Page 57 of Back to You
His arms tightened around me, and for a while, I let myself get lost in his warmth, in the steady rise and fall of his breath, in the way his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against my skin.
But then, before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out. “I don’t get it.”
Sebastian shifted slightly, looking up at me, his brows drawing together. “Don’t get what?”
I exhaled, staring up at his face, “How you do it.”
His fingers brushed along my side. “Do what, hermosa?”
I swallowed. “How you love me like this. In the morning, I wake up a mess. Some days, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without picking apart every single thing that’s wrong with me. By the afternoon, I swear I will convince myself I don’t need anyone, that I can handle everything alone.”
My voice wavers, and I hate it. “Sometimes I get mean, frustrated with my body, frustrated with everything. Sometimes, I push people away. I’m stubborn when I shouldn’t be, complicated when it would be so much easier not to be—and you’re still here.”
Sebastian exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Mariana.” His voice was calm, sure, completely, utterly certain. “It’s not a choice. It’s not something I have to think about. It just is.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest too tight, my ribs aching under the weight of all the things I wanted to believe. “Even when I’m impossible?” I whispered.
His hand slid up my jaw, tilting my face toward his, his thumb brushing along my cheekbone. His gaze burned into mine, so full of love I might drown in it. “Especially then. Eres mi reina, Mariana. Mi corazon. Mi hogar.”
CHAPTER 23
Mariana
The night started with a bottle of wine, an ungodly amount of fries, and a little bit of chaos. Anna had texted me earlier in the day: “You owe me a night of drinking and chisme. I don’t make the rules.”
I’d laughed at my phone before replying, “Fine. Bring wine. No rules.”
And now here we were, two glasses deep, sprawled on my couch, a mess of takeout containers spread out on the coffee table. The living room was warm and cozy, the scent of vanilla candles mixing with the salty aroma of fries and the rich tang of red wine.
Anna tucked her legs under her, holding her glass. “Okay, but real talk,” she said, eyes sharp, ready for all the bochinche she could get. “How the hell did we get here? Because a few months ago, you swore up and down that you guys were ‘so in the past,’ and now you’re taking boat rides under the moonlight?”
I groaned, sinking back against the couch. “It’s not that dramatic.”
Anna made a high-pitched noise, “Are you serious? Sebastian freaking Garcia? The love of your life? The boy you would have married if you didn’t move? Who, by the way, has beenhopelessly in love with you since forever—probably before that, to be honest.” She waved her wine glass, nearly sloshing it on the couch. “That’s the definition of dramatic.”
I sighed, tilting my head back. “It’s different now.”
Anna narrowed her eyes. “Different how?”
I hesitated. The words sat at the back of my throat, tangled between fear and truth. “Because I’m different now.”
She didn’t argue or push. She just gave me the space to be; she knew me well enough to understand that the weight of those words was real, that I didn’t need prodding—just presence.
I took another sip of wine, rolling the glass between my hands. “I spent so long thinking I had to do everything alone. Even when I was with Andrew, I never felt like it was a true partnership. And after Andrew, I thought that I was better off alone, that if I let someone in and leaned on them, it would mean I was weak.” I let out a soft laugh. “But Sebastian never makes me feel weak. He makes me feel like…”
Anna leaned in, waiting.
I swallowed. “Like it’s safe to want something again.”
Her face softened. “Damn. That was beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”
She grinned, but before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Anna shot me a look. “You expecting someone?”
I frowned. “No.”
I got up, padded toward the front of the door, and when I swung it open, Analyse stood on the other side, holding two bottles of wine in the air, one in each hand.
