Page 75 of Outspoken

Patty speaks fluent Spanish, so we both laugh.

“See you tomorrow morning,” Patty says as she leaves.

I return to the couch, collapsing with a big sigh. I’ll shower soon. Maybe I need to sit here and mope, which is all I’ve been doing since Rico’s party over a week ago. Even at work, I’ve been dragging so much that my clients are concerned. Brody knows something is up between Amber and me, though we haven’t discussed it. I don't think he knows the details, but I've caught him glaring at me, and he’s a little more curt in our normal convos.

He hasn't pounded me yet, but I know I deserve it.

What was I thinking?

The short-haired white cat that won my mom’s heart saunters into the living room, jumping onto Mom's lap and purring. The silly thing had been hanging around the backyard for months because Mom left food and water out. It slipped through the door a few days ago and decided to move in rent-free. Mom loves it, so I don't have the heart to kick it out—I can only politely encourage it to leave. If it stays much longer, guess I'll take it to the vet to see if it needs anything. I have no idea how to care for a cat.

The cat rubs its head against Mom's cheek. “She's a precious angel,” Mom says. “Don't break my heart and make her leave.”

“I won't. You sure it's a girl?”

“Yes. No huevos.”

I half-smile, scratching the cat's back, which gets me a sleepy-eyed glance. Then I focus on the cartoon.

Mom nudges me with her elbow. “Any message from tu futura esposa?”

“No.”

I haven't found the nerve to message Amber. I know I messed up, and I really need to give her some space this time.

Past Miguel would've been banging on her door, sending gifts, and texting at all hours of the day. I did those things to women in the past and now completely regret it. Those actions always made things worse. Back then, I tried to play it off, telling myself that it was okay to express my emotions—what's wrong with sharing how you feel?

Well, it’s wrong when I’m pressuring someone and not respecting their space.

Why did I act that way? I know I push for love, and I knew it back then, but it’s like I’m actuallyseeingit this time.

I saw it in Amber’s eyes—the hurt I caused by sharing too much with my family, being too intense and then acting too different, and not telling Amber sooner about our past. Her sadness cut right through all of my bullshit and struck my core. I’m a stupid fool.

Brody was fucking right and I didn’t listen. Amber is also right—maybe my strong feelings aren’t love. I do care for her, but am I really just some white knight? The idea of that is a heavy weight on my shoulders, and I’m unbelievably pissed at myself. The night we first met was so long ago that maybe the memories are hazy.

No—I'm doubting a lot of things, but I'm not trying to 'save' her. My interest in her is still genuine and comes from a spark that started the moment I saw her.

I lean back on the couch and cover my eyes with a forearm to block out the ceiling light.

Paige said she'd try to talk with Amber, but Paige is also on thin ice. Amber told her it was because she was conspiring with me. She also locked Brody out. Basically, she has walled herself off, only going to school and work and then hiding in her room.

Paige and Brody are worried. I'm worried. I'm confident she'll come around for them soon, but I think I got myself locked out for good.

It's the worst I've ever felt about a breakup. Not that we were dating, but there’s an emptiness in my heart. I don't know what I was expecting, playing games, just like she said.

I need to change. I don’t want to be so desperate for a family that I run over women. Above everything, I’m really seeking my soulmate. I crave a soulmate to share deep, everlasting love with.

That will never happen if I’m this intense in every relationship, not allowing time for love to blossom naturally. But how do I stop?

Mom shoos the cat away. “Come here, mi cielito,” she says, trying to get me to lay my head in her lap.

I smile. “I'm a bit old for that.”

“Hush. You're not too old. Come here.”

Giving in, I slide down the couch so I can rest my head on her bony knees while she pats my unwashed hair.

“Better?” she asks.

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