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We hug goodbye, and when I close the door behind me, I wonder if it’s the last hug I’ll get from her.
I’ll never forgive you if you tell him.
64
LEXIE
“Hi,” I call from Rafael’s doorway. It’s so early Noelia’s not in yet.
When he sees me, he smiles. It’s a balm for my aching heart.
“This is a nice surprise. I missed you last night. Why are you still standing in my doorway?” he asks, taking long strides toward me.
He’s wearing a fresh shirt, but he hasn’t shaved recently and doesn’t appear to have gotten much sleep last night. But he looks divine just the same. Although how he looks isn’t important right now.
I’m swamped with the feeling you get when you’re bone-tired from a long ride through a rough storm. You pull around the bend, and the place where all your cherished memories and keepsakes live comes into sight. It doesn’t matter if the structure has been freshly painted, or if it’s fraying at the seams. You’re home. That’s all that matters. He’s become my home.
Rafael runs a palm over my hair, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I need a hug.” I twine my arms around him, and he holds me close, neither of us speaking for long moments. I don’t allow myself to think about what I’m about to do. I just soak up his warmth.
“Come with me,” he says, much too soon, and leads us to the sitting area in his office. I sit on the couch, and he pulls a chair up until we’re almost knee to knee. “Talk to me, Angel.”
I thought about what I’d say last night, and then again on the way here.
But my head is spinning. I don’t feel quite as safe as I expected—not emotionally. What if he doesn’t see this like I do? Then I’ll have betrayed Valentina’s confidence for nothing.
He holds my fingers between his. “Lexie, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”
I nod. I decide to let his own words about trust guide me.
“Do you remember the day I told you what I needed so we could have a chance?”
He tips his head to the side. “I not only remember the day, but what you said too.”
“After I finished, you shared what you needed. You said you need me to trust you to do right by me. And you need me to be honest with you, and to come to you with the hard stuff.” I draw a breath, forcing the fear and anxiety from my body as I blow it out. “Do you still need those things?”
The knob in his throat bobs. He doesn’t know where I’m going, and it’s making him uneasy, but he’s being patient. “Absolutely.”
“I brought the hard stuff.”
He nods and lets go of my hand, sitting back in his chair. The distance between us feels cavernous, and I haven’t even gotten started.
“Waiting’s not going to make it any easier.”
No. It’s not.
I take in enough air to carry me through to the end, because if I stop, even to breathe, I might not have the courage to finish.
“Marco’s responsible for canceling the caterer, he’s been accessing Saint Phil’s site for at least six months using Valentina’s log-in information, and he switched her antianxiety pills for pills that were six times stronger.” It tumbles out and stretches between us like a soiled carpet that neither of us wants to step on.
He paled at the mention of the pills—something I’ve never seen him do. After a few seconds pass, he leans in toward me.
“How—how do you know this? Did Valentina tell you?”
I nod. “That’s why I stayed there last night. That, and—”
“And?” he asks gently, rubbing a thumb over his jaw.
