“No running! This is hot, hot, hot, remember? You could get hurt.”
Liliana slowed and gave her a baby-toothed grin. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“Lorenzo? Some coffee? It’s regular, but I can brew some decaf if you’d prefer.”
He stood, his presence overwhelming the small, yet cozy room. “Regular’s fine.” He walked toward her and she held out a cup, but he just stared at it.
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s black.”
Lily lowered her cup-filled hand, her brow wrinkling. “Oh, well, would you prefer cream and sugar?”
“Why did you give it to me black?”
She bit her lip, gave Liliana a quick glance – she was still lost in the euphoria of a surprise hot chocolate – then turned back to him. “You used to drink it black. I just thought…well, never mind. What would you like in it?”
“You remembered.”
Her voice was a whisper, and she wasn’t sure he heard her. “I’d never forget you, or anything about you.”
The air became thick and heavy, with the sort of despair that comes over someone when they realize all they’ve lost.
Then she remembered why she lost it, why she had to give him up, and what would happen to her once everyone found out about them, and about Liliana. A shudder rippled through her, settling like ice in her veins.
She was broken from her thoughts by Lorenzo leaning down and taking the cup from her hands. She looked up into his dark eyes, and they seemed more curious than angry. She’d imagined this day a lot over the last five years. She’d imagined his anger, his disbelief – all of that she’d seen on the beach that morning. She’d never imagined there might be curiosity or interest as well.
His voice was like a warm wave, washing the ice away. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
Lily turned to their princess, who was sitting next to her enjoying her drink, her little feet kicking in excitement. “The kitchen. Lily, honey, we’re just going to get something from the kitchen, okay? Stay on the couch and we’ll be right back.”
“Okay, Mama.”
When they walked inside the small space she turned to face Lorenzo, but gasped instead as he maneuvered her against the fridge, his long arms pinning her in on either side. His body didn’t touch hers but it felt as though it was. “Lorenzo.”
“Why are you wearing that?”
She blinked. “I–what?”
“That shirt. You were wearing that color the day you walked away from me.”
“I, I didn’t realize it. I swear I didn’t.” Realization dawned. “Is that why you were so angry when you arrived?”
He searched her face for several moments, then relaxed and leaned away from her, his arms falling away. “Yes, it was. I thought you were playing games, but I believe you weren’t. I don’t know why I should believe anything you say, but I do.”
Her shoulders sagged and she dragged her hands through her hair. “Look, can we do this later? You can insult me all you want when we’re alone, but not in front of Lily.”
He stiffened, then leaned closer again. “And that’s another thing. Why did you name her Lily?”
“You know why,” she whispered, then shook her head. “Not now, okay? Ask me anything later, after she’s asleep. We’ve only got another minute before she gets distracted and comes looking for us.”
He pursed his lips, but nodded. “You’re right. We’ll wait. Now tell me: what’s the best way to approach her with this conversation? You’re the one who knows her best.”
She could feel the pain in his words, pain that she’d caused, pain that she’d had to cause to protect him. God, what would he do if he found out? If he realized who was really behind their separation?
She cleared her throat. “Keep it simple and keep it straight. Lily gets easily distracted, but if she recognizes this is serious, she’ll sit still for a little while. If you can trust me a little more, it might be best if I started the conversation.”
He stiffly nodded, reluctantly agreeing. “How do you think she’ll take this?”