He shrugs. “Not anymore. Unlike you, now I make time for other things beside work.”
It’s not like I want to spend most of my days working, but what else am I supposed to do with my free time? Go on dates my mom sets up?
No, thanks. Been there, done that, and made an enemy out of a town deputy in the process after my mom’s last matchmaking attempt with his ex.
We rise from our seats, and my cousin nudges me toward the exit. “Remember when we got drunk at that cabin in Lake Aurora?”
“Which time?”
His smile only grows wider. “The weekend Dahlia got engaged.”
Somehow my strides remain steady. “I’m struggling to recall.”
He pokes me in the back. “That’s probably because of all the alcohol you consumed.”
“A good cousin would have gotten drunk with me.”
“And risk you dying in your sleep after choking on your own vomit? No way. Your mother would have never forgiven me.”
“I’m sure you would’ve been happy stepping in as my replacement.”
His dark brown eyes roll. “Anyway, I’ll never forget what you said that night.”
My lungs stall.
He clasps my shoulder. “You wouldn’t shut up about how if you got a second chance with Dahlia, you’d do things differently.”
It takes everything in me to keep my voice neutral as I say, “I was drunk.”
“And?”
“She’s engaged.”
“According to your mother, not anymore.”
Mierda. “How did she find out?”
“How else? Rosa told her.”
“And so the chisme begins.” I don’t expect anything less from the two best friends who have been attached at the hip since kindergarten.
His scowl deepens. “It’s hard to keep it a secret when it’s all over social media tonight. Dahlia has her own trending hashtag and everything.”
My stomach churns as questions bounce around my head, making it impossible to come up with a reply.
Why did they break up?
Is there any chance they will get back together?
Was Oliver the reason Dahlia was crying earlier today before I crashed into her?
Rafa shoots me a look. “No.”
I blink. “What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“You’re the one who brought her up.”
“Because I wanted to be the one to break the news before your mom started whispering in your ear about how now is your chance.”
“My mom whispers a lot of things into my ear about who I should date, yet you don’t see me giving in to her.”
“Dahlia is different, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore, because whatever feelings I had for Dahlia are no longer relevant.” Something twists in my chest.
Mierda: Shit.
Chisme: Gossip.
Rafa’s reply is cut off by Nico’s shout.
“Papi!” Nico abandons my mom and runs down the hall.
My cousin gets down on his knees in time for Nico to launch himself into his open arms.
“I’m so proud of you.” Rafa fixes Nico’s glasses so they sit right.
Nico’s forehead wrinkles from his frown. “But didn’t you hear me mess up?”
Rafa scoffs. “You were perfect like always.”
Nico, who must have inherited his perfectionistic tendencies from me, attempts to recount his slipup, only to be stopped by Rafa tickling him.
“No!” Nico wiggles in his father’s embrace.
“Sorry. I can’t hear you. What were you saying?” Rafa reaches for the spot under Nico’s arm, making him squeal and squirm.
While Rafa might be closed off to the rest of the world, he is nothing but warm with his son. The way he acts with my godson despite all his issues gives me hope my cousin will heal one day.
I might have experienced nothing close to what Rafa has gone through, but I know it isn’t easy to get over someone. Dahlia taught me that lesson a long time ago, and it’s one I don’t plan on forgetting anytime soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dahlia
My first official day back in town was quiet, most likely because I never went into town at all. With my mom and sister, Liliana, busy working at the floral shop, I did nothing but stare at the ceiling.
It’s strange going from not having enough time to eat lunch and use the restroom to barely leaving my room unless absolutely necessary. My suitcase packed with expensive, trendy outfits sits untouched on my floor, a warning sign in itself.
While I’ve always had anxiety and perfectionistic tendencies since high school, depression is a newer struggle for me and a lonely battle I fought for months before getting help.
My therapist, Dr. Martin, is a wonderful woman who charges a small fortune for each session. While money isn’t an issue for me anymore, I was hesitant about the emotional commitment, but she was highly recommended by my agent, so I took a chance eight weeks ago and have no regrets.
I’m not sure where I would be without Dr. Martin. She has endless patience, the calmest voice, and ends every session with a Jamaican proverb I don’t understand until I look it up afterward.
Today, she barely speaks for the first half of our telehealth session, allowing me to go off about my mistakes and shortcomings.
She clasps her hands together, making her gold Cartier bracelets jangle against her deep brown skin. “What made you stay with Oliver for so long?”
Her never-ending patience is put to the test as I sit and think. I’ve been asked this question before, but at the time, my view on life was tainted by bitterness, self-loathing, and a thick cloud of depression.
“Things were good for a long time.” Which made the loss that much harder.
Her tiny nod gives me courage.
It takes me another sixty seconds to come up with five words. “He made me feel special.”
He never deserved you. Oliver pulled me into a hug after I broke out in tears while packing up Julian’s dorm room, for which I never received even a simple thank-you text.
I like you…a lot more than any friend should, Oliver told me right before the holiday break during our junior year after we spent a year keeping things platonic.
Before that, it was easy to put him in the friend zone after Julian hurt me, but his blue eyes, blond hair, and effortless smile grew on me.
You’re so talented, and you deserve to be appreciated. He encouraged me to post my first photo on the Designs by Dahlia social media page. It was a grainy image of my first apartment, and one I have kept pinned at the top of the page to this day because of everything it represents.
I was vulnerable and searching for reassurance in all the wrong places, including Oliver’s family, who became immersed in my business once they started helping produce our TV show.
“Was it always like that?” Dr. Martin probes.
“Before we got engaged, we had seven years of typical relationship stuff. There were plenty of good moments mixed with some bad ones. He made it seem like he was the misunderstood black sheep of his family, only for me to realize he was actually the wolf.”
If Dr. Martin is surprised, she doesn’t show it.