“What’s that supposed to mean?” My notebook falls to the ground as I jump off the bench. I’m not a confrontational person, but Rafael always draws this fire out of me that I find hard to extinguish, even with deep breaths and Willow’s yoga mantras.
His eyes flick up at me. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“I prefer the term hopeful.”
He squints. “That there is exactly my point.”
My frown becomes more pronounced. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“In theory, no.”
“But you seem to think so.”
“Only because I’ll never be the one,” he says it with a sneer, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Sure, I’ve said I’m looking for the one in passing, like when we were getting some shave ice the other night, but it didn’t sound as childish as he makes it seem. It’s not like I’m out there searching for some kind of soulmate, rejecting people left and right because they don’t meet an unrealistic set of expectations.
I cross my arms tightly over my chest to shield the way they shake with anger. “There is nothing wrong with being picky and knowing what I want.”
His head tilts in silent understanding. “No, there isn’t.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
“What you want and who I am are two completely different things.”
“Sounds like an excuse.”
“Or is it just a reality check?”
I frown so hard, my forehead muscles strain.
“I can think you’re pretty—can think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, inside and out—but that doesn’t change our reality.”
“And what’s that?”
“We want very different things out of life.”
“How do you know what I want when you haven’t even asked me?”
His eyes drop to my mouth. “You said enough the other night.”
Is that why he looked so angry after snapping a spoon in half? I had a feeling it had to do with what I said, but I didn’t realize just how much it impacted him until now.
He stands and closes the space between us until our chests brush and our ragged breaths synchronize. His hand reaches out to cup my cheek, sending a zing down my spine that then ricochets toward my chest.
For someone who claims he isn’t the one, he sure has a way of making me feel like he is with every single touch.
He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. “Tell me you don’t want to get married then.”
I try to avoid his gaze, but he lifts my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes.
“You can’t, can you?”
“No.” I meant what I said the other night. I do want to get married, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wait for someone like him to come around to the idea. If I knew the person was special, a ring is only a symbol—a symbol I would want because of the commitment it comes with—but there wouldn’t be a due date for it.
I’d wait, if it made someone like him happy. A partnership is what matters most to me in the end, not some legally binding contract.
His next words make my stomach sink. “Tell me you don’t want kids after all.”
“I can’t.” After growing up as an only child who ached for the siblings I would never have, I want at least two, maybe even three, depending on life’s circumstances.
“I got a vasectomy when I found out about Nico’s condition.”
My heart squeezes.
He doesn’t look away as he speaks. “I love him, but I didn’t want to risk having another kid who could struggle with RP one day. Didn’t want to pass that burden on out of selfishness, so I took care of the problem.”
“That’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“Of course. You of all people know adoption is always an option.”
His eyes narrow, and I can immediately tell he doesn’t believe me.
Can tell he doesn’t want to either.
“So you don’t want kids of your own?” he asks.
“I mean, I’ve thought about it, but who hasn’t?”
The muscles around his eyes soften. “I thought so.”
His resigned tone fuels my frustration. “Why are you asking me all these questions in the first place? What point are you trying to prove here?”
“That touching you…” He cradles my cheeks between his palms. “Wanting you… It may feel right, but we couldn’t be more wrong for each other.”
I don’t realize how much his words hurt until they affect my breathing.
His sad smile is meant to soften what comes next, but it has the opposite effect, making the dread building inside my stomach worse. “I don’t want to get married again and have more kids. I’ve been there, done that, and barely made it out alive the first time. Hell, I’m still paying the price every single day and probably will be for the next nine plus years, all because I had a kid with someone who doesn’t deserve him.” His voice cracks toward the end.
“Rafael,” I say in a broken whisper.
He brushes my cheek soothingly, which makes the ache in my chest feel unbearable. “One day, when you find the one you’ve been looking for, he better do everything in his power to keep you because you deserve the kind of love that they write songs about.” A single tear slips out of the corner of my eye, and he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb.
He pulls back, but not before he steals the flower he gave me straight from my hair.
My heart splinters right down the middle, a thousand cracks forming as he walks back to the Jeep, taking whatever misguided hope I had about the two of us with him.
The next morning, I wake up to Nico bouncing on my bed, shouting for me to get up before the yacht takes off without me. I have no idea what he is talking about until I check my phone and read a cryptic message from Rafael.
RAFAEL
Slight change to our travel plans. We will be taking a boat from Oahu to Kauai instead of a plane.
With that confirmation, I pack both Nico’s and my suitcases, all while he keeps talking about this massive yacht and all the activities we get to do over the next day.
Only Rafael would pay a seven-day retainer fee for a yacht he plans on using for twenty-four hours. I should find it obnoxious, but then again, if he wants to spend millions to help his kid have the trip of a lifetime, I can’t fault him for trying.
I’m not sure what brought on the drastic change to our plans, but I’m not about to complain about spending the day on a yacht, although it does make me a little queasy when I think about Rafael’s bank statement and the fishing boat from the other day.
