Crashing into Her

by Mia Sosa

  I know what he’s going to say before he says it, the truth slamming into me like a wrecking ball. I’m not afraid of hurting someone. I’m afraid of being hurt. And when I realized Eva might not forgive me, I ran, figuring that I could avoid the pain of her leaving.

  “You saw what getting hurt by your mother did to me,” my father says. “The man I became. And I don’t blame you for thinking I was a failure because I couldn’t let her go. And when that woman—”

  “Melissa.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says with a dismissive wave. “You know what it felt like when Melissa broke up with you even though you did nothing wrong. And mijo, you know what it felt like when your mother left, because as much as you pretend it didn’t bother you, the truth is, your mother left you, too. But never letting yourself fall in love isn’t going to change the past.”

  It kills me that he thinks I’m disappointed in him in any way. Nothing could be further from the truth. “Papi, I don’t think of you as a failure.”

  “Maybe not in life, but in love, that’s a different story. And you know what? That’s my fault. I’ve been living in the past, too. I haven’t been a good example for you. But that’s going to change starting right now. I don’t want you to use me as a shield to stop yourself from living. I’m not miserable. And I think it’s time I do my own thing for a while.”

  The thoughts bouncing around in my head refuse to merge into a coherent whole, so I’m compelled to ask the most basic question while my brain tries to catch up. “Where will you go?”

  He dips his chin and stares at the floor. “Berta has an extra room at her place. Says I can stay there.”

  There’s that woman again. Popping out like a jack-in-the-box. “What has this woman done to you?”

  He smiles. “Maybe the same thing Eva did to you.”

  Hearing her name is like having someone hit my chest with a battering ram. It hurts too much. Because I realize I messed up twice. Not only did I manipulate a situation to her detriment, but I also gave up on us when she confronted me about it. And I did all that because I was terrified that she wouldn’t love me the way I love her.

  He reaches over and taps my hand. “The time for your mother and me has passed. But you can still work things out with Eva. Apologize. I don’t know what happened. Whatever you did, tell her you were wrong. Don’t stop fighting for her because you’re too scared to lose her. Try this time, mijo. If you love her like I think you do, try.”

  I doubt Eva would even want me to try. “I want to, Pop, but it’s not that simple.”

  “Who the hell ever told you anything about love is simple, Antonio?” He pokes me in the forehead. “Piensa. Love like the love I have for you is worth all the messiness in the world. And I bet the reason you’ve been moping around this week is because you got a little taste of what that could be like and now it’s gone. Get it back.”

  Jesus. Have we been enabling each other this whole time? The thought turns my stomach. I can confidently say he’s right about one point, though: Now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to be with Eva, the alternative—never being with her again—makes me want to crawl up inside myself and shut down. “All right, Papi. I’ll try.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Find someone who makes your heart soar.

  Eva

  Monday morning, I decide to immerse myself in preparing the cardio defense classes I’ll be rolling out in a month. Not even a trip on the Metro dampens my enthusiasm for choreographing the new routines. Only reflecting on my relationship with Anthony would do that, and I’m making a valiant effort to curb such thoughts.

  When I enter Every Body’s lobby, I see Tori behind the desk speaking on her cell phone. Her mouth is moving at top speed, and her eyebrows are drawn together. Within seconds of my arrival, she ends the call and drops her head, and then she repeatedly taps her fist on the desk.

  I jog to the counter. “Tori, what’s going on?”

  She looks up at me and worries her bottom lip with her teeth before she answers. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not. It’s Anthony.”

  I’m rooted to the spot, but my heart is banging against my chest as though it’s trying to force its way out of my body. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

  She stares at me, an incredulous expression on her face. “Nothing yet. But he asked me to come to Griffith Park. To Griffith Observatory, specifically. Says he’s doing the biggest fall of his life, and he wants me to be there. For moral support.”

  My knees buckle, and I grab onto the desk to keep me upright. “The eighty-foot jump Kurt’s been trying to convince him to do?”

