I don’t know what time it is, but Alex has been restless ever since he told me about his mom. He’s been tossing and turning, and when I try to come closer, he manages to push me away. Once again, he rolls to his back and flings both arms above his head, releasing a loud sigh. I hesitate before making my move. Rolling over, I push myself up and straddle him.

“You’re agitated,” I tell him. He brings his arms down to hold my hips, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh just above my hipbones. “I’m sorry if I made you angry.”

“I’m not angry,” he says, his voice void of emotion.

I gently rock my hips over his cock and feel it begin to harden beneath me. I want to help him release some of his tension, but he’s resisting. He holds my hips firmly, not allowing me to move on top of him. Leaning forward, I press soft kisses to his chest. I make my way to his neck and nip at the soft skin just above his collarbone. My hands sink into the soft mattress on either side of his head, and he finally relents, dropping his hands from my hips. He moans when I lift myself to allow his cock to stand up. Gently guiding myself onto him, he slides in comfortably and fills me completely. I moan at the sensation of him filling me. Placing both hands on his chest, I guide myself up and down, my pussy clenching his long shaft with each movement. He finally succumbs, and I can feel him begin to relax beneath me. His eyes are dark with desire and he presses his fingers into the soft skin of my waistline.

I rise and fall, my movements quicker and unyielding, his fingertips squeezing me harder. “Need you,” I mumble as my head falls back, his cock brushing against my G spot and taking my breath away.

“What did you say?” he asks as he lifts his hip and drives himself into me.

“I said I need you.”

He stills and closes his eyes for a moment before slowly picking up his pace. The pressure of his pelvic bone against my clit sends me spiraling into an orgasm that has my body trembling. I lean forward on his chest while he slams into me once more with his release, then I lie on top of him, just feeling him—all of him. Silence fills the space between us again, and I can feel his conflict. He holds on to me like he can’t let go, like he’ll die without me. But the pain on his face tells another story, the real story—he can and will live without me. When he finally speaks, his words are strained. “Em, I can’t—”

“I know,” I say, cutting him off. I slide off of him and curl into a ball next to him. His hand rests on my side, and I hear the steady rhythm of his light breaths. A small part of me wants to run, retreat to the safety of the guest room, and guard my heart. But somewhere deep inside of me, another part of me longs for Alex’s love—even if this is all he can give. I will compromise and take what he can give me—even if this is all it ever is.

* * *

I wake up in my own bed, the sunlight crawling across my face. I never closed the curtains last night. I roll over and yelp when I see Alex on the chaise lounge. He’s wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else, and he offers me a tired smile.

“What’re you doing in here?” I pull the sheet up higher over my naked body, even though we’ve seen each other naked several times already. I feel vulnerable with him right there, especially after last night.

“I like watching you sleep. You’re peaceful.” His voice is weak, tired, but he chuckles a little and points at me. “Nothing I haven’t already seen.”

I pull the sheet a little higher, hating the blush creeping across my cheeks. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“A few hours.”

“You should really go get some sleep.”

“I wanted to watch you sleep.”

The whites of his eyes are bloodshot, and dark circles are starting to form underneath. His hair is a disheveled mess—but he still looks perfect to me. He scratches his chest lightly, rolling the crucifix in his fingers.

“Em, when you think about your future, what is it that you see? What do you want?” His face is full of anguish.

I frown and think about it. Last night, he got angry with me, and now he’s asking me this? “That’s a big question for…” I look around for a clock.

“Five thirty in the morning,” he answers. “Tell me.”

I have to think for a moment. “I mean, I think we all have dreams. What we’d like or how we think our lives will turn out, but I also think that ninety-nine percent of the time those realities don’t exist…at least not for me.”

“Why do you say that?” he questions, lacing his fingers behind his head. His face is full of confusion and mixed emotions.

I shrug. “Just my life. I try not to be negative, but when I think things can’t get worse, they usually do.”

He seemed pained by my answer. “So, what do you envision for your future?”

I sigh softly. “I stopped thinking so far ahead a long time ago. I just try to live for today.”

“Em, answer me.” His eyes plead with me. “We all think about where we’ll be in five or ten years.”

