Page 67 of Back to You
The room was too quiet. That was the first thing I noticed as I stepped inside. The usual hum of machines was still there, the steady beeping of the monitors keeping rhythm in the background. But the sound that used to make me feel safe, the sound of my mother’s voice filling the space, talking, teasing, scolding, laughing, was softer now, thinner. I hated that.
She looked up when I walked in, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Ah,” she murmured, her voice raspier than usual. “Mi amor.”
I swallowed against the tightness in my throat and lifted the bouquet of lilies in my hand. “They didn’t have flor de maga,” I said, stepping toward her bed. “But these aren’t bad, right?”
She hummed in approval. “These are beautiful. Thank you, mi amorcito.”
“I know flor de magas reminds you of home.”
“They do. But now these… these will remind me of you.”
I smiled, setting the flowers in the vase by her bedside. “I’ll go somewhere else next time and make sure I find the flor de magas.”
She let out a soft laugh. “My sweet, stubborn girl.”
It was easier to focus on arranging the flowers than to look at her too closely. She was tired, more than last time. Her skin was paler, her frame even smaller beneath the blankets.
I wasn’t stupid; I knew what was coming. I just wasn’t ready for it. I sat in the chair beside her bed, pressing my hands between my knees to keep them from shaking.
She reached for my wrist, her grip weak but warm. She always did that. Held onto me, even when she was the one barely holding it together. She held me. Used what little strength she had for me.
“You look like your mind is running a mile a minute,” she observed.
I let out a slow breath. “Just thinking.”
Her eyes twinkled with something familiar. Something amused. “About my Sebastián?”
I groaned. “Why do you call him that?”
She chuckled, but her fingers squeezed mine lightly. “Because I’ve known that boy since before he could walk. He’s always been one of mine.”
Something about that sentence made my chest ache. Because she was right. Sebastian had always been hers. And in some ways, he had always been mine too.
Since we were kids. Anna, Sebastian, and I were known as the three musketeers. Running around, causing chaos, creating our own adventures in our little town.
Anna and I would force Sebastian to learn dance routines and perform them in front of our parents. We were all best friends. Anna was like my sister.
But Sebastian and I? We had always felt… connected. Two parts of a whole.
“He’s treating you well, right?” she asked, watching me closely.
I nodded. “Of course he is.”
“And you’re happy?”
That made my throat tighten. Because the answer was a resounding yes. I am. So. Damn. Happy.
But happiness has never been the problem. Sebastian had always known how to make me happy. She must’ve seen the hesitation in my face because she exhaled, shifting slightly in the bed.
“Mariana…”
I didn’t like the way she said my name. Like she already knew. Like she saw the doubt creeping into my chest before I even spoke it out loud.
“You don’t have to protect yourself from love, mi vida,” she said, her voice softer now.
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
She just gave me a look. The sort of look only a mother could give. The type of look that said she saw through every lie I was telling myself. She always knew.
