Page 24 of Hidden Memories

It was something else.

Something mysterious, impossible to resist.

Chemistry?

No.

It was the way I wanted to open up around her—how her closed-book nature made me feel like she understood exactly how precious it was to let someone crack your spine and see what was inside.

I know a few things about Kat now, though it’s not through direct conversation so much as what I’ve gathered. She’s definitely from a wealthy family. She mentioned it’s only her father around now and joked about her mom running away with the pool boy, though I could see she laughed about it, maybe so she didn’t cry. For as rich as she is, she surely seems deprived of love. If she gets any, it’s on conditions set by her father. He sounds like he’s as good at being an asshole as he is at making money.

Our conversations have made me more grateful for my own family. Despite how hard we’re all having it right now with Mom gone, the stark contrast between Kat’s superficial dad and my own, who loves so hard he’s empty right now, somehow has given me hope the Mendez family will find brighter days.

For the first time since my mom died, I find myself wanting to give someone else what I miss most.

I want to give Kat something steady, something real.

Something that doesn’t demand, only gives.

Kat—who makes the world ten times more beautiful with her oil pastels and breathtaking smile.

As I come up the hill on Hector, Ares trots into view on the crest, his muscles rippling beneath the late afternoon sun.

She’s here.

I knew she would be. It’s our fifth time meeting here. Once, she came on a weeknight, and I got the sense itwas a big deal for her to do so. Mostly, I’d come on weekends, crashing her solitude. These meetings are no longer by chance.

I come for Kat.

For the way she makes the world sharper and brighter. For the way she and this tree offer me something I didn’t realize I was desperate for—respite.

I’m not hopeless anymore. I’m not empty.

I’m healing.

Slowly. But I am.

She’s hunched over, back against the tree, her hand sweeping smooth, purposeful strokes across her notepad. The wind stirs her hair, but she doesn’t move to fix it, and something in my chest tightens.

Then, without looking up, her lips lift at the corner.

It’s small—so small I might have missed it if I wasn’t so goddamn tuned in to everything about her.

But it’s there.

She’s happy to see me.

That tiny, almost-hidden curve of her lips sends a pulse of nervous energy through me, my body torn between wanting to pull her against me and needing to sit down before my legs give out.

The breeze is gentle. The grass whispers in the wind around her.

She keeps her eyes on her work. “I missed you last weekend.”

I amble closer. “Yeah, I had a rodeo. I finally got a price agreed for the perimeter fencing. But Enzo is being a real pain in the ass about the gate. Fort Knox ain’t cheap. So I needed to win.”

“How did you do?”

She glances up, and I could rip open that shirt of hers right now and send the buttons flying to the next town over.

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