Page 200 of Love Unwritten
“Then who?”
“Lorenzo.”
After my conversation with Julian the other day, I spent some time stewing in my thoughts and obsessing over the fact that my aunt knew about me keeping up appearances for years.
I considered ignoring the subject, but when I show up at her house a few days later for another haircut, it feels like the best time to talk.
Even though the idea terrifies me.
Tía helps Nico get settled in her guest room before she leads me to the kitchen. She offers me a few snacks and a glass of agua fresca while I take a seat on a stool. My heart beats rapidly while she gets her supplies ready, and I’m hardly paying attention to the questions she asks about work.
She stops spraying my hair. “Rafa?”
“¿Si?”
“Same cut as last time?”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I shake my head.
“Longer?”
“Shorter.”
Her eyes widen. “¿Qué?”
“Well, as short as you can go while still leaving it long enough to run my fingers through. And no clippers.”
“You want it like before?” She doesn’t specify further, but I don’t need her to.
“Yeah. Like before.”
She smiles throughout my entire haircut. I flinch a few times as locks of hair fall around my feet, but my aunt reassures me that the final product will look amazing.
For a brief time, I thought she was lying, only to be proven wrong when she steers me toward the guest bathroom. I’m overwhelmed with emotion as I check out my new haircut. Like promised, I can still give my hair a good shake with the tips of my fingers, but the length only highlights my features rather than hiding them.
My aunt gives my arm a squeeze. “You look…great.”
Our gazes connect in the mirror. Her unshed tears make me feel equal parts happy and guilty, knowing I’m the reason behind them.
“Por favor. No llores.”
Her brows pinch together. “I promise they’re happy tears.”
“I don’t want any tears. Happy or not.”
She looks away with a sniff. “I can’t help it. You just look so…”
“Handsome?” I tease.
“Feliz.”
I tug her into a tight hug. “Perdón, Tía. Por todo.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“For everything.” My voice cracks. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you—”
She cups my cheek. “I might have hurt for you, but you never hurt me, mijo. Nunca en tu vida.”