Page 169 of All at Once

Driving along the coast listening to arguably one of the most iconic summer songs as Luca and I belt the chorus to each other feels pretty surreal.

The reminder of all the years I used to sing this song alone in my car while driving by the beach comes rushing back to me. And now that it’s with myboyfriend, the song has never soundedbetter.

When it ends, he says, “I think we have time for one more song. There’s one I want to show you. It’s also on this playlist.”

I reach for his phone with butterflies filling my stomach, noting how this is the first time a guy has ever told me that he wants to share a song with me. Knowing Luca is aware of how much music means to me and how much I know it also means to him makes the gesture all the more meaningful.

“What’s it called?” I ask.

“‘La Gata Bajo la Lluvia,’” he replies with a warm grin. “It was originally sung by the late Spanish singer Rocío Dúrcal. It’s my mom’s favorite song, and I think you’ll really like it. My playlist has a cover of the song by another Spanish singer. Her name’s Ana Mena.”

Not sure why his words strike a chord with me except for the fact that he included his mom in his recommendation. And that somehow makes my smile ten times wider.

“Found it,” I say.

Then the mostmelodicguitar strums fill the car.

Closing my eyes in the bliss of this moment feels like hearing a song that you’ve definitely heard at some point in your life when in reality you’ve never even heard asecondof it. The melody of the verses flows like the calmest ocean waves into the chorus. Something about the song makes it seem as if I’m floating near the shallow end of the sea. With the opening guitar strums luring me into the water. As I float during the harmony of the chorus. Until the final soothing notes bring me back to the shore.

Opening my eyes, a tear falls down my cheeks as the melody fades away, reliving my entire experience in Spain through the duration of that song, all the beautiful ups and downs that led me to thisentrancing moment.

“So?” Luca asks. “What did you think?”

“It’s a nice song,” I say quietly.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” I reply, trying to quickly sniffle away the water running down my nose to remove any traces of my tears.

“Jasmine,” he says, clearly not buying it.

I press my fingers across my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me here. I don’t usually cry this much.” Something about getting a taste of what I always wanted but worrying about the near inevitability of losing it is starting to freak me out.

“Why are you apologizing?” Luca replies. He brushes his fingers over my shoulder as I immediately hold onto his hand. “Based off the music that you shared with me, I thought you’d likethis one. It has that ethereal sound that I’ve noticed you like in a lot of songs.”

And that’s exactly why I loved it the second I heard the first note.

It’s not just about the song. It’s the fact that he noticeseverything. Not just the important, obvious things. But the equally meaninglesslittlethings. No, he doesn’t just notice them. Hecaresfor things I care about too.

I say what my tears stopped me from revealing a second ago, “Everything about it was perfect. I was actually picturing us slow dancing to it by the bar.”

The same bar at the resort where I spilled my guts to him accidentally. The one where we had our first date. And the one I passed by that first night hoping I’d experience even a trace of what I now have.

“I’ve never felt this understood before. It’s nice,” I continue, offering the whole smile I’m able to form as another tear lands on my face. “And Ilovedthe song.”

He lifts my hand that was holding onto his before moving it near his lips, pressing such a gentle kiss that makes my heart ache. “I’m glad you liked it.” He smiles. “I have a confession to make. You’ve reminded mewhyI like so many things.”

Oh.

For once, there’s no need to overthink anything. I say the first thought that comes to mind, “You reminded me why I didn’t give up on what I always wanted.”

As I run my fingers through the golden strands that were never my intention to let go of, my stomach drops when we reach the airport’s entrance. And even more when we quickly find parking.

That means saying goodbye sooner. Any minute longer would make a world’s difference to me.

_________

Too distracted by the realization that I’ve been trying to avoid these past few days, Luca thankfully has enough strength for the both of us. As he helps check in my luggage, I continue to blankly stare into oblivion while holding onto my carry-on.

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