Page 41 of The No Falling Rule
Chapter 13
Diego
The place glows in soft amber light, the low chatter of guests blending with the faint rhythm of the ocean outside. Candles flicker between glasses of wine, catching the shine of Mia’s hair every time she moves. A small band plays near the bar, the soft strum of guitars and the steady rhythm of the bongos filling the air with bachata. It should be the perfectnight.
But I can’t stop thinking about my conversation with my brother.
I wasn’t happy when Armando informed me I had to fly to Chile tomorrow to be ready for a meeting on the 26th. When I tried to push back, Dad reminded me that I was the one who’d made the case for expanding our South American market. And he’s right—this has been my deal from the get-go.
But I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mia—I’ll never be ready to let her go.
The scent of roasted garlic and lemon butter drifts over to our table, but I barely notice. Mia sits beside me, idly tracing the rim of her glass with one finger. Her plate is mostly untouched.
“Do you want me to ask the kitchen to bring you something different?” I ask, trying to see if there’s something wrong.
“Oh, no. This is fine,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “I’m not sure why I’m not hungry all of the sudden.”
“Mia, look at me,” I say, my tone firmer than I intend. Her thoughtful brown eyes lift to meet my blue gaze. “We might not have known each other for long, but I can tell when something’s off. If something's bothering you, please let me know—and I’ll fix it.”
Her eyes flutter closed, her lips tremble, her shoulders sag. I reach for her waist and pull her onto my lap. It pains me seeing her like this—she’s usually a ray of light.
When she buries her face in the crook of my neck, I hold her tight.
“I’m so sorry, Diego. I’m so sorry.”
“Bonita, what’s going on?” I ask, desperate to make her feel better.
“I just think it’s been a very emotional day, you know? Christmas hasn’t been easy for me in a while, and today was so amazing. I'm just crashing from the adrenaline high you gave me all day.”
I let out a low chuckle, and she starts laughing too. I finally let myself relax.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s order some desserts and take them to my room.” I’m hoping a change of scenery will lift her mood.
She lifts her face, and for the first time tonight, she smiles with her eyes.
“You like that idea?” I ask, leaning close to nibble her ear. She nods, cheeks flushing.
“Just you wait—you’ll see what I have planned for us after I eat you all nightlong.”
I signal the waiter, asking him to send our dessert to my suite. When I glance back at Mia, she’s still smiling, her fingers drawing lazy circles on the tablecloth.
Watching her like this—content but still a little distant—makes me come up with a wild thought.
Would Mia say yes if I invited her to go to Chile with me? We could spend New Year's there. It’s summer in the southern hemisphere, after all.
A bunch of ideas race through my head. I know she wants to go to school and keep working on a farm, but the thought of having her travel with me? That’s the last piece of the puzzle I’d been missing before telling her what I really want. Handling my business while still having her by my side. Maybe even show her what life with me could really look like.
The band shifts into a slower bachata. The guitar shimmers like starlight. Mia’s fingers find mine under the table, and the restaurant blurs to a warm hush.
“Dance with me,” I say.
We slip from the table and onto the small patch of floor near the band. Her palm settles in mine, her other hand on my shoulder; my hand finds the curve of her back. We fall into an easy rhythm—close and unhurried.
Music winds around us, and the ocean breeze drifts in through the open glass doors, lifting the edge of her hair and blending the waves with the melody.
Little by little, she relaxes, her smile returning in pieces until it’s whole again.
When the song fades, I tip my forehead to hers. “Ready to head out?”
