It’s later than usual as I pull onto my street. I’ve been in a meeting with my father all evening and I’m exhausted. This week has been one of the most difficult of my life. One of our projects is seriously over budget because our lead has missed days of work, which cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars each time. My father’s recuperating, but he’s still very weak and my mother’s been a nightmare. And then, there’s Lucía.

I need to figure out what I’m going to do make things right with her.

I pull into my driveway, tired but resolved. I’m heading back out as soon as I change. After our confrontation, I called, texted and emailed Lucía every day. I even went by her house once to see if I could get her to talk to me. She wouldn’t speak to me or see me. Not that I blame her.

The conversation we had last time I saw her got out of control so fast.

I think back to that night and how angry I was on the drive to her house. I thought maybe Fabienne gave her the story. The scenario I imagined ended with her confessing to misleading me. These thoughts, played over and over again in my head and were fuel for my anger.

And in one sentence, she blew that all to bits. Her brother. I’d sent him to jail.

It took me years to get to a place where I could forgive myself after finding out what I’d done.

When the police asked me to come in, I didn’t think twice about it. When I picked her brother out of the lineup, he was just the guy I’d seen the night before. I thought I’d done something heroic. But, I hadn’t. Not only did my actions cause the police to halt an investigation that left a real rapist out on the streets, they ruined an entire family.

My guilt has always been overwhelming. The foundation, the legal defense fund, and the advocacy made me feel like I was making a difference. But, Lucía brought the real-life consequences into sharp relief in a way it hadn’t been before. Seeing the living, breathing consequences of my actions has been nearly debilitating.

Now, I don’t know how to look at her and ask her to forgive me for something so utterly unforgivable.

I told her I was developing feelings for her that night. I didn’t even know the half of it. This week, after coming so close to losing her, I know that what I feel is real. The thought that I might have to let her go terrifies me. If she can’t stomach the thought of being with me, I won’t have a choice. But I’m going to fight with every ounce of strength I have. I’ve never been so sure about my feelings for someone as I am with Lucia.

I know she’s in town. I heard she was at the office, but I couldn’t risk approaching her there. I didn’t know if she’d ignore me or throw things at me. They have a big day on Wednesday, I don’t want to be the reason that she’s distracted or upset. So, I’ve left her alone.

I was starting to feel like a stalker. So tonight, I confided in my father. He knew something was off. I hadn’t planned on telling any of it, but when he asked, the story poured out me.

He listened, he even took a few notes. When I was done, he’d said, “Reece, it’s not going to be easy.”

I’d agreed with him, “Yeah . . . I don’t know if she’ll even give me a chance to explain.”

He shook his head at me and said, “That’s not what I mean. That, son, will be the easiest part of this. She’ll talk to you. She’ll understand that you made a mistake. But once you’re together, that’s when things will become hard. You’re going to get a lot of press attention and for someone like her, that’s very risky. What are you going to do about her status? You can’t marry her. She can’t travel. She can’t drive. If you did get married, she could be deported at any time and then what would you do?”

I’d forgotten that my father was a pragmatist. He’s more laid-back than my mother, but he’s very rarely emotional about things. I should have known he’d say the equivalent of “So what if you love her?”

When he meets her, he’ll understand. He’ll love her. He won’t have a choice. She’s special. The bright, shiny goodness that lives inside her is obvious the instant you meet her. And courage is her super power. She feels fear, but never lets it stop her.

My father’s declarations of doom felt damning. And I didn’t have any answers for him. But I’m certain that if I can get her to forgive me, we can handle anything else life throws at us. I’m going to convince her of that. Tonight. I want a chance. I pray she’ll give me one.

I hop out of my car, new purpose lengthening my stride. As I approach my front door, my steps falter.

She’s there. Sitting on my doorstep illuminated by the security light. I can see the highlights in her dark, chocolate colored hair as it spills down her shoulders. Her lips are painted that red I’ve been seeing in my sleep. She’s wearing a pair of tiny white shorts and a black tank top, and she’s got a sweater bunched up in her lap. Her toes flex and arch in her red flip-flops as she watches me approach.

She tips her face up and looks at me. Her eyes are clear, and angry.

Shit.

“Do you want to come in?”

In what I take as a good sign, she accepts my proffered hand. I let her walk ahead of me into the house.

I hit the switch on the panel to the left of the door and the whole house comes to life. So does Lucía. She whirls on me, her hair still moving even after she’s stopped. Her eyes dart around the house, taking it in.

“We need to talk, Reece. It’s long overdue.” Her eyes finally land on me and I can see the anxiety in them. “You look terrible. Did you stop shaving?”

I laugh in disbelief. That’s the last thing I was expecting to hear. After a week of holding my breath, of thinking that we’d gone past the point of no return, her observation, so casual and familiar, makes me inexplicably angry.

I take a step toward her. My eyes narrowing as hers widen in surprise.

“We had an epic confrontation last week. I called you, texted you, emailed, stood outside your house for days.” She looks down.

“You ignored me. I understood why. I decided to give you your space, because you clearly needed it. And no, I haven’t been shaving. I’ve been a little preoccupied,” I snap at her.

She takes a step back at my raised voice, but she looks concerned and says, “Is your dad okay? Is it working?”

“Lucía, am I in the Twilight Zone?” I ask her incredulously.

“What do you mean?” she asks sounding genuinely perplexed.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not slightly psychotic,” I say, frustration now mingling with my confusion. I lean in close to her face, so she can see my eyes. “You threw me out of your house last week. You’ve basically gone into hiding to avoid me. And now, suddenly, you’re here saying our talk is overdue and asking what’s wrong. Luc, it’s not my dad that has me stressed the fuck out. It’s you.”

