Chapter 26 #2
She opens the box of medialunas taking one out for herself and one out for me. I’m supposed to be catering to her, and here she is being the one to cater to me.
“Try it, I need to see your face when you take the first bite. It’s a life altering experience.”
“Together,” I tell her. And we do. I see her bite down and her shoulders visibly relax. Like all the troubles just vanish and fade away. I like this smile on her. I want to see more of it.
I bite into it and the first thing that hits me is the buttery sweetness—like a croissant, but denser, more indulgent.
The outside has that delicate golden crust that cracks softly beneath my teeth, while the inside is pillowy and just a little sticky from the glaze.
It melts on my tongue, light but rich, the kind of sweetness that lingers without overwhelming.
There’s a faint caramel note, almost honeyed, that makes me want another bite before I’ve even swallowed the first. I can see why she likes this.
They are as sweet and delicious as she is.
“So, what do you think?” She asks, patiently waiting for my answer, “Good right?”
“You know,” I murmur, licking my thumb, “it’s like the perfect balance of sin and comfort. Looks innocent, but the second you taste it—” I pause, catching her eyes lingering on me, “—it ruins you for anything else.”
She laughs, shaking her head, but there’s a faint color in her cheeks.
I lean back, studying her, the way her lips glisten just slightly from the sugar. My chest feels heavier than it should. Not from the pastry, but something else. Something closer.
For a moment, it’s quiet, only the sound of us breathing in the same space and the cars passing through the street below us. I clear my throat, softer now. “Funny how the smallest things—food, conversation, a glance—can feel like… more than they should.”
Her gaze lifts, steady on mine, and she doesn’t look away. Neither do I. The space between us narrows, not with movement but with the unspoken pull that’s been there all along.
“Thank you,” she reaches her hand out to me, “for putting this together for me.”
I reach over and slide her chair closer.
“I haven’t had any in such a long time, I was forgetting the taste. Last time was right before my mom died. She died on my birthday, did I ever tell you that?”
The air gets thick around us, with her words. I can sense how much this still haunts her.
“Will you tell me about her?”
The city hums below, a low, distant sound, like the world is miles away.
A scatter of lights against the dark. From my balcony, it always feels like I’m watching from above, untouchable.
Being here with her, it’s quieter. The afternoon air is cool, the kind that makes her pull her knees closer to her chest. I pick her up and place her on my lap.
My hand going to her leg and rubbing my palm to warm her up.
I glance down at her, the way her hair falls forward, the tension in her shoulders. She’s somewhere far away inside her head, and I want to pull her out of it.
For a moment, I think she won’t answer. Then she exhales, shaky, and stares out at the skyline.
“She was… everything,” she says softly. “Gentle, but strong. She had this laugh that filled a room, and she always smelled like vanilla and jasmine. She used to sing when she cooked—little songs under her breath, like nothing could weigh her down.”
Her voice falters, and I see her hand tremble as she presses it against her lips.
My chest tightens at the sight. She’s fighting to hold herself together, and I hate that I can’t take that weight from her.
I want to be everything she needs. Want her to know that I’ll always be here with her no matter what.
I’ll always pick up her pieces and when she feels like she’s not strong enough, I’ll be strong for the both of us.
“She made me feel safe,” she continues. “Like no matter how ugly things got, I had her.”
I don’t move. Don’t speak. I just listen, because I know if I interrupt, she’ll close back up.
“Even when Sergio would punish me, she did her best to save me from him,” a small pause then, “my birthday was her favorite day,” she whispers, a bitter edge cutting through. “She’d wake me up with pancakes and flowers. Every year. She said the world got better the day I was born.”
Her laugh is sharp and broken, and it cuts straight through me. “But then she died. On my birthday. Same day she gave me life, she lost hers. Now… every year feels like I’m celebrating the day she was taken from me.”
Her tears spill then, silent at first, and my body reacts before my mind catches up. I hold her closer, hold her tighter. Tucking her head in my chest. She resists for half a heartbeat before melting against me, trembling.
I press my cheek to her hair, breathing her in. “I can’t change what happened,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I’d like. “But if your birthday hurts too much… then let me make new memories with you. Ones that don’t bleed.”
She doesn’t answer, but the way she leans into me says enough. And for the first time, I wonder if maybe I want those memories just as much as she needs them.
She lets herself feel for another minute, then leans back up wiping her eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all sappy. Gross.”
I wipe a rouge tear, then lean in and place a soft kiss on her lips. “Never apologize for feeling. It shows that you’re still human.”
I kiss her forehead. “Come on you need to get in the shower, if you’re going to be ready for surprise number two.”
“Are you suggesting that I stink?” She fakes being offended.
“No, but you don’t smell like me and that’s an issue.”
Our eyes both locked on each other.
“Well come with me and we can change that.” She says.
“Baby, if I go in there with you,” I lean in close, “you’ll come out dirtier than when you went in.”
I lift her off of me and place her on her feet, then lead her to the shower. I leave her a set of clean clothes for when she gets out. Her go-to black distressed jeans and one of my shirts. I love seeing her in my clothes.
“There’s towels in the warmer, I’ll have a change clothes for you ready when you get out.
Don’t rush, take your time” I leave her to do her thing, and once I hear the water running I get started on the main course for tonight.
Chicken Parmesan, with roasted potatoes, and a fried egg on the side.
The other half of her surprise is that her girls will be here along, with Caine and Roman.
