Page 24 of When Love Changes Everything

I smile, tracing the curve of his letters before setting it down. With a cup of coffee, I pull out a stool and settle in, absently scrolling through my phone. Notifications blur together as I mentally sift through which calls I’ll return first.

But the effort is fleeting. Before I know it, I’ve set the phone aside, my thoughts inevitably circling back to him—his laugh, the way his eyes soften when he looks at me, the comfort of his presence. The ache of missing him surprises me; he’s only out for a run. Yet, here I sit, counting the minutes until he walks through that door.

I’ve never been in a serious relationship. Most of the ones I’ve been in have wound up slipping quickly and effortlessly into the “friendship zone.” None ever came close to resembling anything that felt like a future.

Then I met Mateo, and everything changed.

Every date I went on after that felt hollow compared to the way he made me feel when we were together. In a crowded room, I’d zero in on the sound of his voice—deep, swoony, and unmistakable. His eyes would search the space until they locked on mine, and that subtle nod he’d give—a quiet, unspoken hello—would send my heart soaring. He made me laugh in ways that left me breathless. In those moments, I wasn’t just his daughter's friend. I was the center of his universe.

And then came the time for him to return to Mérida, a knot would tighten in my chest. I’d remind myself that I wasn't into older men, but I’d still find my throat thick with emotion, wishing he didn’t have to go.

The last time he was in Cold Spring, we met up a few times, sneaking away for hikes on quiet trails, always careful not to let anyone—especially Lily—know we were spending time alone. There was a certain thrill to the secrecy, to stolen moments where it was just the two of us.

It was during one of those hikes that he almost kissed me. I remember stumbling on uneven ground, my heart racing for a reason that had nothing to do with the terrain. He caught me before I could fall, his strong arms steady around me. I laughed, feeling silly and embarrassed for not watching my step, though the truth was, I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and every stolen look made it harder to pretend otherwise.

As he steadied me, his eyes softened with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.

"I am now," I said with a small smile, leaning casually against a nearby boulder to adjust my shoe.

When I looked up, his gaze was sweeping over me with a tenderness so profound that it made my heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just the way he looked at me—it was the raw intensity behind it, telling me I was important to him, and he knew there was something special growing between us.

“Have you ever been kissed by an older man?” he murmured, stepping closer. His scent wrapped around me like a spell. I remember thinking if heaven could be captured in a bottle, it would smell like him: alluring, seductive, and dangerously addictive.

“Why?” I managed. “Are you volunteering?”

His lips quirked with the faintest hint of a smile. “Would you let me?”

I hesitated, feeling his nearness, the pull of his gaze. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you,” I said, my voice almost pleading. The memory of Lily’s warnings rang in my ears. “If Lily knew, she’d kill me.”

He tilted his head, his voice dropping even lower. “I think she’d kill me first,” he murmured. “But I’d die a happy man.”

I couldn't help but smile, my defenses melting, slipping away with every beat of my heart. “Has any woman ever been able to resist your charm?” I asked, knowing full well my own resistance had already burned to ashes.

"That depends on your answer," he said, leaning in close. His gaze darkened, the blue of his eyes deepening like the ocean before a storm, pulling me under.

"No," I admitted. "I've never been kissed by an older man."

My heart hammered in my chest, each beat loud and insistent, as his hand slid slowly up my arm. His touch was deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, until his fingers came to rest lightly on the curve of my neck.

I remember the way his touch felt—warm, and impossibly good. It was a moment I had been waiting for all along.

For a moment, we stood there, the raw attraction we both felt daring us to cross a line we knew we could never uncross. But in the end, we simply resumed our hike, letting the silence speak for us. A few days later, he was gone, leaving only the memory of that almost-moment and all the words we’d left unsaid.

***

Now he’s back, and the feelings we once buried are clawing their way to the surface, impossible to ignore.

I touch my lips, my eyes drifting closed as the memory washes over me. That one tender kiss—it was everything. So good, so perfect, that I can almost feel the faint tingle still lingering on my lips, a ghost of his touch haunting me in the best way.

When the phone rings, I reach for it absentmindedly, the action so automatic I don’t realize until it’s too late that I’ve picked up Mateo’s phone instead of mine. "Hello?" I murmur, my voice soft, still caught in the haze of the memory that lingers, leaving an undeniable mark on my heart.

"Hello, this is Vivian from Jewelers Mutual. May I please speak to Mr. Cruz?"

"He's not home right now," I say. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"Yes, thank you. I’m calling to let him know the paperwork for the insurance coverage on the engagement ring he purchased yesterday is ready for his signature. He can stop by anytime. We're open until six.”

“Yes... I’ll let him know. Thank you.”

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