Page 74 of Hate That Blooms

I look up at him, a tight knot in my chest loosening just a little. I nod, trying to swallow the uncertainty that’s been sitting in the pit of my stomach. He’s right, I know.

“Okay,” I say, finally letting go of my worry. “I’ll think about it some more. But yeah, I think the IUD will be the way to go. I just need to be sure.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “Take all the time you need,amor. You know that I’m going to support you in whatever choice you make.”

* * *

Dinner is almost ready, and I start to set the table, pulling out bowls and utensils. Joaquín works with quiet efficiency, moving around me as we settle into our familiar rhythm. It’s these small moments that make everything feel real. Like we’re building something—something strong, something lasting. But it’s not just about us. It’s about Mireya too.

As I finish setting the table, I hear the soft padding of little feet behind me. Mireya. She comes into the kitchen, her big brown eyes wide and alert, her hair still a little messy from her nap. She reaches up for me, her tiny arms outstretched. I scoop her up immediately, the warmth of her against me grounding me in the moment.

“Dinner’s ready,mi amor,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s eat.”

She rests her head against my shoulder, and for a brief moment, I can feel the weight of her love, the way she trusts me, the way she’s always been my everything. But there’s something new, something different, in the air tonight.

After dinner, I give Mireya a bath and then start the bedtime routine. She’s already in her pajamas, her favorite green ones with little dinosaurs on them. She climbs into bed eagerly, waiting for us to tuck her in.

“Papa, Mama, story?” she asks, her voice soft but insistent. My heart skips at the sound of those words—MamaandPapa. Joaquín stands there frozen, hearing her say it hits him hard.

“Did you just call mePapa, Princesa?” His words come out tight, like he’s choking back his emotions.

She nods.

I can’t help the tears that escape. This is everything. Mireya has a mom and a dad that love her, and even though she is my sister by genetics, she is my daughter. Joaquín acknowledges that she sees him as her father.

It’s like a sudden vision of what could be. Of us together, as a family. Not just a couple, but afamily. The idea settles over me, heavy and warm.

I glance at Joaquín, and for a second, our eyes meet in that way that feels like we’re on the same page, even though we haven’t spoken a word. He looks at Mireya, then at me, and I can see his thoughts lining up with mine.

“We’ll read,mijita,” Joaquín says, his voice steady. “But you’ve got to go to sleep after, okay?”

Mireya nods solemnly, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. I sit on the edge of the bed while Joaquín grabs the book. The three of us are together in that small room, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a peaceful light over us. Joaquín reads the story aloud, his voice deep and calming. Mireya drifts off halfway through, her breathing slow and even as she falls into sleep.

I look at Joaquín, my chest tight with something I can’t quite name. It’s a mix of love, hope, and an overwhelming sense of everything we’ve built together. We’re so close, so good, and the idea of adding more to our little world suddenly doesn’t feel so crazy. The warmth of the moment—the closeness of it, the little family we’ve become—makes me ache for something more.

But not yet. Not yet.

I take a deep breath, pushing the thought to the back of my mind. We’ve got time. I’m not ready. Not yet.

Despite that, as we turn out the light and close her door, I can’t help but wonder if one day we will.

Chapter47

Joaquín

Meet me in study room three at the back of the library in five minutes.

Iwatch Gabriela check her phone from the second-floor balcony of the library. She flips her phone over on her lap and looks around her. Searching for me. I sent off another text.

Qué jodidamente bonita es mi reina. Solo pensar en lo bien que sabes me tiene tan listo para ti. (How fucking pretty my queen is. Just thinking about how good you taste has me so ready for you.)

We can’t.

I sigh. My woman does not even know the beginning of what I would do to her in public, without a care in the world of what other people think.

We can. Two minutes, Reina.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I take the back stairs that end up right near the private study rooms. I keep the light off and wait for her to show up.Come on baby, live a little.

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