Under the twinkling strands of light hung over Aba’s porch, I was completely relaxed. I took a long sip of the white wine she had given me. I’d been reprimanded for offering to help with dinner. Tonight I was the honored guest at my farewell supper. Even though my contentment at being here with Roman was more consuming than ever, it had begun to unravel, replaced by a tension that knotted my stomach. It was day six, and I couldn’t ignore the mental calendar block. In a few hours I would be checking it off. I felt cheated. Weeks were seven days long, but tomorrow I would board a plane back to the soggy, gray reality of Washington. Here in Mexico everything felt possible, but I knew that sense of possibility would dissipate the moment I stepped on the plane. How was I supposed to erase the memories of days spent on the beach with him and nights spent in bed, whispering, kissing, and laughing?

Laughter filtered through my thoughts and I turned to see Roman and Aba carrying large bowls toward the outside table. They spoke quickly in Spanish, much too quickly for me to follow what they were saying. But from the joyful looks on both their faces, they felt as happy as I had a few moments ago. A lump formed in my throat and I set down my wine glass, unable to drink it.

“Can I help you with anything?” I asked again, eager to distract myself from the confusion churning inside me.

“No, no, no!” Aba flapped her arms at me, shaking her head. “You sit.”

“Aba doesn’t let guests lift a finger,” Roman added with a smile. “I’m surprised I was allowed to help her.”

“You are a man now. You should be taking care of your lady,” she informed him.

I blushed at being called his lady. The term felt old-fashioned and a little disingenuous considering we’d spent this afternoon tangled naked in bed with one another. Since our agreement, I’d been anything but a lady. Part of me was actually going to miss the total abandon I felt here—with him. Back in Olympic Falls I would be Jess Stone again—good girl, pre-med student, best friend. I yawned at the thought.

Roman’s fingers trailed softly down my bare arm, drawing my attention back to him. “Tired?”

“I had quite the workout today,” I whispered.

“I’d hoped you might be up for a private bon voyage party later,” he admitted with a grin.

I did my best to meet his smile, but failed miserably. Why did he have to bring up the fact that tonight was the end of everything we’d started here? Thankfully, before I could start crying, Aba began ladling food onto my plate. Rice and chicken. Beans and peppers. I had no idea what any of it was called in Spanish, but it all smelled delicious.

I ate until I thought I might burst, laughing until I nearly cried as Aba told me about Roman’s childhood exploits. I howled over a story involving a jellyfish.

“Laughing at my pain? You wound me!” Roman clutched his chest dramatically.

“I’m going to be a doctor, I have to be able to laugh off the pain,” I said, widening my eyes innocently.

“I question your bedside manner.” His fingers knitted through mine.

I arched an eyebrow at the unintended double meaning in his statement, and he turned away unable to keep a straight face.

“You!” Aba pointed at her grandson. The new queen could take a few lessons from her on taking charge. “Take the dishes into the kitchen and let the girls talk.”

“She’s putting you to work, huh?”

“Aba is more interested in you. I can’t say that I blame her.” He released my hand and planted a swift kiss on my lips before standing to gather our dirty plates.

“Women shouldn’t take care of a man’s every need,” Aba told me in a conspiratorial whisper, her accent thick on her tongue. “They go soft.”

As luck would have it, I’d just taken a sip of wine and choked on it, trying not laugh.

“Only in the home,” Aba continued, a sly smile creeping over her lips as she patted my . “A Spanish man does not ever go soft there.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of something to say, but she’d literally stolen my ability to speak.

“Poor American girls. I forget sex is not to speak of in your country.”

“We talk about it,” I admitted. “Just not with people…”

“Who are old as I am?” Aba waved this off with a flutter of her hand and a laugh. “But we old people know so much about it. Most of us have done it more.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Aba leaned forward and placed her hand over mine. Her skin was thin as paper, but the weight of it was comforting. “Roman—he is your boyfriend?”

“I…He’s…” I swallowed but the lump had reformed and was now thoroughly lodged in place. My heartbeat sped up as I considered her question as if the vital organ knew something that I didn’t. It was impossible. We’d been having fun and we both knew the relationship had to end. So why did none of that matter to my heart? “I don’t know.”

Aba’s dark eyes stared at me, reflecting the wisdom that came with her age. It was something I felt lacking in myself, especially this week when every decision I made seemed to feel so wrong and so right at the same time. “You do.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” I said quickly. “Roman and I—we can’t be together. It’s not allowed.”

“By who?” she asked with a snort. “Love is love. It’s not to be allowed. It only happens.”

Things hadn’t gotten that far. Not yet. But we were dangerously close. I felt like I was holding it at bay, because love was not in the cards for us. We’d crashed into each other as recklessly as we’d crashed into bed. It was something I couldn’t take back, which made the fact that I was leaving tomorrow all that much harder to bear. “I wish we could be together. I really do, but I’m a student and he’s a teacher.”

“He’s not your teacher,” she said. They’d obviously discussed this in my absence.

“Not anymore,” I said slowly, but shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. There are rules.”

“The heart cares not for rules.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked at me as though daring me to challenge her on this.

“No, it doesn’t,” I whispered. I knew she was right. No matter how much I tried to deny the fact I had fallen for Roman Markson.

She stood and gathered the remaining bowls from the table. “You will be together.”

With that proclamation, she disappeared in a swirl of brightly colored skirts back to the kitchen before I could respond. Before I could tell her that was impossible.