Page 41 of Forever Mine

Me: I wish you would have at least said goodbye.

Monica: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

Me: I’m not worried about my feelings. I’m worried about yours.

Monica: I’ll be fine.

Me: I didn’t believe you the first time you texted that, and I don’t believe you now.

Monica: You should believe me. I’m always fine. I’m a survivor. No matter what is thrown my way, I’ll figure it out.

Me: You think I was ‘thrown’ your way?

Monica: Not exactly. But our situation is complicated, and I need time to process everything.

Me: I’ll ask again: are you okay?

Monica: I don’t know. Maybe.

Me: Thank you for telling me how you feel. I want the real you,querida. The unfiltered version. You don’t have to tiptoe around me. Tell me how you really feel.

Monica: Fine. You scare the hell out of me.

Me: You scare me, too.

Monica: Why?

Me: Because I feel like you’re my future.

I wanted to be honest with her, but when she doesn’t respond within a few minutes, I know I’ve scared her even more. Oh well. Can’t take it back now. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Even my ex-wife. Everything I learn about Monica makes me fall for her even more.

I begin packing my belongings. No sense in staying another night here. I know I won’t be able to sleep in this bed without her. Fuck. I was looking forward to holding her once more. I know once we’re back in Mountain Springs, she will pull away from me again.

I’ll only be home for a day before flying home to visit my family. At least I won’t be able to stop by Monica’s apartment unannounced.

The drive back to Colorado Springs seems to take forever, and I find myself taking a detour past Monica’s apartment. My drive-by is perfectly timed as she’s walking to her car, talking animatedly on her phone. She doesn’t look upset, so I imagine she’s talking to her best friend. Emily, I believe. I wonder how much she’s going to tell Emily. If she’ll be honest.

When I’m back at my condo, I look at the bare walls and the muted tones in every piece of furniture. I bet Monica’s apartment is full of color. I only saw a quick glimpse of it when I picked her up at the beginning of the week, but it screamed personality. I want Monica all over this condo. I want my space to reek of her. I want her scent infused in the couches, her clothes strewn everywhere. I want her here.

I think it will be a challenge to convince her, but I’m up for it.

“Gabriel, I thought you’d be bringing her,” my mother whines as we drive from Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport.

“Mãe, I told you I was coming alone.”

“I thought you’d surprise me with her. For my birthday.”

“You thought I’d bring a woman home to meet you? A woman I’m not dating? A woman who is scared to death of dating me, so meeting you before we’re even officially dating would be a good idea?” I ask dryly.

“Of course. I can talk you up.”

My sister Ana snorts from the driver’s seat.

“Ana, be quiet,” my mother spouts.

“What? You’d scare the poor girl,mãe. No offense,” Ana explains.

Ana is five years younger than me. My parents thought they weren’t going to have any more children after me. They tried for years and finally stopped. My mother became pregnant almost immediately. Maria is four years younger than Anna, and Juliana is the youngest at thirty-three. She’s almost the same age as Monica. I always buy cupcakes for birthdays in the office. But, I’ll admit, I knew Monica’s birthday well before that. Not much I don’t know about her.

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