Chapter Twenty-One
The following week leading up to New Year’s Eve were some of the best days of my life.
They were also filled with the most soul-crushing guilt.
I was lying in bed the morning after Alex arrived, the sheets tangled around my legs and Alex’s arm draped across my waist, when my phone lit up on the nightstand. Pressing the back of my hand to my mouth as I yawned, I picked it up and my lungs seized.
Caitlin: Heeeey! How was your Christmas?
Caitlin: My parents just left. It was nice to see them for the holiday, but I’m so glad they’re gone. And I’m ready to see you!
As carefully as I could, I sat up, tucking the sheet under my arms. Alex rolled away but didn’t awaken, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Staring down at Caitlin’s text, I nibbled on my lip as I debated what to say.
I typed and deleted my words, the knot in my throat becoming more and more uncomfortable as I debated.
Sofia: Christmas was great. Javi and Olivia were here and announced they’re expecting a baby! I’m going to be an aunt!
Blinking bubbles appeared immediately.
Caitlin: omg, congratulations! When are they due?
We exchanged several texts about the baby, the kind of tití I would be, and how everyone around us was settling down when Caitlin abruptly changed the subject.
Caitlin: how did Alex get along with your family? I know he already met your parents but it can be intimidating to meet everyone else all at once, especially on Christmas Eve.
My gaze strayed to Alex, who lay on his stomach, his arm wrapped around a pillow.
His face was soft in sleep, his long, dark lashes fanned against the crests of his cheeks.
Alex was in bed with me, the insides of my thighs sore from having him between them, and his girlfriend was asking me about him. I clenched my eyes closed.
Sofia: The family loved him. My father and Tío Alejandro especially enjoyed telling him about Nochebuena on the island.
Caitlin: Oh good! It’s so important to him to connect with his culture, and I’m so glad you and your family could help him do that.
Shame was a lead weight on my chest. That cultural connection was why Caitlin had encouraged Alex and me to be friends. She had thought I could help him, and I did…before everything between us became so much more than a cultural connection.
Caitlin: Can I still stay with you when I arrive on Wednesday?
Why aren’t you staying with Alex? I considered the words I typed before I slowly deleted them.
Maybe Caitlin preferred not to stay with Alex when Camila and her boyfriend would be there?
I should just ask…but I couldn’t stomach the idea of even thinking about them being together.
The idea of Alex touching her the way he touched me made me want to cry.
And break something. Break something while crying.
Instead, I wrote: Of course. I’ll always have a room for you.
After that conversation, it felt as if an invisible clock implanted itself on my shoulders.
No one else could hear the steady metronome beat, but I could, and each tick on the clock ratcheted up my anxiety.
But I promised myself I would relish the days I had left with Alex, and when Caitlin arrived on New Year’s Day, I would have had my fill of Alex Castillo and be ready to release both him and hopefully the feelings I had for him.
For the next five days, I would allow myself a taste of what a relationship between Alex and me could be. If he chose me over Caitlin.
If we could have forever.
True to the promise I made myself, I soaked up every bit of time I could with Alex, like a cactus in a rain shower.
We walked to Dulce’s for pan dulces and coffee and relaxed on the patio in the bright winter sunshine.
Alex read several of my video scripts, offering suggestions, before he watched me film them with a smile.
When I approached him one afternoon on the patio lounger where he was cooling off after doing several miles on my exercise bike, I nervously handed him my laptop with the bones of a pitch I’d put together for Mallory at the WNBA.
Alex reviewed the pitch intently, pointing out some areas I could expand upon and praising several portions effusively.
In the evenings, we cooked dinner together, with Alex chopping onions, garlic, and other vegetables while I seasoned and sautéed them with chicken and rice.
We listened to reggaeton, dancing around the kitchen, content in our cocoon of happiness.
And the nights—Lord, the nights were for pleasure.
Passion. Alex was affectionate by nature, often grabbing my hand and kissing my palm or massaging the back of my neck.
Kisses to my forehead or the side of my neck were commonplace.
So of course that affection, that attentiveness, was present in bed, where Alex was content to spend hours coaxing orgasm after orgasm from my body.
He was relentless, sometimes waking me in the morning between my legs or plying me with kisses and caresses at all hours of the night.
