort, no matter what.
Overhead, her footsteps echoed, each creak toying with his psyche. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he whispered. “Dragging Lauren into this will—”
The sudden vibration in his pocket stole his train of thought. Gripping the device as Lauren returned, Miguel eyed the message in the palm of his hand. Hi, handsome. Where are you? I thought we might celebrate my latest sale together this evening. I have my heart set on flan.
Miguel groaned and tossed the phone onto the counter. It skidded across the surface before Lauren caught it and frowned at the message on the screen.
“She doesn’t know you know?”
With a shake of his head, he rested his forearms against the granite surface and closed his eyes.
“Will you tell me what happened?” she whispered and moved around him to examine the wine bottles filling the rack. Lauren selected a dry white from the center and slid the bottle in his direction.
Miguel gripped the handle on the drawer to his left and pulled. Spotting the corkscrew beside a spatula, he sighed as Lauren reached for two glasses in the corner cabinet.
“I’m not really sure what there is to tell.” Miguel rammed the sharp metal end into the cork and twisted. “I’d just left Pier Ninety-Two and was going to pop in at her open house.” He tugged until the cork pulled free. “But I was running late and didn’t get there until it had already ended. There was just one car left in the driveway when I opened the front door.”
Like a cloud of smoke, the memory returned, ready to pierce his heart all over again. “I-I-I,” he stammered and pushed the open bottle toward Lauren. “She was just kissing him. Right there in the kitchen.”
His stomach rolled as the truth spilled like poison.
“Oh, Miguel,” Lauren whispered and poured him a full glass. With a groan, she pushed it across the counter before giving herself half the amount. “Did—”
“No.” He shook his head and gripped the metal rim of a barstool. The legs screeched against the tile before his butt sank onto the cushion. “I just left. I literally had no words. All I could do was walk away.”
She nodded and toyed with the stem of her glass. “And there’s no other possible explanation, right?”
Miguel shook his head and reached for the wine. He gulped until the liquid sloshed over his tongue. Warm and euphoric, it spilled down his throat.
“What other explanation could there be?” He groaned. “You don’t kiss someone unless you have feelings for them, right?”
Lauren shrugged. “Could it have been a kiss goodbye?”
He rolled his eyes and dribbled white wine down his chin. It soaked into his collar and disappeared. “Rach and I have been dating for a while. If she’s still saying goodbye to an ex-boyfriend... man, I’ve been doing something way wrong.”
A weak grin touched her lips. “I’m just looking for a reason why she’d do something like this. I don’t know Rachel well, but from what I do know, this isn’t like her.”
Exactly. So, why’d she do it?
The infamous iPad list returned to his mind’s eye, each bullet point a single gunshot wound to his heart. Miguel’s cheeks flushed as the echoes of Rose’s voice explained the list away, chalking it up to an evening of drunken nonsense.
“But what if it wasn’t?” he muttered.
“Hmm?” Lauren leaned forward and gripped his hand. She squeezed and peered into his eyes. “What did you say?”
His gaze connected with hers. Her stare was both intimate and searching. “I think I’ve been really stupid.” He tugged away from her grasp and ran his fingers through his hair. “So ignorant,” he added with a sigh.
About so many things.
“How so?”
All I’ve wanted is to find someone to love. Someone who wasn’t you. Have I been so blind with that need that I fell for someone still in love with someone else?
His chest ached. The sudden thought jarred his core. “Maybe she never did get over Ian,” Miguel mused.
Lauren tipped her head to the side and leaned in closer. “What makes you say that?”
“I found a list she made.”
“What kind of list?”
A heavy sigh left him. “Rose convinced me it was harmless, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What was it a list of?
“Bullet points.” Miguel gulped down the rest of his wine. Sputtering at the dry liquid, his eyes watered. “Me versus him,” he spit. “There wasn’t anything more than one thing listed on his side, so I brushed it off after talking to Rose.”
Lauren furrowed her brow. “Wait, Rose?” She squinted. “Her sister?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Miguel nodded and accepted the second pour of wine she offered. “I asked her about it, but she told me not to worry. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now...”
His voice trailed away as the stolen moment with Rachel in Maria’s basement echoed. Her words of affirmation spoken in his former bedroom reclaimed space in his brain.
“I’m so confused. Why are you talking to Rachel’s sister?”
Miguel snorted as the memory disappeared. “She’s my head chef.”
“You hired your girlfriend’s sister to lead your kitchen?” She swirled the wine around her glass.
“She’s an amazing cook—”
“And a truthful one, too, I hope.” Lauren shrugged before peeking at the baby monitor on the windowsill. The black and white image of a sleeping baby looked back.
“I trust her.” Miguel closed his eyes and frowned. “But I trusted Rachel, too,” he muttered. “Maybe my judgment is just way off, here.”
