Page 135 of Hidden Memories

For a moment, we stay there, the three of us, holding on to the fragile peace.

When I rise, Santi follows, his hand brushing against mine when we step out of Theo’s room. We leave the door slightly ajar, the amber glow of the nightlight spilling into the hallway. Santi leans against the wall, his head tipping back as if letting the final bit of stress propping him up drain away. His knuckles catch my eye—raw, the skin split and bruised, each mark a testament to the lengths he went to for us tonight.

Gently, I reach for his hand. His fingers are warm, strong, but tense faintly beneath my touch.It hurts.

“We need to clean these.”

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t offer a stoic deflection. He just lets me take his hand and guide him toward his en suite bathroom. I flick bright lights on, they’re harsh against the quiet shadows of the house.

I turn the knob and adjust the temperature. The sound of running water fills the room. I guide his hand under the stream, crimson swirls away, spiraling down the drain, carrying pieces of the night with it. His rough hand is heavy in mine. I brush my thumb over his knuckles, featherlight, affectionate. Eventually taking the other.

Santi doesn’t flinch. He watches me instead, his gaze burning with a fierce intensity that fortifies me.

“I thought I lost you both.” The words catch in his throat.

I meet his eyes. They’re darker than usual, swimming with emotions he hasn’t let himself speak aloud. His ache pierces through me.

“You didn’t.” I turn off the faucet and gently dab a towel on his hand to dry it. “And we didn’t lose you either.”

He brushes his fingers against my cheek and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The tenderness in the gesture undoes me, and tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“Kat,” he murmurs, his voice a thread binding us tighter. “Since the day I met you, here or not, you’ve been the gravity that holds me together.”

His forehead dips to mine. His vulnerability wraps around my heart.

“I love you. Simple as that. I fucking love you…”

And then, as if the space between us no longer exists, his lips find mine. The kiss is anything but gentle. It’s fierce, desperate, a clash of everything we’ve held back and everything we almost lost. All the pain, the longing, the fight, the fear—it’s all here, spillingover.

Santi’s hands frame my face, his fingers lacing into my hair, anchoring me to him like he’s afraid to let go. And I don’t want him to let go. Not now. Not ever.

I wind my arms around his neck, pressing my body on his. He releases a groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating through my chest, unraveling me.

He takes me like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life. And maybe, so have I.

Because this isn’t just a kiss.

It’s a homecoming.

And then?—

The sound of boots on the porch.

A sharp knock at the door.

My pulse jumps, the tension I thought I’d left behind snapping back into place.

Santi moves first. His body is tense, already prepared for whatever comes next. We both rush downstairs.

When he opens the door, Gabriel is there. And behind him—Rio, Anton, Luis, Enzo.

All of them.

Gabriel’s expression is grim. “Your father’s at the gate.”

“What does he want?” Santi bites.

“He says he wants to help.”

---