  Tori gawks at me. “You knew about this?”

  I shake my head, trying to remember what he said about it. “He mentioned it once in class. In passing. Said he didn’t think he was ready for it.”

  Tori grimaces. “I’m worried he’s being reckless. Maybe doing something he wouldn’t otherwise do because he’s chasing an adrenaline rush.” She grabs her car keys off the counter and shoves them in her pocket. “I need to talk to him in person. See for myself where his head’s at.”

  “I’m going with you,” I say, striding beside her to the exit.

  “Fine,” she says, her face buried in her phone as she pulls up directions.

  Once we’re in the car, the thoughts about Anthony I’d been trying to suppress flood my brain. What if he’s doing this because we argued? Because he’s not thinking clearly about the risks? Because he needs the rush to get out of his head? I’d certainly understand. I mean, isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do? Trying to numb myself so that I can function without him? We’re both being ridiculous, and one of us needs to break the logjam.

  I spend the rest of the drive rehearsing what I’ll say to him when I get to the park. I want him to give us a chance. I want him to be my partner in every sense of the word. I want us to love each other, challenge and support each other, give each other our honest opinions knowing they may not always be agreed with or appreciated. And if he’ll listen, I’ll make sure he knows how special he is to me.

  The car winds around a seemingly never-ending road up the slopes of Mount Hollywood. I’d planned to come here for sightseeing one day—my LA bucket list is long—so I only glance at the view of the Hollywood sign from the Observatory’s parking lot, knowing I’ll be back when I have fewer pressing matters to attend to.

  Tori searches for cash in her wallet to pay the parking fee. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you. I need a minute to text Carter anyway.”

  I stuff my bag under the seat and climb out, turning back at the last minute to ask where the hell I’m going. “Did he say where exactly they’d be filming?”

  “The East Terrace. Up the front sidewalks. Said it would be closed to the public, but he’d make sure someone would let me in.”

  I run up the ramp, and with the help of several staffers along the way, find the sidewalk to the East Terrace. In my head, I consider how to finagle my way onto the set, ultimately deciding the easiest approach would be to claim that Anthony’s my boyfriend. But when I get to the East Terrace, I don’t see what I expect to see—there are no people milling around, no cameras on scene, no safety checks in process. And now that I think about it, how the hell is someone going to perform a high fall off the deck of the Griffith Observatory? Did Tori misunderstand where in the park Anthony would be?

  I spin around intending to march back to Tori’s car, and that’s when I spy a lone figure leaning against the deck rail. Anthony. My heart squeezes in my chest at the sight of him. He’s wearing his shades, this time for good reason, and a hesitant smile. I give him a tentative wave, wondering with equal amounts confusion and hope whether his goal was to bring me here.

  He saunters over, the easiness in his gait mirroring the casualness of his attire—a royal blue T-shirt and loose-fitting jeans that do little to hide his powerful thighs. “You’re confused.”

  It’s an odd way to greet
me, but it’s accurate, nonetheless. “I am. Are you doing the eighty-foot jump or not?”

  His smile grows, as though it’ll reveal its true meaning when it widens completely. “What did Tori tell you that made you think I’d be doing that jump?”

  I try to think back to what Tori said. “She . . . um . . . she said you’d be doing the biggest fall of your life.”

  He nods. “Right. That’s true.” Licking his lips, he inches closer, running a hand along my jaw. “The biggest fall of my life, though, is falling in love with you.”

  Oh. My. God. I couldn’t feel any more cherished than I do in this moment. I’m also mindful that I spent the last thirty minutes imagining his untimely demise. I shoot out my hand and jab him in the stomach. “Wait. So you’re not doing a high fall today?”

  “Ouch,” he says on a laugh. He removes his sunglasses, revealing eyes glowing with affection. “There are no death-defying jumps in my immediate plans. No, I’d only pull a stunt like this for you.” Then he closes one eye, scrunches his nose, and twists his mouth in amusement. “Too cheesy?”