Lauren shook her head. “No. You’re always spot on. With everything.”
Except you.
“It doesn’t feel that way right now.” The wine blurred his mind and eased the shot nerves in his system. Shaking his head back-and-forth, he stared at the latest text lighting up his screen. You must be stuck at the restaurant. No worries, I’ll swing by the grocery store and wait for my kiss in the kitchen. A winking face emoji followed her note.
Miguel spun the phone around for Lauren. Her eyes flitted across the screen. Each word she read deepened her frown.
“Wait for a kiss in the kitchen,” she said.
His heart sank as he nodded. “Every dessert begins with a kiss,” he whispered. The ache returned to his chest, throbbing with persistence and increased force. Rachel’s sweet smile was the catalyst for the growing pit in his gut. “What do I do, Lauren?”
She tapped the counter with the tips of her fingernails. “Well, you have to talk to her.”
He scowled.
“If she really does have feelings for Ian, it’s only fair that she admits those to you.” With a swirl of her glass, she sipped the wine and coughed. “Trust me. Speaking from experience here.” She raised her hand in jest, but her face fell. “Er, Mitch...”
Her voice trailed away as Olivia stirred and whined. The monitor flashed red, and Lauren reached for the little white box on the sill. “It’s hardly been an hour,” she muttered.
“Do you need to—”
She shook her head. “No, we’re trying the self-soothe approach.” Her eyes closed as the baby shrieked and rolled again. “I’m told it’s harder on me than it is for her.”
Miguel nodded and reached for the monitor. He turned the volume down and propped the device on the counter facing him. “When Izzy was Liv’s age, she screamed like a banshee every time she woke up.”
Lauren offered a weak smile and leaned against the counter. “But she learned to self-soothe?”
“Most kids do.” He grinned and spun the monitor back around. Silent and sleeping once more, Olivia’s tiny body filled the black and white screen. “You’re doing a great job, boss,” he whispered. “I hope you know that.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. Swiping beneath her puffy, red eyes, Lauren sniffled. “Thank you,” she choked out.
“You’re a great mom. I always knew you would be.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I think it’s supposed to be me making you feel better here.”
Miguel snorted but shrugged. “You already have.”
“How?” Lauren giggled and dragged a hand over her damp cheeks.
“By being you.” The ache in his chest lessened as a deep breath exited his lungs. Miguel reached across the counter and gripped her fingers. With a squeeze, he smiled. “Thank you for listening to me. I’m sorry I barged in here like this.”
“Don’t be. I miss you, Miguel Rodriguez.”
“I miss you, too.”
The grandfather clock at the end of the hallway boomed and announced the hour with four loud chimes. The noise echoed throughout the house, squashing the silence until the echoes faded.
“You should text her back.” Lauren gestured to the phone and tugged her hands away. “Give her the opportunity to explain what happened. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.”
“Are you speaking from experience again?”
Lauren nodded.
Oh.
His gaze fell. From gold speck to gold speck, Miguel’s eyes flitted across the dark granite countertop. The zigzag of swirls and sparkles stole his attention for a fleeting moment.
“Miguel, did I ever tell you...” She sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I once walked in on Mitch and Tess?”
He gasped. A roar pounded in his ears as his blood chilled to his bones. Shaking his head, he pressed his eyes closed before snapping them open in disbelief. “What?”
She nodded. “I know how it feels. I know how you feel right now.”
“I don’t understand. How? When?” He blanched. “Did you say Tess?”
Lauren gulped the remaining wine in her glass. “Yep. Tess Browning.”
“Ryan’s Tess?”
“The very same.” With a nod, she split the remaining white wine between their two glasses. “Mitch and I were in a really bad place.”
“That’s not a very good excuse.”
She hung her head. “No, it’s not. But it’s something we worked through. Maybe it’s something you and Rachel can work through, too.”
“Kissing someone else when you’re in a committed relationship?”
She cringed.
Was it more than just a kiss?
“I’m just saying that sometimes relationships are not as black and white as they seem. I know why Mitch and Tess found each other. I may not like it, but I learned from it. We learned from it, and our relationship is better today because of it.”
Her shrouded advice was no clearer than a murky tide washing seaweed to shore. From across the counter, Miguel eyed her, consumed by the truth she shared.
Lauren’s sweet smile squeezed his heart, an endless source of comfort and connection. But as Olivia’s cries squealed through the monitor again, she backed away and blew a kiss.
“Talk to her, Miguel. It’s the only way to fix it.” She disappeared, but her advice hung in the air.
I ran straight to you, Lauren, but I should have confronted Rachel.
He shuddered as the realization sank in.
I should have gone to you, Sunshine. And not jumped to so many conclusions...
Gripping the keys in his pocket, he dashed out the door.