Page 50 of Out of Office

I paused, flabbergasted at his explanation. He didn’t expect this to become a thing?

A thing?

He was the man I’ve been searching for, for weeks. I should have known; how did I not put two and two together?

“Why the pseudonym?” Maybe if I focused on small details, I would avoid the encroaching fear mingled with anger threatening to take over.

“I went to school for architecture for my parents. I wanted to redesign Villa Bonita. You haven’t seen pictures of what it was, but it was a mess, falling apart. It needed so much work. And we didn’t have the money. I’d always had an artistic side, loved to draw, and I had a good eye for design and was handy. It all made sense in my eighteen-year-old mind. Then it took me years to finish my studies. Years because I kept taking time off to help in Villa Bonita or help Claudia and Mario with the kids. My grandpa, Dad’s dad, was the one to encourage me to finish. He had me stay at his place in the city to focus. By the time I was close to graduating, he had passed, and... I wanted to honor him, so I started signing my designs with our family’s old last name and my first two initials. It stuck, and those designs got me in at my firm.”

“Oh...but why...why the secrecy?”

“There is none, at least not in my circles. My old colleagues have been respectful of my need to leave my career because they know what happened. I think people made the situation more mysterious than it was.”

“What happened?” I rested my hand on his chest, where I could feel his heartbeat the strongest. Whatever it was...it was life-changing. I could see it in his haunted gaze. My fear hadn’t diminished, but it had taken a different color.

What about us two hadn’t allowed him to open up about this? I had to trust we could avoid something like this in the future. Here I was thinking of an us, while finding out he kept something so big from me. I really was gone.

“I had a very important presentation of the Panamá Tropics project that evening...it was my birthday, and I usually went to Colón, but I decided to stay in the city. Too much work. It had become the norm. I hadn’t been in Colón for months. The only time was when they came to Panamá City. Mom, Pops, everyone would pack up the car and head to my place. They decided to surprise me. Two cars in a caravan on that dark road...” His voice broke, and he shuddered under my touch. Suddenly I didn’t want him to say it; I knew what was coming.

“Oh, Adrián.”

“Yeah. My dad lost control of their car. We aren’t certain how. Chichi was riding with them, but miraculously he was okay. All the damage was in the front of the car. They were probably gone on impact. They hit a pole on the side of the road.”

Tears gathered in my eyes as Adrián got emotional. He wasn’t over the hurt, but how could he ever be? And without asking, I understood he blamed himself. I understood why he’d kept it from me. Not because he wanted to hide it, but because he had not fully processed it all himself. That didn’t excuse him keeping things from me, but my heart broke to hear what he’d been through.

“I’m rational. I promise I understand the danger of the blame game, but objectively, they wouldn’t have been on that road if it wasn’t for me. If it wasn’t for me prioritizing work over them. The sense of pride I felt every time I put money in my parent’s bank account was my driver, but pride was my fall. I was getting great projects, being pulled in different directions. I was exploring my sexuality in the city where there was a little bit more open-mindedness, not that my parents ever made me feel less, but others...they just didn’t understand.”

The download of so much between the two of us had drained me of all semblance of delicacy; I wanted to comfort him and sleep. That simple.

The rest I would sort out tomorrow with a clear mind. But understanding that the name of A.D. Nicholson was so connected to the trauma he was still healing from...it made sense. It made sense why he had separated himself from all that reminded him of how he had neglected his family in his eyes.

“Adri...let’s go to sleep. I get it. I do. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have experienced losing my parents like that and... I even understand blaming yourself even though you know you had no control over what happened that night. Whatever shortcomings you think you have, you are your family’s rock, and now that we are together... Maybe I can be your support too? We will figure it all out tomorrow. But for now, let’s rest.”

“Are you upset with me?” he asked, his voice already trailing off as I plopped next to him, and he gathered me in, his arm draped over my waist, hand on my belly. My heart settled securely, knowing we would figure out the next steps together.

“Anger filled me at first, to know you’d kept something so big from me. It took all of me to keep levelheaded while you spoke. Now...I don’t know. I...I’m not. I... I wish you’d told me, felt comfortable opening up. What does this say about our mutual trust?”

“No, no. That was exactly my fear. Every day that I didn’t tell you who I was I feared what damage I could be doing to our trust. I just... I justified it all in my mind, at first I thought we wouldn’t last the two weeks. Then it was too new, we were getting to know each other, I figured I had time. But then once Tropics started looking for me... I should have said something, no matter how hard it was. No matter the fear I felt about the proposal they wanted to give me... I should have been sincere. Because I do trust you, and I want you to trust me. I mishandled this and I’m so sorry for the hurt and anger I caused. I don’t want this to become what breaks us.”

Ugh. This man. He even apologized perfectly. No matter how much I wanted to hold on to anger and indignation, I just didn’t have it in me. I knew he was dealing with grief from the time he showed me his parents resting place. To now know how deeply embedded his career was to that grief... I couldn’t imagine. If I lost my mom tomorrow due to work, how would that impact my mental health?

“I don’t want this to break us either. So we won’t let it, it’s that simple. We knew it would be bumpy at first...” The tinge of fear of the unknown resonated an alarm, but I ignored it. I’d always gone into my decisions with a full deck of information, everything studied. Pros and cons detailed. Not this time, and I wouldn’t let the fear take over. Even if our first day together in Florida had been less than desirable.

“I love you, Preciosa.” He said it so simply and I felt every impact of the weight of his words. I didn’t need anything more than that.

“And I you,” I said because, with us, it was that straightforward. That easy.

We both fell asleep seconds later, the first night of the rest of our life.

No more snoozing.

I jumped out of the bed and had exactly thirty-five minutes to get myself together and out of the door. The vestiges of anger, fear, and determination lingered in the back of my mind like pesky flies that refused to go away.

Adrián lay sprawled, the laugh lines next to his mouth showing slightly more than the last time I saw him. I couldn’t wait to see how time would mark him gently and for me to be the person to catalog each and every change. It was a privilege I wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t taken this risk and for that I was thankful. With all the chaos of our lives converging, there wasn’t a moment I didn’t feel unvarnished joy being with him. My doubts were not of our compatibility, nor our love, but of every other practicality that surrounded our everyday life.

They said love conquered all, but that was the movies and books. Here I had the sexiest, most beautiful, kind man I had ever met, inside and out, and love was working overtime to ensure we could smooth over all the little fires that kept creeping up around us.

I dashed to the bathroom where I took the most efficient, shortest shower ever—then dealt with my makeup while the flat iron warmed up so I could smooth my hair. I hurried out to put the coffee on, but a warm sturdy body collided with mine.

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