Not me. Still, I do dream. I do want. I do. “Sure; I have the same dream every girl has—get married, have kids, live happily ever after. I want to be the mom that mine could never be for me.” I shrug, although I feel the hurt wound tight inside of me. “What do you want?” I need to take the focus off me.

“I’d fucking love all of that,” he says quietly, introspective, then he rubs his tired eyes and leans back against the chaise lounge.

“Then have it,” I tell him. “If you want it bad enough—go get it.”

He turns his head to look at me, but he’s still lost in his thoughts. There are a million questions, a million concerns, running through those dark, tired eyes.

“It doesn’t work that way,” he says.

“Sure it does. If you want something badly enough, you’ll make it happen.”

His shoulders slump with defeat or exhaustion—I’m not sure which. “Come here.”

He pats his lap, and I take the sheet with me, sitting there. Immediately, he snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. Brushing the hair off my shoulders, he runs his fingers across my collarbone and rubs the front of my neck, resting his finger at the base in the hollow. If I had to guess, I would say this is his favorite spot on my body.

“Why are you so beautiful?” he whispers reverently.

“I’m not.” I run my hand up the side of his cheek, feeling the soft hair that sits along his jawline. I cup his cheek, and his head falls into my palm. His eyes soften as my thumb brushes the soft skin just below his eye. “Why are you so handsome?”

He blows a puff of air through his nose and rolls his eyes at me.

“You are. You’re handsome and kind…and—”

“Stop.” He winces.

“No. This is what I see when I’m with you.” He has to know how beautiful he is, how kind it was of him to take me in, even if I was terrified of him that first day.

“You don’t know anything about me, Em. This”—He gestures up and down his body—“is smoke and mirrors. It’s a mask for the evil I am inside.”

I almost laugh. Evil? Why would he think that about himself? “You’re not evil.” I place my hand on his chest, over his heart.

“I am.” Our eyes lock on each other, and behind those amber orbs I see a world of hurt—despair. His thumbs rub circles over my collarbone, and I lean forward, capturing his lips. His soft, warm lips. I press a light kiss, and he kisses me back. “Will you go somewhere with me?”

Anywhere, but I don’t say that. “Sure. Where?”

“Church.”

My eyes must widen until he smirks and runs a finger over my lip. “I go every Sunday, and sometimes a couple times during the week, and for sure on every holy day.”

I nod slowly in surprise. “I’ve never been to church, but I’ll go with you. I need to shower and get ready…”

“You have plenty of time. Mass isn’t until nine. Rosa will have brunch waiting when we get back.” He smiles warmly at me and his mood seems to have turned.

“Okay then. Church it is,” I say with a breathy laugh.

* * *

Three hours later, we’re walking the quiet downtown Phoenix streets. A light breeze makes the air around us feel like an oven. We approach a giant stucco church that sits right in the heart of downtown. It’s old, but beautiful and clearly renovated. Alex reaches for my hand as we take the steep steps to the heavy, oak double doors with large wrought-iron handles. Just inside, Alex dips his finger in a small cup of water secured to the wall and makes the sign of the cross. Then he dips his finger again and makes the sign of the cross on my forehead.

“Holy water,” he says quietly.

He guides me into the church and we find a wooden pew in the back. Before sitting down, Alex pulls down a small, padded bench and kneels, bowing his head. I sit quietly and simply take in the beauty. Large pillars adorn the inside, and stained-glass windows cast a glow over the entire place. The altar is simple, yet elegant, a crucifix hanging prominently behind the altar. Such history here.

Alex remains kneeling in prayer for quite some time, and I observe people of all walks of life filter soundlessly into the church and take their seats. An organ plays a slow, haunting song, and the entire congregation suddenly rises. I stand and Alex slips his hand into mine again. For the next hour, I watch as everyone rises, sits, kneels, and Alex stays with me as everyone leaves to take communion, as he calls it. He’s whispered to me throughout the mass, informing me of what’s happening or what’s about to happen.

I’m oddly at peace here. I talk to my mom and feel like maybe she can hear me, and I pray to God, hoping maybe he’ll hear me too. My hopes are low, seeing as I’ve asked for so little in the past and every prayer has seemingly gone unanswered before.

Alex wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him, and I find myself sinking into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as we listen to the priest give his final prayer. Alex’s body is warm, and I can smell his cologne that I love so much. Between the comfort of his touch and the peacefulness of the place, I feel a sense of contentment pass through me.

