“That’s the whole story, I promise.” Sighing, I averted my eyes to my hands, which were lying on the smooth surface of the table. My fingers were busy playing with my empty glass. “Aaron started working for InTech, and that’s how we met. What else is there that you want to know?”
“I want the details you haven’t told me.”
I could tell my sister was about to start whining in that annoying and persistent way that had never once failed to break people and make them give her whatever it was she wanted. I had been there myself—many times.
She tilted her head. “Hey, if you guys experienced lust at first sight and started hooking up and then dating, it’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of. Plus, it would explain that bed-breaking rumor going around.”
My lips parted, and my eyes widened. “Charo works faster than I thought,” I muttered.
I sensed Aaron shifting by my side, closing the small distance between our arms.
But I didn’t turn to look at him as my sister continued, “I am not Mamá, Lina. You can tell me.” My sister batted her eyelashes, and I heard how Gonzalo cleared his throat. “Or share with the group—fine, whatever.” She rolled her eyes at her fiancé. “Come on. We are listening. Did you guys hook up first? And if so, how many times?”
Daniel, who had been oddly quiet for someone who was supposed to be having a good time, sighed noisily. “I don’t think there’s any need to share that with the group.”
My gaze swiveled in his direction, finding him with a deadpan expression.
“Thanks, Dani,” Isabel gritted out between her teeth. “But I’ll let my sister decide if she wants to share her sexcapades with the table.”
Oh Lord, did she just call it sexcapades?
At the change in Isabel’s tone, Gonzalo wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. I watched Isabel’s body relax immediately, letting go of what I knew were years of contained animosity toward her fiancé’s brother.
Sighing silently, I felt a pang of guilt slice across my chest. It was unprecedented, and I had no reason to feel responsible for the situation, but at the same time, it was hard not to let some of the weight fall on my own shoulders.
In an ideal world, the best man wouldn’t be my ex. In that same world, I wouldn’t have panicked when learning that he was engaged while I seemed to be stuck in time and alone, and I wouldn’t have felt the need to lie to my family and tangle myself into the web of deception I had woven. Perhaps, in that ideal world, the man by my side would be there because he loved me and not because I had struck a deal with him.
But those scenarios were hypothetical and therefore unreal. Unattainable. And each of them painted a picture that was far from the truth. In the real world, there was a consequence to every decision I made. To every choice that I ever took. A perfect world where life happened neatly and ideally didn’t exist. Life was messy and often hard. It did not wait for anybody to be ready or to expect the bumps on the road. You had to grab on to the wheel and steer your way back to your lane. And that was all I had done. That was what had brought me to where I was. For better or for worse.
It was unfortunate that the one man who Gonzalo shared DNA with was not only my ex, but also the man who had been the other half of the relationship that was the catalyst for me leaving everything I had once called home. But I had made the choice to date him. My university professor. The man who would introduce my sister to the love of her life.
Because life wasn’t ideal. It turned and bent. It spun you out for a minute and swung you right back in the next.
Contrary to what most believed, when I had applied for the program abroad that had taken me to New York, a year after everything had blown up in my face, I hadn’t been escaping Daniel; I had been escaping the situation that my relationship with him had thrust me in. Granted, in the process, he had also broken my heart. And that was what everybody saw. The scolded, heartbroken runaway. But the damage went beyond a simple breakup. After that, I went through the worst year of my life. I almost quit uni and threw away my education. My future. All because people, those I had considered friends at some point, spun disgusting lies about me. And it hadn’t only scarred me; it had also impacted my family.
For one, that sadness that everybody had regarded me with stuck to me across time. And the very few times I had come back home, single, it had thickened until solidifying into something that I carried with me.
Even my parents in a way. I could tell they were scared I’d never bounce back from it. Which was stupid. I was over Daniel. My singlehood had nothing to do with that. I simply … struggled to trust somebody enough to give myself completely. I managed to keep myself one or two feet from anything that had the potential to hurt me. And that always ended one of two ways. I either walked away, or I was the one who was walked away from. But at least, I did come out of it wholly.
