Raph pushed his hands into the pockets of his dark green tracksuit pants and shook his head. “No, that’s alright. Thanks, Aarón, you have a nice night.”
“You, too, Mr. Giannopoulos. Good night.”
Disappointment swirled in Raph’s heart like a bitter wind as he exited Helena’s apartment building into the cool night air. He let out a labored sigh, zipped up his matching track jacket over his thin t-shirt, and headed to his rental car parked across the street. He knew he’d taken a gamble by showing up without calling first, but when his flight from Mérida, Mexico was diverted to the City of Angels, he’d taken it as a sign.
Raph had had plenty of time to think about what he’d overheard that day on his rooftop. He’d tried to convince himself that he’d done the right thing by ending his relationship with Helena, believing that the best way he could love her was by letting her go. If she thought she could find greater happiness with another man, he wouldn’t stand in her way. But the hollow ache in his chest hadn’t diminished in the ten months since.
If anything, it had deepened.
Finally, after weeks of sleepless nights and a minor intervention by Declan, Raph had done something he’d never even considered before he met Helena: he’d sought professional help.
Raph slid behind the steering wheel of his rented four-door sedan, dropped his head against the headrest, and stared at Helena’s dark apartment windows, the outline of Thea’s cat tree visible behind her sheer curtains.
Therapy. The word alone had made him bristle. Talking about his feelings didn’t exactly come naturally to Raph, but over the past seven months, Dr. Martinez had helped him see that his guarded nature did more than protect him; it prevented him from loving and being fully loved.
“It stems from the trauma you experienced as a child,” she’d explained during one of their sessions. “Losing your father and grandmother at such a formative age, then moving to the U.S. just a year later––leaving your grandfather and all you knew––created an association between love and loss. You love with a guarded heart because you don’t trust that it will last.”
Raph had balked and rejected the idea outright. “But I love my mother more than my own life. And I’d do anything for my brothers.”
“Of course, but love and trust are two very different things. And we’re talking about the subconscious mind here, about letting new people into your circle. The fear of losing them is making it difficult for you to invite new love into your life without also keeping it at a distance. You may not be doing it on purpose, and it may not be what you really want, but your subconscious mind is behaving like a bodyguard, trying to protect you from further heartbreak.”
The words had stung. Even now, Raph could feel the old resistance rising in his throat. But Dr. Martinez had been right—and with her help, he’d acknowledged the ways in which he’d kept Helena at a distance and unintentionally pushed her away.
He didn’t know if she was single or dating, if she’d told the other man how she felt, and he didn’t know if a call from him, after months of silence, would be received warmly. But Raph knew he had to tell her how sorry he was for everything that had gone wrong between them. He had to be honest about his fears, his insecurities, and most of all his love for her, and his longing to have her back.
It was Neo, the hopeless romantic, who had encouraged him to reach out to Helena. “I just don’t think it’s really over,” he’d told Raph on the phone last week. “I feel like there’s more to your story.”
Raph had wanted to roll his eyes, to remind Neo that life was not a soap opera, but more than that, he’d wanted it to be true.
The next day, he’d flown to the Yucatán Peninsula to clear his head, renting a little house on the beach in Celestún and spending a few days in Mérida. It had been a much-needed escape from his increasingly hectic work life, and somewhere in his solitude, between morning swims alongside flocks of flamingos, and exploring Mérida’s colorful streets, he’d found the courage to call Helena when he got home.
He couldn’t believe his luck this evening when a minor medical emergency on board his flight from Mexico had forced the captain to divert to L.A. The moment they’d landed at LAX, Raph had booked a rental car and made the drive to Brentwood.
Just then, a black sedan pulled up to the building’s entrance, slowly rolling to a stop beneath the yellow stucco portico.
Raph’s breath stalled when Helena stepped out from the back seat in boot-cut jeans and an oversized, red silk blouse, and tossed her loose hair over her shoulder with her characteristic flare. It shimmered like threads of silver beneath the bright overhead lights as she waited for the driver to retrieve her suitcase from the trunk.
She looked radiant. That was the only word for it—like she had swallowed the sun.
His heart hammered, and his entire body pulsed with nervous anticipation as she took her carryon from the driver and began walking toward the door. “I am a man, not a fortress. I am a man, not a fortress,” he repeated to himself––his stomach lurching as he climbed out of the rental and hurried after her.
“Helena!” he called out once he reached the portico, his voice sharper than intended.
She turned at the sound of her name, and the sight of her eyes––those beautiful blue eyes that had captivated Raph in Oía––sent his heart leaping into his throat.
But as recognition seemed to sink in for Helena, her face blanched, the color drained from her cheeks, and the handle of her suitcase slipped from her fingers.
“Skatá!” she muttered, clumsily maneuvering her shoulder bag as she bent to pick it up.
Raph beat her to it, grabbing the trolly and setting it upright beside her. “Hey,” he said, sounding more casual than the moment called for.
“Hi…” Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper. “What are you doing here, Raph?”
He slipped his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’m just passing through L.A. and found I had some free time before my flight,” he added, not wanting her to think he was stalking her. But it was a lie. His flight had departed twenty minutes ago. “It’s good to see you… You look great.”
You look great? Raph wanted to kick himself. He had imagined this reunion so many times, but somehow never considered what he would actually say to her.
“Oh. I––”
