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“You want to work at a daycare?” Ricardo prompts with a hint of disapproval.
“I don’t know.” I drop my eyes from his. “When my mom was alive, my life revolved around her, and when I was working at the daycare, they always gave me any time off that I needed. And I just liked working with little kids. None of them judged or hated or cared about anything except for how you made them feel.”
“There are some really great daycares right here in the city, and I know a few of the owners. If you decide that’s what you’d like to do, I can put in a good word,” Francesca offers, and my nose starts to sting when I don’t hear even a hint of judgment in her tone, only sincerity.
“Thank you,” I tell her softly before I push back my chair. Roman stands when I do. “Sorry, I’m just going to use the restroom. I’ll be back.”
I don’t meet his gaze or look at his family. I hustle through the restaurant and make my way down a hallway to the women’s bathroom. When I get inside, I go to the sink and flip on the cold water, running my wrist under the stream, hoping it will help distract me so that I don’t cry. When I hear the door open, I look that way on instinct and watch Roman step inside.
“Are you okay?”
I don’t even bother scolding him for coming into the women’s room. As his mom pointed out, he does what he wants. “Yes. It was just your mom being nice to me. I got emotional, and I didn’t want to end up crying in front of everyone.” His face softens as he leans back against the door. “Did you… Are you buying my property?” I ask quietly, and he nods. “Why?” I whisper the question, and he just stares at me. “Roman.”
“I planned on telling you after the closing.”
“That’s too much.”
“I could give you the moon, Elora, and it still wouldn’t compare to what you’ve given me.”
“We didn’t even really know each other when you put in your offer.”
“Even then, I couldn’t stand the thought of you losing anything else, giving up another piece of yourself just to fix something you didn’t break.”
My jaw clenches as tears I have no control over fill my eyes and start to fall. Shutting off the water, I walk to one of the stalls and grab some tissue.
“Come here,” he whispers, taking a few steps away from the door when I walk out, dabbing my eyes.
“I’m mad at you,” I whisper as I fall into his open arms.
“That’s okay.” His lips brush against my ear. “I would do it all over again, Elora. Even if I didn’t have you, knowing you’d have that property, that you could sit out on that porch and look out at the mountains, I’d have no regrets.” His words cause an overwhelming number of emotions to bubble to the surface, and a fresh wave of tears spills over.
“Remember the story you told me about the Starfish Thrower?” I whisper.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not the old man. You’re the kid who believed that changing one life could make a difference.”
“Fuck.” He sighs, gripping me so tight it’s almost hard for me to breathe. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” And that’s exactly what these all-consuming, needy emotions are that are wrapped in trust. It’s a reminder that I’m alive, have so much to be thankful for, and so much to look forward to with him.
“Sorry,” a woman’s voice breaks into the moment. I pull back enough to look in her direction just inside the door, and her eyes wander over my face, which I’m sure is a mess. “I just need to use the restroom.”
“Of course.” I wipe my face. “Sorry.”
“I’ll meet you at the table.” Roman grabs my attention by cupping my cheek. “Unless you want me to make up something and take you home?”
“No, I’ll be okay,” I assure him. With a nod, he smooths his fingers down my cheek, touches his lips to mine, then lets me go and walks out the door while the woman goes into one of the stalls.
Walking to the sink, I look into the mirror and let out a shaky breath. I probably should have told Roman to take me home, but it’s too late for that now. Grabbing a paper towel from the stack next to the sink, I wet it with cold water. As I press it under my eyes, hoping to get rid of some of the redness, the door opens again, and my heart sinks when Roman’s mom and sisters come inside.
“Hey.” His mom gives me a soft smile.
“Hi.” I return her smile, but mine is shaky.
“Roman said you might need some help,” Sofia says, joining me at the sink with Lucia. “Let’s get you fixed up.” Gently, she takes the paper towel from me, and my stupid nose starts to sting when I realize they really are here to help.
“Part of making this work is you have to stop crying.” Lucia gives me an eye roll while opening her purse.