“So, what did you think?” Alex asks me as we walk down the steps to the street below.

“It’s weird.” I turn to look at him. “I feel happier.”

He smiles at me. “It does that to you. You leave your troubles, your burdens, in that church and when you walk away, you feel lighter.”

“That’s exactly it. I feel lighter.”

“I want to introduce you to someone,” he says, reaching for my hand. He pulls me through the sea of people that have gathered outside to socialize.

“Father Mark.” He nods at the priest. “I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Emilia. Emilia Adams.”

“Ah, Emilia!” he says excitedly. “Alejandro has told me about you.”

Confused, I look at Alex, then back to the priest. “He has?”

“He has.” He smiles at me. Father Mark adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses and looks between Alex and me.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I tell him, shaking his hand. I’m shocked. Twice now, I’ve been told Alex has mentioned me.

“Likewise.” He nods. “Alex, would you mind if I had a word with you?”

“Sure, Father.” Alex gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ll be just a minute.”

“I’ll just wait over here.” I gesture to a tall tree full of blooming flowers, and Father Mark guides Alex through the crowd. The two men lean into each other and disappear from my sight. I wait in the shade of the tree and people watch. I find myself doing this a lot in Phoenix. At home, everyone looked the same, acted the same—here, it’s eclectic, different.

“I thought that was you,” I hear just as someone touches my arm, catching me off guard.

“Oh my gosh, Sam! You scared me.” I laugh and cover my heart with my hands.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I’ve never seen you here before,” he says as he glances around, his dark brown eyes dancing in the sunrays that peek through the branches of the tree we’re standing under.

“It’s my first time here—actually my first time ever going to church.” I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that.

He furrows his brows like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard anyone say. “Ever?”

“Ever.” I laugh.

“So, what did you think?” He rolls up the sleeves on his white dress shirt and loosens his purple and gray necktie.

“I liked it enough that I’ll probably come back.” I shrug, not wanting to share my true personal story of how it was. I certainly don’t know him well enough for that.

“Good.” He nods, as he nudges my shoulder. “I’m glad I got to see you. I’d ask you to join me for coffee or breakfast, but I have to work today.”

I frown at him. “On a Sunday?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot going on. Some new shit just landed on my desk, and it’s the kind of work that can’t wait for Monday.”

My eyes widen when Sam says “shit” right outside a church. “Well then, you better get to work. Corporate America awaits.” He looks at me funny, but smiles and I add, “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll see you at Café Au Lait sometime, right?”

“I was just going to ask you if you got the job. I take it you did?” He wiggles his eyebrows comically.

I nod, feeling proud, even though it’s just a coffee shop. It’s a step in the right direction, in a new town that I still don’t know. It’s a huge step for me. “I did.”

“Congratulations.” He grins. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow.” Megan asked me to start on Monday so she could train someone else she also just hired this weekend. It’s easier for her to manage training us one at a time.

“Great. Well, then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your day, Emilia.”

“See you tomorrow.” I watch Sam disappear through the now thinning crowd and smile at the little flutter in my stomach. Much like the feeling I get when I see Alex walking back toward me.

“Everything okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah. He just wanted to chat about some things.” He offers me a reassuring smile, but his eyes search the people gathered around us. “Let’s go. Rosa will have brunch waiting for us.” He laces his fingers through mine and guides me back toward the condo.

“So, you’re pretty close to Father Mark?”

“I am. He baptized me as a baby and has given me all my sacraments since.” Sacraments? I’ll ask him later what that means as I have a more pressing thing nagging me. “I was surprised when he said you had mentioned me.”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Part of my penance is to do good for strangers. I mentioned that you had moved in.”

“Ah, see…I’m just a stranger and a good deed.” I nudge him with my shoulder, but my heart hurts at this reference.

“You were,” he admits softly, something deeper in his tone. “You’re more than that now, Em. Funny how that works.”

I’m not sure what he means, but I’m afraid if I ask him to clarify that I won’t like the answer, so I remain quiet and don’t push the conversation any further. Along the way, he points out things of interest—an outdoor air mall, a salon, a small city park, and two college campuses; all tucked together within a few-block radius. I never realized how beautiful and clean downtown Phoenix was until just now.

