30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
A Life That is Mine
RAFA
Rafa’s glare remained fixed on Harmon as he squeezed Sal’s hand.
“I love you. I’ll speak with you later,” he assured her, his eyes still facing forward.
Sal walked away without saying another word, and as soon as she was out of sight, he paced toward Harmon.
He clenched his jaw and glowered at him.
Harmon stood his ground and didn’t cower. Good, because neither would he.
“I just wanted to talk to Sal about—” Harmon started.
“Stay away from my fiancée. If you have something to say, say it to me,” Rafa interrupted, nearly losing his patience, but he smoothed the spikes of anger as much as he could.
Harmon’s expression hardened. “Very well…” he said. “So I’ll tell you instead. The grimoire you brought has no provenance documents. It’s appraised, yes. But without those documents, Sal will look unprofessional if she sells it.”
“Whether we sell is Sal’s prerogative. She understands the risk,” Rafa retorted as calmly as possible. “I’m not an art curator. But I am an entrepreneur, and I know that this will get people curious enough to come,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Your concern is unwarranted.”
“Other people aren’t allowed to care for your fiancée?” Harmon responded in a biting tone.
“No, just not you,” Rafa snapped.
Harmon scoffed and offered a taunting grin. “It’s funny that you’re the one marrying her, but you don’t care about her career.”
Rafa shook his head, controlling his frustration. “You placed her in this situation, and I stepped up to help her. Now you’re saying I’m ruining her career?”
“She put herself in this situation. Unfortunately,” Harmon corrected him. “But you? You brought an unverified artifact here, knowing full well she will use it even at the cost of her credibility.”
“You doubt her because she is a storm you seek to control.”
“She is the storm I respect,” Harmon argued.
“Sal and I are cut from the same cloth. We both know what it’s like to toil for the love of people who do not want us.
To be rejected, to seek retribution in the form of achievement.
You couldn’t understand her even if you wanted to.
But you and your siblings are impressive, really.
Asian American head-turners and heartthrobs of rumored Castilian royalty and with mixed Chinese business smarts.
” He scoffed. “Everything was given to you on a silver platter. Love never withheld opportunities at the ready,” Harmon recounted, looking emotionless.
Rafa nodded and grinned. “That’s right. That is the love and security I was raised with, and I will offer her the same thing. And I may not understand her completely, but I will spend the rest of my days trying to.”
Harmon breathed in deeply and paused as though weighing the next thing he was about to say. “She didn’t tell you?” he asked.
“Tell me what?” Rafa asked.
Harmon blinked slowly. “Ask her who she was with the night you came to Cebu.”
Rafa felt like his heart dropped to his gut, and he had trouble keeping a straight face.
Harmon shifted his weight and began walking the other way. “She had a reason for keeping it from you,” he stated, leaving Rafa to deal with the aftermath of his revelation.
Rafa’s feet remained firmly rooted on the pavement as shock waves of fear and doubt ran through him.
Don’t jump to any conclusions, he thought as his mind raced.
After a few deep breaths, he urged himself to turn and walk back to the BnB café.
For all his foresight, he hadn’t expected this relationship curveball.
Rafa was so trusting and so…complacent. Yes, that was the word.
It had never crossed his mind that Sal could betray him.
He shook his head. Don’t jump to any conclusions, he repeated.
He’d have to ask her first, and only then would he be able to think.
Rafa knocked and entered their shared room.
“Hey,” he said, and saw Sal seated on a chair next to the antique desk.
She looked up at him and offered a smile.
He remembered what Harmon had just said.
She had a reason for keeping it from you.
Why would she keep something from him? He looked at Sal and studied her.
Was it true? Was she nervous about him and Harmon speaking?
What was going on in her head? Maybe Harmon was right; maybe he understood her better because they were so similar.
He hated it was so; he felt like he had just entered a battle he was unprepared for—but damn it, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
She was worth all the wins and losses his heart would bear.
Rafa sat on the edge of the four-poster bed and faced her. For a moment, they sat there in silence.
“I’m not sure if Harmon told you anything…but I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
He gave a nod, still feeling deflated. “I heard nothing. But I think you have something on your mind. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Sal looked down, eyes fixed on her lap, and said, “Harmon booked a room and I went up with him in the Dusit Thani. But it was because he had to tell me something in private...”
Rafa closed his eyes, steeling himself, and forced himself not to interrupt her.
“He told me about his life, his pain, and struggle, and I—we were caught up in such a vulnerable moment, and we kissed,” she said, breathless as she finished speaking.
“Did something more happen?” he blurted out and opened his eyes.
“No,” Sal responded, appearing surprised.
Rafa let out a sigh of relief. “Do you have feelings for him?” he asked.
Sal stared at him for a moment with a shade of perplexity in her eyes. “I don’t know. But when I’m with him, I feel seen, curious, and excited,” she said, glancing through her long lashes.
“But don’t you feel seen with me?” he asked, controlling his tone from sounding too confused or hurt.
“With you, it’s different,” she replied, her bangs falling to cover her face when she lowered her head. “With you, I feel warm, safe, and loved.”