An hour later, the hired car drops us off at a private marina. Nico is already a hundred feet in front of us because he wants to analyze every single boat before we find ours.
“Did you take your Dramamine?” Rafael asks while rolling our luggage.
“No?” With this morning’s craziness, I completely forgot about it.
Rafael reaches inside his carry-on duffel bag and pulls out a tube. “Here.”
“You have some too?”
“Since you forgot it on the last boat, I thought it would be good to have some on me just in case.”
“How thoughtful.” Usually, I would find something like that romantic, but after last night’s conversation, it angers me.
He looks at me with a frown. “You’re still upset about last night.”
“No. I’m upset that you keep sending me mixed signals,” I say with a bit of bite.
His face crumples. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
“Well, maybe you should stop, because from my point of view, it’s coming off like you’re interested, even though we both know you won’t do anything about it.” My voice shakes at the end, and I wish I could take back what I said immediately. I don’t want him to know how much his words from last night affected me. How much they hurt. It feels like I’m betraying myself and opening up my heart even more to someone who doesn’t want it.
He rejected me. Simple as that. The sooner I accept my new reality, the better for both of us.
I’m not even sure why I’m so upset, especially when this is the best option for my job, but I am. Maybe it’s because I was willing to put my position as Nico’s nanny on the line for Rafael, only for him to put me right back in my place while single-handedly making me feel like a fool.
Rafael mutters something to himself in Spanish that I don’t understand before passing me an unopened can of strawberry-lemon fizzy water from the same carry-on bag. “Here.”
My heart does a little jolt at the sight, but I squash the feeling of hope with a mental fist.
If our conversation taught me anything, it’s that Rafael can be nice and thoughtful, but it is up to me to keep my head on straight and remember it can never be more than that.
I don’t protest as I throw a Dramamine pill into my mouth, take a sip of my drink, and resume our walk. We easily catch up to Nico, who remained standing in front of a gray superyacht.
“Is this it?” Nico asks.
Rafael shakes his head. “Keep going.”
Nico pauses a few boats down, this one even bigger than the last few. “What about this one?”
“No. We’re all the way down there.” Rafael points toward the end of the dock, where a yacht the size of a cruise ship is currently docked.
I stop midstride. “You’re joking.”
“Hopefully you find the size satisfactory this time.” His lips quirk.
The bastard didn’t rent a yacht to take us from Oahu to Kauai. He chartered a ship.
Nico takes off running toward it, and I follow behind him and his father, my steps mechanical and my spine stiff.
The fiberglass and metal handrails gleam under the sun, temporarily blinding me until I put on my sunglasses. A small crew waves at us from the different levels while a few of the members are already hopping off the boat and grabbing our luggage from us.
I look over at Rafael, whose eyes are hidden behind a pair of black Ray-Bans. “You chartered that to take us from here to Kauai?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that a bit…excessive?”
He shrugs. “It’s much more fun than a plane for you.”
My chest feels uncomfortably tight all of a sudden. “Please tell me you didn’t do this all for me.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
Nico grins. “But he did!”
“Nicolas,” Rafael says his name with an exasperated sigh.
“It’s true! He didn’t want you to be scared about the plane.”
I’m not sure what to make of all this. I would have survived a forty-minute flight from Oahu to Kauai, but Rafael planning this instead makes me…
Angry? Happy? So damn sad, knowing he may be thoughtful but it will never extend beyond that?
All of the above seems like a fitting answer.
Rafael sends him a scathing look that sends his son rushing up the gangway with a giggle. “See you inside!”
“You can’t say what you did last night and then do things like this anymore,” I say in a hushed whisper, not to draw attention from the crew smiling down at us.
“Why not?”
“It’s giving me emotional whiplash.”
He seems to sit with my statement for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more…cognizant of that.”
Now, I feel like a major jerk, so I offer an olive branch. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thanks to you, I can officially scratch someone rented a two-hundred-foot yacht for me off my bucket list.”
I can’t see his eyes, but I can tell he is rolling them. “Elle?”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“Yet you haven’t asked me to stop.”
I frown.
“I’m sorry for the mixed signals, but just try to enjoy it. For me, please?” He walks onto the gangway like it’s his own personal billionaire runway.
I stare at it without responding.
He sighs. “If it makes you feel any better, Nico was the one who picked this boat out.”
I look up at him. “This isn’t a boat, Rafael. It’s a vessel.”
“Well, you did ask me to charter a yacht.”
“I was joking!”
He scratches his head obnoxiously. “Huh. You seemed serious.”
I shoot him a look from behind my sunglasses as I follow him onto the back platform.
“We’re ready when you are, sir.” The captain tips his hat in Rafael’s direction.
Twenty-four hours on a yacht with Rafael and Nico sounds like a fun expedition, so what could possibly go wrong?
If I had to guess, based on the way Rafael keeps looking at me when he thinks I am not paying attention, the answer is simple.
Everything.