The condo smells amazing when we return, and it’s amazing how at home I feel here now. For the short time I’ve been here, this feels like home, as scared as that thought still makes me.

I can hear Rosa in the kitchen, humming, and the sounds of pots and pans moving about the stove. She’s not quiet, but she knows how to cook better than anyone I’ve ever met.

“Good morning, Rosa!” Alex says loudly as we come into the kitchen.

Rosa looks up and smiles at Alex. “Mijo, mija. How was church? Did you pray for me?”

“I did, Rosa.” He kisses her sweetly on the cheek.

She laughs and smacks his arm playfully. I love how they are with each other. It says a lot about a man, the way he is with his mother. And even though Alex’s mother is gone, Rosa is somewhat a replacement, a surrogate, in a way.

“Brunch is ready. I’m going to take off.” Rosa continues fluttering about. “Just leave the dishes in the sink, and I’ll take care of them when I get back in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Rosa. It looks amazing.”

“You’re welcome. Eat!” She pinches my hip and scoots around me. Pulling her purse off the counter, she disappears down the hall, and I hear the door close behind her.

Alex begins taking out plates and silverware. “Do you want to eat in the dining room, or in here?”

“Here.” I pat the island. “No need to move everything to the other room.”

There’s a giant bowl of fresh cut fruit, scrambled eggs, bacon, and Belgian waffles.

“Rosa must really like you; she doesn’t cook like this for me.” He winks at me.

“Whatever.” I chuckle. “She treats you like a spoiled little brat,” I tease him as I plate up a waffle and fruit.

“She should. I pay her a small fortune.”

“Have you always had someone cook and clean for you?” I ask, curious.

He thinks for a moment, scooping eggs onto his plate. “Not always. I mean, when my mom was alive, she did all of that. Then, after she died and my dad was building his business, we had someone. She was kind of a nanny, a housekeeper, and a cook all rolled into one. She basically raised me.”

“What happened to her?”

“What do you mean?” He gives me side eyes.

“Where is she now?”

“Oh, she moved back to Mexico. Her mother lived there, and when I graduated from high school, she moved back to take care of her. I think my dad still talks to her now and then.” He shrugs. “So, after I graduated from college and bought this place, I needed someone to help me stay on top of everything, and that’s when I found Rosa.”

“I really like her. She’s spunky.” She’s full of energy and wit, and I find myself smiling every time I’m around her.

He laughed softly. “That’s a word you don’t hear every day, but yeah, she’s pretty amazing.”

“So, what did you get your degree in?” I ask as I smother my waffle in syrup. Undeniably the best part of this entire breakfast is the thick, sweet maple syrup.

“Business with a focus in accounting. I’m a numbers guy.” He smirks. “What about you? Did you ever go to college?”

“I took a few classes at the local community college, but then took some time off to work more. We needed the money more than I needed to take classes.” I long for the day I’ll be able to go back to school and finish my degree. But when you’re faced with keeping a roof over your head and food on the table, making money is your priority.

“Have you thought about going back?” he asks, pouring us both a glass of orange juice.

“I have. I’ll probably look into it once I can save up some money and figure out where I’m going to settle.” I smile.

Something flashes in his eyes, but I can’t tell what. “You don’t think you’ll stay here?”

“I don’t know. Not sure there’s a reason to,” I admit honestly. It’s not like I’ve thought through leaving here, leaving him—whatever this is between us.

He takes a bite of his eggs, a sip of his orange juice, another bite of eggs, and he chews slowly. Finally, he asks me, “Where would you go?” His voice is quiet, as if he didn’t really want to ask the question and doesn’t want the answer.

“I’ve always dreamed of the Pacific Ocean. Maybe Oregon, in a small little town that sits on the edge of the ocean where I can walk the beach and breathe the cool air deep into my lungs.” I smile at the thought. It’s a beautiful picture, even if it never happens.

“Sounds nice,” he says somberly.

“What about you? Ever think of leaving this place?” I wonder if he’d ever leave the only place he’s ever called home.

“What, Arizona? Nah. The business is here. Really can’t go anywhere else.” Despite his words, I see his eyes spark with longing. The mood in the kitchen has suddenly shifted, and we both push the food around our plates. “But Oregon sounds really nice. I bet you’d love it there.” He stands up abruptly and carries his plate to the sink. “I’ll be in the office.”