“I’ve wanted this—wanted you”—he breathed against my lips as he stroked inside my body—“since I first saw you. First heard you laugh. God, I don’t ever want to stop.”
And I didn’t want him to stop, either…but the sand was quickly draining from the hourglass.
On New Year’s Eve, I watched from where I was curled up on the bed as Alex packed his bag, preparing to return to his apartment to straighten up before Camila and Sam arrived. Tears burned my throat and the backs of my eyes, but I worked hard not to show it.
“Their flight gets in at five thirty, and we’re going to grab dinner at seven.” Alex paused, his brows stitching together. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
“You know I’d love to, but Denise is coming over so we can hang out before tonight.”
It had been weeks since I had seen Denise, and I missed my friend. So when she proposed coming over early to get ready together, I had jumped at the opportunity. I had also said yes before I knew how things would change with Alex.
Alex nodded. “I’m sure you’re looking forward to catching up. It just feels weird to leave after spending the week here.”
“It will be weird not to have you here.”
Alex stopped by the bed, pushing a curl from my cheek. “We’re pathetic. Acting like we’ll never see each other again when we’re going dancing in a few hours.”
“I’m a Sagittarius, so I’m dramatic by nature.” Shoving aside my melancholy, I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. “Now go get your sister, have a great time at dinner, and don’t tease Camila too much about Sam.”
“Too late. I’ve already decided I’m going to be obnoxious,” he declared, dimple flashing.
At the front door, Alex paused, turning to embrace me. He looked deeply into my eyes for a moment and then pressed his lips to mine in a toe-curling kiss. When he eventually lifted his head, Alex ran his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Can I come home with you tonight? Camila and Sam can have my apartment to themselves, and you can be the first person I see on New Year’s Day.”
No sat on the tip of my tongue. Caitlin would arrive tomorrow, and it wasn’t wise to have Alex in my home—in my bed—so close to her visit. But one last night with him was exactly what I needed.
Tucking my head under his chin, I nestled my cheek against his chest. “I want to see you on New Year’s morning, too.”
—
Denise arrived later that night, two hours before we were scheduled to be at La Respuesta.
“Puta, it’s been too long,” she declared as she handed me a paper bag filled with alcohol bottles and mixers. Taking off her coat, she hung it on a peg by the door as I gaped at her outfit. “I almost forgot what you looked like.”
“Well, you look stunning!” I twirled my finger as an instruction that Denise followed by spinning around obediently. “That purple looks amazing on you.”
“Gracias.” Denise smoothed her manicured hands over the cinched waistband of her sleeveless, high-neck dress.
The jewel tone complimented her bronze skin, and the style flattered her curves.
“It’s been so long since I had a reason to get dressed up and go out for New Year’s Eve, so I had to do it right. ”
“And you did. I love it.”
Denise flipped her long braids over her shoulder. “Maybe it’ll help me find someone new to ring in the new year with.”
My laugh rang around the room. “In that dress, people will be lining up to kiss you.”
“I’ll make sure to save some for you.” My friend’s lips quirked as she looked me up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
I glanced down at my T-shirt and flannel pajama pants and shrugged. “You know I don’t like to change until just before we leave. I don’t want to spill anything on myself.”
Denise rolled her eyes and walked past me into the kitchen. “Let me make us some drinks and you can tell me how Christmas was while you apply your makeup.”
Ten minutes later, Denise lay on my bed, an old-fashioned in her hand, as she watched me apply contour to my face at my vanity table.
I recapped the events of Nochebuena and Christmas, and shared Javi and Olivia’s pregnancy news, which Denise joined me in squealing about.
Like Caitlin, Denise also asked how Alex had enjoyed the celebration, and I strived to keep my tone nonchalant as I recapped his reception.
We continued to exchange small talk for several minutes, and when my makeup was done and my curls were set, Denise helped me zip up my short red dress. She stepped back as I hooked a pair of small gold hoops in my earlobes.
“Have you heard back from Sharon Collins?”
The change of subject caught me off guard, and I faltered before I eventually said, “Uh, yeah. She offered me a job.”
“That’s great.” Her enthusiasm brightened her face. “Did you accept?”
I dropped my gaze and reached for a gold charm necklace. “Not yet. I told her I was going to take the holidays to decide.”