She starts to respond and then seems to think better of it. I can hear her counting to ten under her breath.

Fuck, I’ve missed her. I want to stop talking and kiss that plump bottom lip of hers.

She sighs and looks down at her hands.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I was avoiding you. I didn’t know what to say. We both dropped bombs on each other. Mine was a grenade, yours was nuclear. I had to think. I needed to process . . .” She looks up at me through her lashes, a tear dangling from the tip and I feel her pain deep in my gut. It has been a lot. Almost, too much.

A lot was said the other night. And even though I don’t understand where this change of heart has come from, I’m glad. I’d hoped she would get here eventually. I prayed that her reaction was driven by surprise and hurt, but that she’d see her way to at least talking to me. It happened faster than I expected and apparently without any help from me.

“I told you how I felt before everything went crazy. My feelings are unchanged.” She’s still looking at her hands. “I understood your reaction the other night. I even welcomed it, felt like I deserved it. Do you feel differently now?”

Her eyes come slowly to mine, she looks unbearably sad.

“Yes. I feel differently. I . . . won’t apologize for my reaction the night you told me. It was like . . . a tsunami of pain and anger overtook me. I couldn’t control it, Reece. Everything hurt so much. All at once.” She wraps her arms around herself like she’s cold. I want to pull her to me and be the one to comfort her.

“But, I’ve had time to think and I talked to my mother.”

My stomach drops. Her mother. I’d forgotten she has other family members I’ll have to face. She’s not looking at me as she speaks, her eyes seem glued to her feet. But, I’m watching her. I can see that she’s struggling to keep her composure. She amazes me.

“The other night was intense. But, Reece, what happened all of those years ago to Julian; I know it wasn’t your fault.” My chest tightens at the mention of his name.

She raises her head to look me. Her eyes burn with regret. I know they mirror my own.

“I needed someone to show me the way, because I was stuck in a bad place. I loved Julian so much. His death changed my life in so many ways.” She shivers slightly, but doesn’t look away.

“He committed suicide.”

All of the air leaves my lungs. I didn’t know.

“My mother tells everyone he died in a fight. We’re Catholic,” she says, knowing that I need no further explanation. “To me, the method wasn’t a factor. He was gone. And suddenly my whole world was destroyed. My family . . .” She chokes on a sob and I pull her to me. Keeping her at a distance is no longer an option. I can’t stand there and watch her in pain and not respond. She wraps her arms around my waist and holds on while she cries.

“My brother, Reece . . . my heart . . . it broke when he died,” she says in a near moan. She seems to be reliving it all again, right now. Her shoulders shake and I can feel the pain radiating from her. Like a living thing, it seeps from her into me. Her sobs quiet, but she stays burrowed in my chest.

“I’ll never get over him being gone, Reece. Never. I didn’t even know what it meant to miss someone until he was gone. My parents, it broke them. Broke my family. My dad . . .” She sniffles. “And when he left, my mother was so angry. She cursed him. She cursed my brother. And she stopped being my mother,” she mumbles quietly. I don’t know what to say to comfort her.

I have so many questions. Where is her mother now? How did someone who had such a hard beginning, turn her life into something so beautiful? How did she learn to live so freely, live so fully?

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry . . .” she says as she pulls her arms from around my waist and steps back, putting several feet of distance between us.

My arms scream for her to come back, but I try to give her space.

“Please, Lucía. Don’t apologize . . .” I say, my voice thick with emotion. This week has been hell, and for the first time since this nightmare unfolded, I can see a way forward for us.

“You had to have known I was in the office today, that I was in LA. I’ve missed you. Why didn’t you come and find me?” Relief like I’ve never known propels my hands up and I cup her cheeks, brushing the tears away as I look down into her beautiful face.

“I was coming to find you, Fifty-five. Tonight. I came home to shower and then head to your place. Work has been crazy this week. I’ve needed to be with my dad. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you. And I was coming to you. You beat me to it.” Her arms snake around my waist and she lays her head on my chest. Feeling her soft, sexy body pressed against me, giving me hope . . . it all feels so fucking good.

“Reece, I’ve been so confused.” She looks up at me, her eyes wary. “Maybe I still am.”

“That’s okay. I’m confused, too.” I lean down to brush my lips along her hair line, I get whiffs of the notes unique to her; vanilla, flowers, wine and smoke.

Her hands stroke my back and she whispers, “We might feel that for a while, but . . .”

“I’m not confused about two very important things, Luc,” I tell her, pushing her away from my body. I miss the heat right away. But, I need her at arm’s length so I can look into her eyes when I say this.

“Have you missed me this week? Or did you just want to talk to me to clear the air?” I ask her.

“I’ve missed you,”

I cup her face. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Completely,”

“Then, babe, we can be confused, upset, whatever. But what we can’t be, is apart.”

She nods, and I see her throat moving. She bites her lower lip, and my teeth feel jealous. I lean in, nip it and pull.

I lick the bruised flesh and press a kiss to her top lip. I start to kiss her again, and she pulls away.

“No, Reece . . .” She steps completely out my hold. She’s flushed and a few wisps of her hair are sticking to her neck. Her eyes wide and incredulous.

“I have questions. Don’t you have questions for me?” she asks, breathless but serious.

“Yeah, I do,” I respond shortly. “But they can wait until I’ve kissed you.” I reach for her. She steps out of my reach. Her eyes wide and serious.

“No. If we start kissing, we won’t stop. I really need to finish talking.” She crosses her arms, sets her chin and I resign myself to listening.