  I can’t help snorting. “Cheesy? Yes. Too cheesy? Nah. It means you’ll make a fool of yourself for me, and that makes me want to swoon.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “Swooning is good.”

  I look up at him and smile, feeling more content than I have in a long time. He’s my person. I know it. My heart knows it, too.

  We stand there in silence, enjoying the rightness of being together. The quiet moment doesn’t last long, though, because he pulls back and clears his throat, pinning me with a serious stare.

  “You asked me once why I perform stunts,” he says, “and I don’t think I ever told you. When I’m free falling, there’s a split-second of fear as I take the plunge, but then I let my body catch the air. For an instant I feel weightless, absolutely free. It’s exhilarating. I chase that perfect feeling each time I free fall. But it doesn’t hold a candle to how I feel when you’re with me. I love you, Eva. And I’m so glad you crashed into my life.”

  I smile at that description. “I beg to differ. You’re the stunt performer, so I think it would be more accurate to say you crashed into mine.”

  He looks up at the sky and says, “I’m getting used to never having the last word.” Then he lowers his head and taps my nose. “I kind of like it.”

  I give him a saucy smile. “You should.”

  Before I can ask what led to this soul-baring epiphany, his expression clouds, the brightness in his eyes dimming. “I want you to know that I never doubted your abilities, and I never wanted to control you. I honestly thought I was keeping you safe. Making a reasoned decision based on what I knew about the totality of the situation. But I should have gone about addressing it differently. Should have talked to you. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  I know this: Anthony’s never made me feel incapable of doing stunt work. In fact, he’s been my cheerleader even when he worried I was training for the wrong reasons. I trust that if he were presented with a similar scenario now, he’d speak to me about it first. “And what about the running? Because I’m going to need you to hang around if we’re going to make this work.”

  He threads his fingers through mine. “I was scared. I kept telling myself that relationships were messy, that I didn’t want to hurt someone else the way my mother hurt my father, or the way I hurt Melissa. But really, I was afraid that you would hurt me. The way my mother hurt me. The way Melissa did, too. And here’s the thing. If I hadn’t met you, I would have been okay continuing to run away from that possibility. But that perfect feeling I mentioned? I want it. With you. And if it means I keep my ass planted wherever you are to fix a problem or talk something through, then I’ll do it.” He cups my face. “So, are you willing to give me a second chance? I promise not to need a third.”

  He’s in love with me. This gorgeous, funny, sensitive man is in love with me. Is that what I’m feeling? Does that explain the ache that won’t go away, or my inability to shove him in the memory box of Relationships Past? It must be. I reach up and cover his hands with mine, suddenly forgetting the speech I practiced on the way here. But it’s okay—the truth is simple. “Anthony, I can confidently say that you’re my person, and yes, I’ll give you a second chance. Because I’m in love with you, too, and I don’t ever want us to be apart.”

  He lifts me up—thank goodness I’m wearing yoga pants—and I wrap my legs around his waist, my body anchored by his big hands palming my butt.

  “You’re dying to kiss me, right?” he asks.

  In answer, I brace the sides of his face and lean in for a long, slow kiss. It’s a tender one, and this time, I’m overwhelmed by the promise in it.

  When our lips separate, he gives me a devilish smile, his eyes suddenly blazing with undisguised lust. “So, Ms. Montgomery, are you finally ready to admit that I rub you the right way?”

  I snicker at the reminder of our shenanigans outside Bradley International several months ago. “You do, Mr. Castillo. You absolutely do.”

  Epilogue

  Eva

  One year later

  Tori studies her swollen belly in the dressing room’s full-length mirror. Her thick, dark hair and dark brown eyes make the blue of her dress appear even paler.

  “No pregnant woman should be forced to participate in a wedding beyond the seventh-month mark,” she says.

  Standing beside her and making last-minute adjustments to my hair, I singsong my response. “You could have said no.”