So I’m making eggplant parmesan for our in house vegan.
I promised her new memories and this is how we start.
I’m half-way through getting everything ready when everyone starts arriving and I’m never more thankful than tonight, that she’s taking a long shower.
“Damn that smells amazing!” Caine’s voice come through first.
Roman’s next. “You really went all out didn’t you?”
He takes a seat at the island, while Roman serves himself a drink.
I pull out a non-alcoholic beer and hand it to Caine.
“It’s her birthday,” I say as I start plating everything. “I want to make sure it’s a good one for her.”
I hear the door open and in walks Ro and Shina.
“Wow!” Ro sing-songs. “This place is nice, you looking for a third?” She jokes. But Roman doesn’t find it funny. He gives her a dark look only she seems to understand and her cheeks flush.
“So when’s the wedding?” Shina asks.
Just then her highness decides to stroll in, looking deadly as always. She doesn’t even need any makeup. Anastasia Díaz is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
“Who’s getting married—” but she stops. “What is all this, what are they all doing here?” She asks confused.
“SURPRISE!” Ro, Shina, and Caine scream out together. Roman just gives her a soft smile, “Happy birthday trouble.”
“You did all this?” She looks around and strides to me.
“Birthday surprise number 2.5” I tell her. “The people who matter the most to you, plus your favorite dish.”
That’s when she takes in what’s laid out in front of her. Her eyes starting to water.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m don’t know why I’m being such a little bitch right now.” She lets out a small breath, “Fuck this is so nice. Thank you, all of you.”
“Actions, remember?” I lead her to her seat, and the guys carry the food over to the table. “You look beautiful. Did you put on everything I set out for you?”
“Um, yes. Why?” She gives me a curious look.
I pull my phone out and decide its time to fuck with her a bit. Would her day be complete without a little torment from yours truly?
I scroll through my apps until I land on the newest edition.
I planned this dinner down to the last detail. The chicken parm is still steaming in the center of the table, wine glasses catching the light, everyone gathered just the way I wanted.
I lean back in my chair, one arm draped casually over the back, my phone loose in my hand. To them, it looks like I’m scrolling. To me, it’s something else entirely.
My eyes find hers. She looks so composed, fork cutting neatly through her chicken, posture perfect. No one at this table would notice the tiny pause in her movement when I slide my thumb across the app. But I see it. I feel it.
Her fork lingers midair. Then she recovers, lifting the bite to her mouth with practiced grace. I hide my smile behind a sip of wine.
“Food’s actually good, man,” Roman says around a mouthful. “Didn’t think you could cook for shit.” He teases, knowing damn well mom taught all of us.
I raise a brow. “And yet you’re licking the plate clean.”
Laughter ripples around the table. Cover secured. None of them see how her thighs press together under the tablecloth. None of them notice how her lips part just slightly, a breath caught.
I tap again, a pulse this time. Short. Sharp.
Her glass trembles in her hand as she takes a drink. To everyone else, it’s nothing. To me, it’s music.
I don’t look at her. Not yet. I let the conversation wash around me. Caine’s grumbling, Shina and Ro whispering at the end of the table. I time the next vibration perfectly with the clink of silverware, notch it up higher just to watch her bite down too hard on her lower lip.
Finally, I let my eyes slide to hers. One-second. That’s all. But it’s enough. She knows I see her. Knows she’s mine, even here, surrounded by everyone she thinks is safe.
“Something wrong, Trouble?” Roman blurts, noticing her flushed cheeks.
I don’t miss a beat. “She’s just flustered because you won’t shut up while she’s trying to eat. Try chewing, Roman, it might give us all a break.”
More laughter. Easy. Natural. The tension evaporates, for them.
Not for her.
I thumb the setting down to a low hum, steady and merciful, and cut into my chicken. Finally, I taste it. Gotta pat myself on the back. It’s perfect, but still not half as satisfying as the look in her eyes. That helpless, burning mixture of defiance and need.
My food is good. But she’s better.
We’re done with dinner and clearing off the table when she notices Caine’s drink of choice. She’s been squirming since she sat down.
“Why do you have a non-alcoholic beer?”
He smirks, “Because I’m sober. Five years now.” He says proudly. And he should be. I’ve seen him at his lowest, and it killed me watching him slowly kill himself.
“Sober?” She asks confused. “But the bar—”
“Water,” he smirks.
“You son of—” I tap my screen halting her words, then I ease up. “You cheated?!” She finishes.
We all burst out laughing. The rest of the table oblivious to what’s happening. Probably blaming her slurring on the wine.
“Alright wait here and close your eyes.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again,” I tell her, tapping my screen again. “It’s time for birthday surprise number three.” Leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Can you hold it until I get back?”
She nods. And I increase the rhythm by two.
“Fuck.” A small curse under her breath only I hear.
I walk over to the fridge and pull out the cake I made for her. I made sure to cook out the alcohol of the wine, so that the flavor would remain, and that way Caine would be able to eat some too. He’s got a major sweet tooth.
Roman dims the lights and I place the cake in front of her, lighting the candle, then tapping the app off.
“Ok, open your eyes,” then I lean down, just for her to hear me. “Good girl.”
And she does. “How—How did you know?” Her eyes meet mine.
“I told you already. I know you, Happy birthday Anastasia.”
She closes her eyes and pauses. Then slowly opens them and blows out her candle.
What did you wish for Moya Vorona?