Vegas Knot (✔️) | Love Travels #1

Forty-Two

"I have a bit of a problem with feeling inferior to my siblings," he says once we are under the cover of the forest and out of earshot of anyone in sight. "My brother is kind of the golden child of the family. He's actually the reason I have that house. And, many other things. No one ever lets me forget it. 'We sent you all the way to Canada and all you do is become a teacher' and that kind of thing. But my brother—Oscar—has everything they could ever want. And I know I shouldn't, but I compare myself to him."

"You're right, you shouldn't." I interrupt his speech. "You don't need to be your brother. I... I like you just the way you are."

"About that," he sighs. "That day I came home early?"

I know it. He knows I know it. So I say nothing.

"Well, that day, I got a call from my parents demanding my presence in country for a ceremony in my brother's honour and I just wanted to come home and let you hold me. Maybe I should be ashamed of that, I—"

"You shouldn't be!" I protest. "I wish I'd known."

"And that's where I need to apologize. I was so upset with them I just lashed out. I do that sometimes, when the stress gets too much. I'm working on it."

We walk in silence again, gravel underfoot crunching as we do.

"Do you think maybe the fact that we didn't know each other two weeks ago is both the cause of our unhappiness and, maybe, our greatest joy?" I ask abruptly stopping in the middle of the path.

His face registers his confusion, so I continue.

"I mean, not knowing each other has made so many messes with us here trying to be perfect people, unwilling to admit we're swimming out of our depth. But back in Vegas, when we were just being us. When we weren't worried about fitting in or looking good or... well, I guess we were, but that part was pretend. The real part was just us. Us genuinely being interested in the same things and wanting to know more about each other and..." my face warms at the memory of our kiss.

He steps closer into me and rests his hands on either side of my head, gently pulling me toward him. And I let him guide me into a kiss that sends shivers down my spine. My arms find their way around his back and I pull him into me, closing the space between us. I cling for dear life, as though he's the lifeboat and I'm drowning.

Which maybe I was until he found his way into my life.

I let him take the lead, not worrying about how I look or what needs to be done, but just letting myself feel the warmth of his touch and the tender movement of his lips on mine. My head spins for want of air by the time he releases me, foreheads resting together.

"I want to be what you need, Bianca," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "I just don't know how."

"You are what I need," I reply. "You have always been what I need. I was just too scared to see it. I'm not a perfect wife. You're not a perfect husband. We never will be. But we love each other and we're willing to put in the effort. So what's stopping us? Who says we have to do this any particular way? Let's just be us. Like we were back in Vegas."

His face falls. "I can't do that, Bianca."

I push him away from me. What the hell was that kiss about then?

"No! Not like that! Bianca, wait." He reaches for my hand and I gingerly place my fingers in his. "Bianca, I..." he swallows. "I love you. More than you probably realize. But I can't be the guy I was in Vegas. Here, I'm—"

"Here you're the same guy," I interrupt, finally understanding his meaning. "Here you are the same caring man who wants what's best for me. You are afraid of heights but you climb mountains anyway and you know what?" I can't help the laugh that escapes. "Now, so do I! You've changed me in all the right ways, Enrique, and, if you'll let me, I want to be here for you. I want to be the one you come home to when you have a bad day. I want to be the first person you think of when you wake up and I want to watch you eat my bad food and pretend you like it."