  “Oh, right. Like that was even an option.” She sticks out her tongue at my reflection. “You make it sound so simple. As though my presence wasn’t a foregone conclusion.”

  “Everyone would have understood.”

  “Ha. I thought you knew the Castillo men. They’re not good at letting things go.”

  “They’re both getting better at it, though.”

  As soon as I say the words, I smile, knowing how true they are. Anthony no longer assumes he’ll be hurt by love. He accepts that there are no guarantees and appreciates that our relationship must be nurtured to grow. When we fight—and it’s happened a time or two (or three)—his first instinct isn’t to run but to communicate. And I’ve become less defensive, less apt to assume his suggestions are anything more than his opinions, which I can accept or reject depending on the circumstances.

  We’re living together now, in the house he once shared with Luis. Paying only half the rent has been a boon to my savings account. The occasional stunt job when I’m not teaching classes helps, too. We’re also working out a rent-to-own agreement with Kurt’s sister. It’ll be interesting to see how my father reacts to my and Anthony’s living arrangement when he visits next month.

  Anthony isn’t a partial owner of EST yet, but Kurt’s been dropping hints that it’ll happen soon. Now that Julian represents him, though, he’s less dependent on EST income anyway. And Luis? Well, Luis has changed, too, his divorce from Anthony’s mother having been finalized several months after he became Berta’s roommate.

  Tori turns around and fans herself. “This little girl is going to be a handful. I can already tell.”

  “Serves you right, chica.” I bend over and talk to her belly. “And your godmother is going to teach you all the ways to annoy your mother.”

  Tori playfully covers her belly to protect it and turns away. “Give me a few years before you start in on her training.”

  I put a hand on my chin and pretend to think about it. “Maybe.”

  She smiles at me and pulls me in for a hug. “Ready?”

  I nod. “Absolutely.”

  We walk past several dressing rooms, and then she precedes me into the reception hall’s vestibule, where a photographer snaps a few candid shots while we wait for our cue.

  Ashley appears in the doorway leading to the garden. “We’re ready for you.”

  Carter appears behind her and holds out his hand. Tori takes it with a smile.

  “Still breathtaking,”
Carter says. “Then. Today. Always.”

  She grins at him. “Oooh, you’re going to get you some tonight, baby.”

  Then Luis appears behind me, looking dapper in a black three-piece suit. “Ready to walk with this viejito down the aisle?”

  “I’m honored to, and yes, I’m ready.” I take his arm in mine, enjoying the way my vintage tea-length dress flutters against my legs as I shift in place.

  To the left of the gazebo, Ashley subtly nods to the organist and the enthralling sounds of “Ave Maria” fill the garden. Having served as an event planner in one of her many jobs before she settled in LA, Ashley’s brought that experience to bear here and has taken on the planning of this wedding as if it were her own. Julian sits in the third row, proudly paying attention to no one other than his partner. He’s nothing if not consistent.

  Ashley nods, using a hand by her side to motion us forward. Luis and I follow her cue and walk down the garden path, smiling at the friends and family who have gathered to witness the marriage. When we reach the officiant, we separate and take our designated places.

  My gaze immediately lands on Anthony, who’s now standing in the doorway, in the same place Luis and I just stood, with Berta by his side. I glance at Luis to witness the moment when he first sees his bride. A misty-eyed Berta smiles at her husband-to-be.

  I can’t help meeting Anthony’s gaze and holding it. This is a special moment for his father, and I’m so glad we’re taking part in it. But more than that, this is a special moment for us, too.

  It’s an affirmation of the joy of loving someone and letting them love you.

  It’s proof that one can let go of the past and find love again.

  It’s confirmation of the rightness of us.

  After the wedding, we proceed to the reception hall, where a banquet-style feast awaits us. And yes, Tori’s mom, Lourdes, and her sister, Bianca, are overseeing the menu. Their only restriction? No baked empanadas.