“Okay. I’m just going to clean up in here.”

He nods at me and starts toward the office, then he stops. “Hey, Em?” My eyes meet his, and his smile is sincere. Somewhat sad, but sincere. “Oregon sounds amazing. If you ever get the chance, go.”

* * *

I twist my long, light brown hair into a messy bun and quickly run some lipstick over my lips. One last glance in the mirror, and I grab my wallet and phone off my nightstand. The house is still quiet, and I wonder what I’ve said or done to make Alex upset with me. He left brunch abruptly yesterday morning, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

It’s early, but Megan wants me there for the morning rush, so I scurry through the streets alongside the businessmen and women bustling to their jobs. As I push through the glass doors, Jax is wiping down a table.

“Good morning,” I say with a big smile. It may sound weird, but I’m excited for today. Working has always been a source of pride for me, and I love staying busy.

“Morning, Emilia.”

My name catches Megan’s attention behind the counter, and she waves me over. “Ready for your first day?”

“I am. I’m excited.” My clenching and unclenching hands prove it.

“Good. Let’s get you settled.” She shows me where I can put my wallet and phone under the counter, then she hands me a tan apron that has “Café Au Lait” printed across the front with a cup of cappuccino underneath it.

“This morning, just to get us through the rush, I’m going to have you plate or bag the baked goods and get any drip coffee that customers order. After the morning rush, I’ll show you how to work the espresso machine and how we make some of our specialty coffees. Jax will handle ringing them up and any cold drink orders. We do have some iced teas and frappuccinos. Does that sound okay?”

I nod, pleased. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’m really excited you’re working with us, Emilia. Brace yourself; it’s about to get crazy.” She laughs just as the front door opens and people start shuffling in.

The next three hours are non-stop madness. I restock the pastry case three different times, and Megan, Jax, and I actually work well together. I sneak out from behind the counter a couple times to wipe down tables and restock the bar with more sugar, creamer, and other condiments. Megan seems pleasantly surprised with my willingness to jump in and make sure things are taken care of.

As the morning rush finally diminishes, Jax and I do a more thorough cleaning of the seating areas.

“You did good this morning, sunshine,” he says.

“Sunshine?” I cock an eyebrow at him and laugh.

“Yeah, you’re always so happy, like the sunshine. It’s my name for you.”

“Well, thanks.” Even though I don’t know him well, the nickname warms me. “We’re a good team.”

“We are. It’s nice to have someone who’s on top of things. I can already tell Megan has a crush on you.” He winks at me.

“She does not,” I say laughingly.

“Em, not ‘that’ kind of crush.” He rolls his eyes as if I’m totally naïve. “You’re kick ass, and she’s happy.”

“Oh.” I laugh out loud. “So, are the mornings always this busy?”

“Always. It’ll quiet down now for a while. We get a few regulars that come in and do meetings, but it’ll pick back up again around lunchtime until three o’clock.”

“I kind of like when it’s busy,” I muse. “You don’t even realize how fast time goes by.”

He nods and whistles a tune to himself. “So, what’s your story? Where are you from? What made you want to work at Café Au Lait?”

Questions like these always fluster me. I’ve never been one to lie, but I’m not ready to lay my sorry life out for others to judge me. “I just moved here from Illinois. My dad lives here. We’re working at reestablishing a relationship.” I shrug, hoping that appeases him, even though it’s not true.

“Cool. So, you’re a student?”

“Not right now. I plan to get back to school once I get settled and save up some money. What about you?” I want to divert the conversation to him.

“Well, Megan’s my sister, and I help her run this place.”

“What? You and Megan are related?” My eyes must bulge in disbelief.

He laughs. “We are. She’s older and smarter and more gravitationally inclined to run a business. I’m younger and more carefree and don’t like long-term commitments.” He points to his curly hair that’s pulled back into a bun and the small gauges in his ears.

“No wonder I didn’t make the connection that you’re related,” I joke with him.

“Ah, I like your snark, sunshine.”

Megan spends some time showing me around the espresso machine, and I make a few practice drinks under her watchful eye. Jax promises to show me how to work the register tomorrow as we finish up the last of our prep work for the next shift. The day passes quickly, and I’m thankful and content at the same time. I expected to see Sam today, but he didn’t stop by. I chastise myself for feeling disappointed, but I was actually hoping to see him.

