Page 64 of Winning Match
These silk skirts and delicate summer dresses are irreplaceable. They’re sentimental and significant. They belong to Marlowe’s family history. Another type of legacy.
“Lo siento muchísimo,” I apologize, wrapping my arms around her. I bundle her frame and the slivers of silk she clings to in my arms and pull her into my lap. She cries harder, the pent-up emotions of the past few weeks, maybe even the past few years, spilling out as if a dam has been broken.
As if all the emotions she’s been tucking away for years woke up at the same time.
I kiss her hair, whispering apologies she won’t understand into her ear. “De verdad, lo siento con todo mi corazón. Perdóname.” Truly, I am sorry with all my heart. Forgive me.
But I will never forgive myself for allowing this to happen to Marlowe.
I will not forgive nor forget.
And as my heart breaks from the agonized cries of her pain, I vow to make this right.
Ramón and Luis are already in the flat, with backup on the way, when Luca tears through the place. “What the hell happened?” His holler pulls me from my thoughts.
He and Bianca appear in the hallway and take in a hunched-over, sobbing Marlowe.
Immediately, Bianca is on the other side of her friend, brushing her hair back from her face, asking urgent questions.
I meet Luca’s eyes and in twenty seconds we’ve come to the same conclusion. The girls need to move. Tonight.
I squat in front of her, one hand in hers, the other planted on her thigh. But my touch doesn’t keep her with me. No, Marlowe looks through me, her mind stuck on memories.
I stare into her eyes, puffy from crying, and say slowly, “You’re moving in with me.”
The command jolts her and a flicker of awareness ripples over her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes for no reason. “Can you repeat that?”
“Someone broke into your apartment, Marlowe. I’m moving you in with me, tonight. Bianca is going to stay at her brother’s place for a bit. Just until we get this sorted. Get a handle on it,” I explain, keeping my voice as even as possible.
“That will blur the lines,” she murmurs practically. “It will make things confusing for your family, for our friends, for?—”
“I don’t care,” I cut her off. “I don’t care about anything except your safety, Marli. I want you protected.” My words are desperate, a plea for her to understand. “I can’t get on the plane tomorrow and leave you here.”
She gasps, her hand flying to her throat. “Alejandro, you have to. You have training camp. You have responsibilities and commitments to your team?—”
“To you. I have a responsibility and a commitment to you, Marlowe. And not because of some deal. Not because of our arrangement,” I hiss, lowering my voice so Luca and Bianca don’t overhear us. “Or an image we’re projecting. But because I care about you. You are…” I sputter for the right words. For words significant enough to encompass what I feel for Marlowe, what I’m feeling right now. The confusion, the need, the goddamn rage over this situation.
“Your friend,” she supplies.
It’s fucking inadequate. A surface-level word that hardly hits on the depth of my feelings for her. But given the situation, I nod. “Come home with me, please. We’ll pack a bag, enough for you to spend the week. My housekeeper will be by to clean and cook so you won’t be alone. I’m sure my mom and Abuela will pass by for coffee. Please, Marli,” I practically beg.
She stares at me for a long moment before nodding. “I’ll come with you. I…” She drops her face, blushing.
“Tell me.” I caress her thigh until she looks up.
“I’m scared to stay here.” Her voice cracks and her eyes swell with tears. “How pathetic is that?”
“Not pathetic at all. That’s a smart, sensible reaction.” I lean forward to kiss her forehead. When my lips press against her skin, her eyes flutter closed.
I close my eyes and drop my forehead to hers, breathing in the scent of her—jasmine and summer breeze. Relief snakes through my limbs that she’s agreed to move in with me.
I feel shaky and raw, which must be a shadow of the emotions coursing through her veins.
“The police are here,” Luca says from the doorway, knocking gently against the trim.
I pull away from Marlowe and her eyes open. Luca gives her a once-over.
“You okay, Mar?” he asks.
