Page 87 of Fruit
“That makes no sense. You realised you had feelings for me so you broke things off? I call bullshit.”
“I was trying to respect—You, yousaid—”
“And if I’d told you to jump off a cliff when you felt something for me you would have?”
“That’s not—”
“It is, though. It is. Because when I realised—I was on my way to tell you I, that I had feelings for you. You developed feelings for me, and your reaction was todumpme. To, like, say—that’s it. That’s it,forever, everything we could have had and, like…been together. Just, nothing. Not worth the fight.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What, exactly, isn’t fair? That you were a fucking coward about it and broke my heart?” I burst out, hurt and enraged, because if he thinks I’m not good enough to fight for, then maybe he was right for ending things. Sebastián looks at me, his face falling, and I look away. I hadn’t meant to reveal that much.
“It’s not as simple as that. You were the one who put those boundaries. If I had been the one, they would have been easier to break, but—I know this sounds like an excuse, but it felt…wrong, to be convinced you didn’t feel the same way, to know that you had put in boundaries to stop this kind of situation from developing, and to break them anyway. It felt dishonest and disrespectful to, just…”
“Sebastián. That is all utter bullshit,” I say, and talk over him as he tries to interrupt. “No—it is. You were scared. It’s as simple as that. You were scared of…” Suddenly, it’s hard to say. Because it hits me, why our positions aren’t the same.
It’s not because I was the one to place the boundaries. It’s not because Sebastián felt he was doing something morally wrong by being dishonest about his compliance with those boundaries when he slept with me. Or, if it is, it’s only a small part of it. The truth is, Sebastián knows loss in a way I can’t understand. Not just of his brother, but his family. The people that were supposed to show him what love is, how it works, how you can depend on it.
By all accounts, Sebastián found another family to belong to in Thiago and his mom. Found a community in the youth club and the staff and members that attend it. But those early lessons about life don’t just get erased. They lie dormant until they smell danger and then rear their heads to bite.
Why didn’t you fight for me?I wanted to ask. I would have. I was going to. But at the slightest danger, he chose to leave me rather than stay. And I could pretend to say that the main reason I was feeling like this is because it’s a massive red flag, to be with someone who does that. But the truth is, it’s my pride that’s wounded. I can explain it away by his past, but one fear remains.
I don’t want to love someone more than they love me back.
“You were scared to lose me,” I finish, but force myself to continue. “You were scared and instead of fighting you pushed me away and I…I get why. But. You were ready to just give this up. Maybe you do feel something for me but it’s not, it’s not—”
“No,” he says, and wraps his hands around my upper arms for a second before letting me go. “No. Fuck, it was killing me. I was going crazy, Iva. I was…the day of the opening of your gallery show I got drunk for the first time since cleaning up,” he says.
My gut clenches at that, and I open my mouth, but he shakes his head.
“You’re right. Iwasscared. But I didn’t—I didn’t break things off because I didn’t feel enough. It’s the opposite. If it’d been less, it would have been easier to handle. But it’s…”
My breath is caught in my throat. Sebastián lifts one hand and brushes his thumb over my cheek, a whisper of a touch, as if he’s not sure if he’s allowed.
“You fucking idiot,” I say, my voice wavering, and get on my toes to kiss him.
The relief I feel as his mouth parts under mine is visceral. It burns at the edge of my eyes, making me laugh wetly against him.
“You fucking idiot,” I repeat, and he doesn’t protest because, as valid a reason as he perhaps had to react the way he did to his emotions, the fucker still put us both through the wringer when we could have been doing this, feeling just like this, all along.
Sebastián manoeuvres me back and up onto the counter. Somehow, I understand this isn’t the prelude to sex in the youth club kitchen. Instead, it’s so I can wrap my legs around him, so he can press in close to me, as close as he can get, wrapping his arms around me so that I’m folded into him completely.
I kiss him desperately, deeply, having to pause for breath every few seconds, because I can’t get my lungs to stop gasping, as if they’ve been underwater too long and are begging for air.
“Don’t do that again,” I muffle against his lips, and then pull away because this is important. “Don’t do that again,” I repeat, looking into Sebastián’s eyes. “I get you were scared. But you’ve got to, we’ve got to—”
“Iva.” He cradles my head in his large hand. I can smell the scent of him, taste him on my lips, see the rings of his glow in my eyes. “For as long as you want me, I’m never letting you fucking go again.”
He presses his forehead against mine. We’re both panting. I pretend my breaths don’t sound a little watery.
“Are your pieces still being displayed in the gallery?” he asks. I have to take a moment to catch up.
“Um. Yeah? For like two more days.”
“Let’s go.”
I pull back to look at him incredulously. “Now?”