Hanging up my apron, I collect my wallet and phone from under the counter, then wave goodbye to Megan, who’s in the back room at a tiny desk, doing paperwork and placing orders.

“Thanks again for everything, Jax. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave to him as I step out into the late afternoon sun. Holy hell, it’s hot out here. I notice large clouds forming in the sky to the south over a large mountain range. As I walk the few blocks back to the condo, I keep an eye on the sky and the growing clouds. They’re beautiful and ominous, and I’m absolutely fascinated by them. My mom and I would spend hours watching out the small windows of our trailer the impending thunderstorms that would roll through White Lake each summer. Lost in my memories, I’m shocked to find myself at the entrance to Alex’s condo already.

“Hey, Fred!” I belt out as I walk past him and into a waiting elevator.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Adams,” I hear him reply as the doors to the elevator close behind me.

The condo is quiet. No sign of Rosa, but the bowl of fresh fruit and a freshly baked loaf of what looks like banana bread tells me she was here today.

“Rosa?” I holler, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come. “Alex?” Again, no response.

I pull out my cellphone and type out a quick message to Alex. Minutes pass and still no response. I stand in the living room at the floor-to-ceiling windows and watch the large storm clouds continue to build and move closer. The sky is getting dark, and it reminds me again of how the thunderstorms would roll into town back in Illinois.

I step out onto the patio and watch the shrubs and trees begin to whip violently in the wind. The hot air blasts against my face, and the smell of dust stings my nose. The city ten stories below comes to a standstill as the afternoon storm rolls in. Cars disappear from the streets as the heavy rain falls in buckets. I stand at the edge of the patio looking out, the mountains no longer visible against the grayish brown sky.

“Emilia,” Rosa yells from the patio door. “Get inside here before you get struck by lightning. What is wrong with you, mija?”

I push myself off the brick wall and head back into the house.

Rosa waits with her arms folded across her chest. “When did you get back?”

“Just a few minutes ago. I didn’t think you were here.”

“I had to run to the market.” She points to the grocery bags on the kitchen island.

“Do you want some help?” I ask as I begin nosing through the bags.

“I’d love that.” She perks up, the threat of getting struck by lightning forgotten, although it was nice to be thought of, to be warned. “I have to say, it’s nice to have a girl around here to talk to.”

“It’s nice for me too,” I say, pulling groceries from the reusable shopping bags and setting them on the counter as Rosa begins sorting and putting away. “Have you seen Alex today?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

She glances at me briefly, carrying an armful of fruits and vegetables to the fridge. “Emilia.” I love how my name rolls off her tongue with her thick Mexican accent. She clucks her tongue once in a motherly way. “It’s really none of my business, but I feel like I should let you know that it’s best not to ask questions about Alex’s business.”

“I didn’t ask about his business. I asked if you’d seen him today,” I say calmly. Why do people keep telling me this?

Rosa sighs. “Everything about that boy is his business. Here’s what I can say. He will disappear for hours, days, and sometimes even a week or two. It is expected of us to not ask questions and just carry on. There may be times we see things or hear things, and we cannot let on that we did. We must keep our heads down and our noses in our own business.”

I grit my teeth, growing irritable when she says, “He cares about you, though. If he’s going to be gone, I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

“I’m his roommate. He doesn’t have to tell me anything,” I say sarcastically, immediately feeling bad for my snarky tone.

“You’re more than a roommate. Don’t let these living ‘arrangements’ fool you,” Rosa informs me.

“What do you mean by that?” My heart beats rapidly as Rosa turns to me.

“He’s never let another woman stay in this house. In fact, very few women have spent more than an hour in this house.” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. “You are not just a roommate.”

“Then what am I?” It’s the question of the day, the week, the big, thought-eating question that has haunted me since I met him, really.

She shakes her head at me and blows out a puff of air. “That’s for you two to discuss.”

Fine. Maybe we will. Because I’m tired of wondering.

With that decided, we finish unpacking the groceries in silence, and I go lie down for a bit while Rosa makes dinner. Before I fall asleep, I check my phone one last time in hopes that Alex responded. But he hasn’t.