“Is that enough for you?”
“It should be.”
He could see her lips tremble slightly, and his heart ached. “But it isn’t?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said in a measured, solemn tone; it was almost as if she was exhausted and ready to release whatever was bothering her.
“I just feel like when you love me, it comes with so many expectations. You’re just…
” her voice trailed off, but she took a deep breath and continued, “Damn it. You’re just so perfect, Rafa.
I know it’s not your fault, but sometimes, I don’t think I match the ideal you have for our relationship. ”
“I’ve never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to.” He wanted to reach for her hand and squeeze it like they always did when they needed reassurance from the other, but something in the way she turned away from him made him hesitate.
“You didn’t have to.” She sniffed. “It was all implied.”
“By whom?”
“By you, by your family—”
“What about my family?” he interjected defensively. “They’ve been nothing but kind to you.”
“I know. Which makes this so much worse. My love, I knew that marrying you would come with expectations. Just meeting your family and seeing your business, and all that rested on your shoulders, I knew what I had to do, and who I had to be if I were to marry you. I know you expect me to move to Medina. I know you were hoping to run your family business with me, and I know you want children. But you never asked me if I wanted those things too, did you? You just assumed I did,” she said as though she had let out a secret she had long kept to herself.
Rafa felt an invisible wall rise between them that he could not penetrate. Sal had said many things he wasn’t expecting to hear, but the one that concerned him the most had to be addressed: “You don’t want children?”
“No,” she said, looking straight into his eyes, “at least not in the next few years.”
He took a deep breath and tried to think of a time when Sal had ever made him feel like she was unsure of having a family of their own.
She never challenged him or disagreed when the topic came up, even though he always discussed his dreams and his hopes for both of them.
He just thoughtlessly assumed she wanted the same thing. “You never told me, Sal…”
“I did. I tried,” she said.
“When?” he asked.
“Many times!” she responded, sounding exasperated.
He could be dense, he knew, but he wasn’t doing it on purpose.
She continued, “Like when one of your godchildren had her first birthday party, and I told you I felt uneasy holding her…or whenever you say you love that baby name for a little girl, and I have no comment or show no interest.”
“Sal…” Rafa started, “you have to tell me these things. I’m not that good at picking up hints.”
“But you’re so good at negotiating and knowing the little things I like…
” she said, her voice soft. “But it’s not the same thing, is it?
I could never tell you straight that I can’t give you what you want, but I just love you so much.
And I knew if I said no to the proposal, that we’d break up.
I didn’t want to be without you.” She bit her lip and looked at him.
“This is all on me. I should have worked up the courage to tell you and not let it reach this point with Harmon.”
Rafa shook his head. “We didn’t communicate what we wanted clearly, so…I’m asking you now, what do you want?” he asked and gripped the mattress, hoping he could accept whatever Sal would answer.
“For now, I just want a life that’s mine. Where I’m not pressured to have kids, where I can focus on my work, and discover myself.”
“So having kids isn’t part of the plan, ever?” he asked nervously.
“For now, maybe not,” Sal replied, looking heartbroken.
He balked for a second, then regained his composure. “I would give up anything if it meant being by your side.” He meant it, but his heart was breaking for what he had hoped for. They were getting older, and he wanted to have a family.
Sal looked crestfallen. “Rafa, I’m sure you don’t mean that.” She shook her head and wiped away a tear. “You deserve someone who also wants what you want.”
Rafa leaned forward, panicked at the thought that she was slipping away. “There is nothing I want more than a life with you.”
Sal squared her shoulders as though strengthening herself.
“Yes, but…living a life knowing that you gave up something huge just to be with me would make me feel guilty, and you would just grow resentful.” She inclined her body toward his.
He took sight of her flushed cheeks, shattered at the reality that she might leave this conversation no longer his.
His heart was aching, but his mind—the mind of a business owner who had gone through high-pressure negotiations—was sound.
Sal made a reasonable argument about their relationship.
So Rafa did what he did best. He negotiated.
“All right,” he stated with eyes lowered, still feeling dejected, “I think we both need time. I’ll help you set up the art show.
But after that, we’ll have to decide together.
Until then, let’s…” he paused before continuing, “let’s take a breather. ”
He wanted to give her the space to think without the pressure of marriage, the pressure of children, and although it pained him to admit it, he would have to withdraw from her as well so she could have some room to breathe.
“Does this mean we are breaking up?” Sal asked, her voice weak and cracking.
“Yes,” he said, unable to meet her eyes.
“Do what you need to figure out what you want,” he said, still dispirited.
He then looked up at her, pulling in whatever sense of self-pride he had left.
“Just please, Sal, if you want to stay with me, don’t stay with me because of guilt, don’t stay with me because you feel sorry for me.
Don’t do that to me. Stay with me—marry me because you want to, fully. The same way I fully choose you.”
Sal nodded and blinked away tears. “So this is it, then?”
Rafa stood, then walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead. “Yes. Come back to me and tell me when you’ve decided.” Every word was painful, but he would endure it for her. He let himself out of her room and left.