Chapter 22 #2
“A graduation party sounds fun,” Sofía says, trying to defuse the tension in the room. “Where did he go to school?”
“Oxford.”
“Where are you guys heading next?” Amy asks, changing the topic and offering Oliver a half smile.
Even after everything, she’s still there, saving him.
I think that’s what love is—recognizing that the person you love will make mistakes, and sometimes they’ll hurt you, but to choose to love them anyway.
You acknowledge the flaws, but you don’t let them define the relationship.
No one is perfect, and to assume so does everyone a disservice.
Amy seems to understand that better than anyone else. I think she embodies love in its purest form.
“We’re staying in Cairns. We have a few tours scheduled for the Daintree Rainforest and a crocodile cruise.
” Sofía pulls open the calendar on her phone, her brows scrunching together at the surprise I scheduled.
“We also have a…surprise shenanigan that blows all others out of the stratosphere,” she drawls.
“What’s that?” Charlie asks.
“Uh, I have no idea,” she responds, blinking at me. “Jett scheduled it on our calendar.”
“Your calendar?” Mateo questions.
“We have a shared calendar,” I admit, oddly proud. “That way we always know what’s going on.”
Sofía leans in close. “What did you plan?”
“You’ll find out,” I say, rising from the couch. “I have to get some editing done, and I love you guys, but you distract me.”
A chorus of goodnights sounds, and I take the stairs to my cabin two at a time, hoping Sofía is behind me. I didn’t ask, and I can’t expect her to read my mind, but the delusional part of me wants her to seek me out.
I know I suggested this plan, but I have no idea what we’re doing. Truthfully, I didn’t imagine she’d agree. It was a Hail Mary, and by some miracle, she caught my pass and ran into the end zone. There was no plan in my mind past “throw the metaphorical ball.”
A hint of her scent still lingers in the room, and I settle onto the bed to edit footage from yesterday’s dives before slicing them down for the docuseries. I’m battling a particularly green video clip in Lightroom when a small tap at the door pulls my focus.
“Come in,” I call out, half focused on adjusting the contrast and tint to reveal the true colors of the coral without losing the integrity of the video.
I toggle the brightness down a few degrees, happy with my alterations, before I look up and every thought of editing and work fades away.
Sofía stands in front of the queen bed in white satin pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and hair curlers.
She clutches her laptop to her chest, and her metal water bottle dangles from her grip.
It’s not a sight I expected to see, but she’s adorable, and I set my computer to the side, drinking in her beauty. “I was hoping you’d come find me.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” she says, and I swear she sounds a bit annoyed by it.
“But you found me anyway.”
Her brow furrows, nose scrunched, like this conversation confuses her. “Why didn’t you ask me to come?”
I hum thoughtfully. “I can’t read your mind. I wasn’t sure how this arrangement works, so I figured I would wait until you let me know.”
The answer is honest, but by the way her shoulders deflate, it was somehow the wrong thing to say. Focused on her fuzzy feet, she refuses to look me in the eye. “Am I that bossy?”
“What you wanted yesterday may not be what you want today, and I don’t want to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. I want to spend every waking moment with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I always want you around.”
Her gaze snaps up. “Really?”
I shake my head and lean forward to grasp the hem of her top. With my gentle tug, she’s between my thighs, peering down at me with uncertainty. “Do you find that so surprising? That I enjoy spending time with you?”
There’s something here, an emotional scar she’s trying to hide. Sofía nibbles on her lower lip. “I know I can be…tedious—” She pauses, like she thinks I’m going to agree. When I say nothing, she rambles off more superlatives to fill the silence. “High maintenance, bossy, uptight.”
A knot of sadness lodges in my diaphragm, twisting until the discomfort is overwhelming.
The way she describes herself…it’s so far from the truth, and it slices through my heart that she believes it.
I’m realizing now that Sofía has not received the love she deserves, and she might not even realize it.
“Have I ever said those things?” I press, running my hands up and down her hips in a gentle motion.
“No,” she mumbles. “But it doesn’t mean it’s untrue.”
Fuck, my heart is breaking for her. How am I supposed to undo this damage before we get back to LA? This requires a lifetime of love, and she doesn’t want that, not from me.
Get it out of our systems. If I know what’s good for me, I’ll remember that phrase, cling to it.
I know who I am, and I know I form attachments more easily than others. I’ve never been ashamed of wearing my heart on my sleeve, hoping and dreaming about a grand love, but I’ve been more cautious since Grace. Hesitant to go on dates and unsure about myself.
But with Sofía, there’s none of those things.
There’s no making it out of this without some level of heartbreak, so I might as well dive in headfirst. If I’m going to get hurt, I’m going to do so knowing I never held back, that she had every piece I had to offer, even if it’s under the guise of this plan.
And maybe that might be enough for her to believe this could be worth a real shot.
I take the laptop from her grip, her fingers trembling as I set our things on the small desk and wrap around her in a tight embrace. She slumps against me, no fight in her as we tumble into bed. I land on top of her, lifting myself so I don’t crush her.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks, dragging her thumb along the stubble on my jaw.
“Anything, always.”
“How is Amy able to afford a trip to New Zealand?”
“You’re too damn smart,” I mutter. “No one’s supposed to know about that.”
“About what?” she presses.
“I might be paying for it,” I mumble, low and smooshed in hopes she misses the words and drops the topic.
One rule of our arrangement was that no one knew I lent Amy the money to go on the trip. She didn’t even ask, only mentioned she wished she could go with them but couldn’t afford it. I offered. She accepted with terms.
There’s no term in which I have to accept the repayment.
I have no plan to let her pay me back for the trip.
“Why?”
“Amy deserves the experience. I could give that to her, so I did. What’s the point of having money if you can’t do things with it that make a difference to someone you love? I have too much for any one person.”
She pauses, taken by surprise, and then she’s dragging me down by my collar into a kiss. There’s a question in the action, one I don’t know how to answer, and she pulls me closer, nipping at my lower lip and deepening the connection.
Eventually, we break apart, and I’m as light as air.
“You’ll never let her pay you back,” she says.
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “No.”
She kisses me again, then says, “I was thinking I could maybe stay here tonight. If you wanted.”
I tip her jaw up. “I need to get some work done,” I start, and I don’t miss the flash of disappointment, but I carry on, “so as long as you’re okay with listening to the same loop of audio a million times, then I’d love for you to stay.”
“We can work together,” she offers, playing with the hem of my shirt. “I-I could run a timer, and we could take breaks. I read it can help with focusing.”
I roll my lips to hide my smile. “Sounds like a grand plan.”
One more kiss before I force myself to work. It’s the most mundane, boring, wonderful night of my life. All because it’s spent with her.