As for Isabel, she had gone from loving Daniel for giving her Gonzalo to threatening the best man’s balls. Repeatedly. And while she turned into my fiercest protector and cheerleader, the breakup never shook the foundation of her own relationship. Which was evidence of how much they adored and loved each other. Besides, over the years, she had come to accept that even if Daniel had been at fault for a part, he hadn’t done anything besides accept to break some unspoken rule about dating a former student. Society had done the rest.
Which didn’t give me—or Isabel or Daniel—the right to force Gonzalo to pick a side. Something that Isabel had come to terms with. Eventually. In her own way.
“There were no sexcapades, Isa.” I shook my head lightly, trying to shove all those thoughts and memories away.
“Not even one? Come on. You guys work together. And I saw you during the soccer match. You—”
“It was a very boring and uneventful meeting,” I interrupted her. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Isabel’s mouth opened, and I was left with no choice but to elbow my fake boyfriend.
Maybe Aaron’s confirmation would appease her.
“Correct,” he said, and I could hear the amusement in his voice. “No sexcapades took place.”
I watched my sister’s lips clip closed.
“Unfortunately,” he added.
My own mouth was the one clamping down then. Or it fell open and to the floor—I didn’t know.
Don’t look at him. Don’t look shocked. This is all part of the deception.
Focusing on my sister, I ignored Aaron’s last comment and smiled—hopefully naturally.
Isabel reached for the bottle of sidra and poured a culín in my glass, filling only the bottom of it. Exactly how tradition stated sidra had to be served. Once she had served me a culín, Isabel proceeded to do the same with Aaron’s glass. “You are not telling me something.” Her eyes narrowed to thin slits as she pushed our drinks in our direction. Then, she leveled only me with a look. “I can see it in your eyes. Drink.”
I didn’t think she was bluffing. Lying wasn’t something I was particularly good at, and my sister had the sibling ability to see right through me.
My palms started sweating. My sister was onto something. And I needed to start talking, give her anything.
I downed the contents of my glass in one single gulp—exactly how tradition specified too.
“Fine, okay.” I placed my empty glass on the table. “All right, so the day Aaron and I met …” I started, my eyes unconsciously jumping to Aaron’s face and finding him looking at me with a new kind of interest. I returned my gaze to Isabel. “It was a cold and dark November 22—” I stopped myself, feeling the need to explain why I remembered the date so accurately. “I remember because it was the day of my birthday, not because—” I stopped myself again. Then, I shook my head. I had barely started, and I was doing an awful job already. This was why I should never, ever lie. “Anyway, it was November.”
Aaron’s hand brushed my back very softly. The touch unsettled me at first, but then it magically instilled confidence in me. Just how he had done earlier that day. How he managed to do that, I couldn’t know. But when he moved his fingers over the fabric of my thin blouse, right above my shoulder blades, I felt a little less like a fraud.
“But that isn’t important, I guess,” I continued, and I had to clear my voice lightly because it had come out a little shaky. “When I first met Aaron, it was the day he was introduced as a new team leader by our boss.”
Aaron’s touch turned loose and airy, and then it stopped altogether.
Trying to keep my head on the story and away from the dainty trail of goose bumps he’d left on my skin, I continued, “He entered through that door, all cold confidence and determination. Looking larger than life with those long legs and broad shoulders, and I swear everybody in that meeting room fell into silence. I could immediately tell he’d be that kind of man everybody … respected—for lack of a better word—without more than a word or two. Just by the way he looked around, assessing the situation. As if he were looking for possible threats and coming up with a way to eliminate them before they could manifest. And even then, everyone seemed to be charmed by the new guy.”
I remembered perfectly how everyone had first gaped at the handsome and stern new addition and then silently nodded in appreciation and awe. Me included at first. I’d never admit it, but back then, I had gotten as far as thinking I could let that deep voice of his lure me to sleep every night, and I’d be content for the rest of my days.
“So, yeah, every single one of my colleagues was pretty much enraptured. Not me though. I wasn’t fooled that easily. All throughout Jeff’s and Aaron’s speeches, I kept thinking about how nervous he must have been. I kept noticing his shoulders inching higher and his gaze growing … unsure. As if he were holding himself from bolting out that door. So, I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t as standoffish as he looked, standing there. He couldn’t be. It was just nerves. One couldn’t possibly give off that vibe on purpose. It was his first day, and that was some intimidating shit. I thought he just needed a little push in the right direction. A little friendly welcome to fall into place.”