Page 37 of Back to You
Normally, I’d be up for the challenge. Today, I’m playing like complete shit. Every shot I take is off—too much force, not enough aim.
My focus is scattered, my movements sluggish. It’s like my body is here, but my mind is somewhere else entirely—and I know exactly where; cliff diving with Mariana wrecked me. Not just because she actually jumped, though that alone was wild, but because of the way she looked at me afterward.
The way she held onto my hand—like she trusted me more than anything. The way she surfaced from the water, tears mixing with the river, looking at me like she wanted to say something real. Something important. But she didn’t, and that silence? That’s what’s been eating me alive.
I don’t know what she was thinking. I don’t know if she was crying because she was overwhelmed, or because she was hurting, or because she was feeling something for me that she didn’t want to admit.
But I know one thing for sure—Mariana doesn’t cry easily. When she does, it wrecks me every damn time.
Lucia is sick. Seriously sick. I know that’s weighing on her, suffocating her. It kills me, and I know it’s killing her too. Lucia has been in my life since before I could remember.
She’s always been this force—warm and strong, fierce in her love. She took care of Anna and me like we were hers, and when Mariana and I started dating, it felt like fate.
Now, all I can do is watch from the sidelines as the one person who has always been Mariana’s rock is slipping away. I hate it.
I also can’t shake this feeling that there’s more—something deeper, something she hasn’t said, something about her husband. She’s never told me the details, but I know in my gut that something happened before he died. I can feel it, and I swear to God, if that man were alive, I’d be beating the shit out of him right now.
I don’t need to know what he did to know he fucked up. I can see it in the way Mariana carries herself—how guarded she is, how much of herself she holds back. I can feel it in the way she hesitates, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, like she’s still bracing for impact even though the worst has already come and gone.
She needs to feel safe, she needs to know that she can trust me—and I meant what I said, I’ll be there. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.
Mateo throws the ball over to me, breaking me free of my thoughts. I catch it, dribbling between my legs, the ball hitting the asphalt with a sharp, steady rhythm.
Cap is guarding me, a solid wall of muscle and experience, and I know there’s no way I’m getting around him. I fake a drive, then pivot, making a move to pass to Mateo, but Cap sees it coming. The second I go airborne for the pass, he jumps too, slapping the ball clean out of my hands.
“Damn it,” I mutter, already moving to chase it down, but Cap is too fast. He grabs it and sprints toward the basket like he’s got rockets strapped to his feet.
Mateo is right on his tail, but Cap fakes left, pulls back, and crosses over so damn smoothly, it’s like watching a highlight reel.
“Shit!” Mateo yells, and at the same time, Andres laughs, “Ohhhh!”
Cap doesn’t even look at me as he sets up for a clean jump shot. Swish. Game over.
Mateo groans, doubling over with his hands on his knees. “Bro, you’re built different.”
Cap smirks, wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. “You guys just need to step it up.”
I exhale hard, hands on my hips, my breath still coming too fast. I should care that we lost. I should be annoyed, talking shit, demanding a rematch. But I can’t bring myself to care, because my head is still with her.
We collapse onto the grass under a tree, gulping down water, trying to cool off. The air smells like sun-warmed earth and freshly cut grass, the distant sounds of kids playing and car engines humming somewhere down the street.
Andres tosses me a water bottle, but I react too late, and it smacks me in the chest before I finally grab it.
Andres eyes me. “Alright, what the hell is up with you today?”
I twist the cap off and take a long drink, trying to buy myself a second before answering. “What are you talking about?”
Andres scoffs. “Oh, here we go. You’re really gonna sit there and act clueless?”
Cap watches me carefully now, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious. “Everything good? Something up with Maya or Analyse?”
That gets Mateo’s attention too; they all know I’d drop everything for my sister and niece in a heartbeat.
I shake my head. “No, Maya and Lyse are fine.” I sigh, running a hand over my face. “It’s Mariana.”
Mateo immediately grins, like he just won some kind of bet. “Knew it.”
I frown. “What?”
