Page 132 of Love Unwritten
Disappointment. Frustration. Heartache.
I’m done letting him pull me in, only to shove me away the moment things get a little too real between us. It isn’t fair to keep putting myself in that position in the hopes of us moving forward.
He was right all along.
I do deserve the kind of love they write songs about. Not sad ones like the ones I enjoy writing, but the happy kind that people dance to at weddings because they flawlessly describe what it feels like to love and be loved.
“You know what I want?” I ask with a hint of anger.
He seems confused by my question. “What?”
My anger emboldens me. “Someone who cares about me so damn much, they would do everything possible to protect me rather than hurt me, and I’m quickly coming to realize you’re not that man. At least not with me.”
I’ve seen the way Rafael acts toward people he cares about. The way he treats Nico, Julian, his aunt, and the Muñoz family. His support, patience, and loyalty are unwavering, and he trusts them enough to let them in.
Because they never gave him a reason not to, I remind myself, echoing his earlier words.
A deep-rooted sadness takes hold of his expression. “What if I wanted to be that man? For you?”
“What?” Shock replaces whatever frustration I felt before. He was supposed to agree with what I said, not challenge me.
“I did a lot of thinking today.” He lets the statement hang.
I stick to silence.
“Do you mind if we take a seat for this conversation?” He tips his chin toward the sitting area inside my cabin.
“Is that such a good idea?”
“I’d rather not open up to you in the middle of a hallway, if that’s all right.”
I consider telling him no and sending him away, but my curiosity won’t let me. With a sigh, I open the door wider, giving him enough room to enter. “Don’t make me regret this.”
He keeps close, intentionally brushing against me as he walks inside. “You won’t.”
I shut the door harder than necessary, closing us off completely from the rest of the ship. His gaze flicks between the couch and the chair before he chooses the former.
I take a seat on the chair, cross my legs, and wait.
Rafael uncurls his clenched hands and looks up at me. “About what I said earlier…”
I don’t speak. Don’t breathe. Don’t even blink while he gathers the courage to continue.
He stares at his hands like they hold all the answers to the universe. “I have trouble trusting people.”
I nod.
“I’ve always been that way, ever since I was a little kid.” He releases another shaky breath. “I thought if I kept people at a distance, they wouldn’t be able to hurt me.”
I dig my fingers into my knees to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Sounds lonely.”
“It was for a while…”
“But?”
His mouth opens, only to slam shut before he wipes a hand down his face. “I haven’t told anyone this before.”
I blink twice. “No one?”