Page 38 of Violent Attraction

I can’t form a response, so all I do is stand there and give him a smile, silently telling him that I appreciated it.

That day played over and over in my head that by the time I crossed the border into Mexico headed to San Pedro, and arrived at my father’s estate, I wanted to run out of the car and go find Cristiano. I wanted to tell him that it was because of that conversation, that I started to forgive Santos little by little.

But of course, I couldn’t, because he wasn’t there.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, and instead of going to find Cristiano, I went to look for Amelia. I half expected her to be surrounded by people, by her son, but the only other person I found with her was Camila.

I spent hours with the two of them and helped console Amelia as much as I possibly could. Eventually she fell asleep, and Cam and I let her be.

After crying out our own tears when we headed back to our side of the estate, I was supposed to fall asleep, but that didn’t happen. So, I went for a walk.

That’s when I heard the silent cries.

I turned the corner and saw Santos sitting there by himself crying into a bottle of tequila.

Without thinking about it, I went to him.

It took a few years to think about fully forgiving him but when I saw him break over his father, I couldn’t hold any more anger towards him.

I held him in my arms as tight as I could and shed my own tears when I heard just how deep his pain was.

That was hours ago, now I’m currently lying on a bed, on top of the covers looking at the boy that held me when my own mother died, as he sleeps

He looks peaceful and much older than he looked the last time I saw him.

I shouldn’t be here, especially after everything that happened when I last stepped into this room. But I couldn’t leave him.

He was drunk and mourning and shouldn’t have been alone, so I stayed.

As I watch his chest rise with every single breath he takes, I contemplate leaving more and more.

I’m almost done convincing myself to leave this bed, when he shifts and turns to face me. His eyes finding me right away, holding me still and anchoring me to the mattress.

“Buenos días.” His voice is filled with sleep and reminds me of everything that I ever loved about this man.

“Good morning.” I tuck my hands under the pillow and just look at him.

There are dark bags under his eyes, which makes it seem like he could sleep for a few more hours.

“You stayed.” It’s not a question.

I give him a small nod. “I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I also thought that you shouldn’t be alone.”

He continues to look at me, not saying anything, not moving. His eyes just continue to bore into mine. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he shifts and a hand lands between us. With his eyes, he silently asks for me to take it.

I hesitate for a second but ultimately place my hand in his.

“Thank you for being here.” His rough palm meets mine and like that night many years ago, I marvel at the feeling of it against my skin.

I give his hand a squeeze. “You’ve always said that you’d be there for me. This is me being there for you.” I leave out the part where I want to say that I will always be there for him.

I would though. Given everything that we have been through together, I would be there for him in a heartbeat for however long that he needed.

Santos closes his eyes and holds my hand tighter. “I’ve fucked up so much when it comes to you.”

He has.

But if he hadn’t, would I be the woman that I am today? Would have I gone to Austin and gotten my degree, and been able to get the position that I did?

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