Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(94)

But years of therapy had taught her that an individual needed to possess the desire to achieve positive change in their own life. There was nothing she could say or do that would make any difference if Luis didn’t want to let go of his fear.

And that’s what this all boiled down to. Fear.

This strong, compassionate man who willingly ran into burning buildings to save others was too afraid to save himself. Too afraid to let the past go and live fully in the present. Even if, as much as it hurt, that meant without her.

“I’m not Mirna. I don’t need saving,” Sara told him, pressing a hand to her chest and the ache building there. “And I’m not your brother. In fact, I’ve been more than honest with you. I’ve trusted you with my biggest fears and secrets. Luis, I want to be with you, for more than just this week.”

She rose off the bed, chin high. Defiant, in spite of the pain engulfing her. “But I need someone who’s capable of being my true partner. If you can’t forgive whoever or whatever it is you need to forgive so you’re no longer living with one foot in the past and one in the present, then by all means, finish your packing and go. Leave.” Her voice cracked as she gestured toward the door, certain if he walked through it he’d be taking her heart with him. “Because just like I said downstairs, I deserve better.”

Luis stared at her intently, his expression a battle between misery and stoicism.

Every moment together . . . running into him at the airport, their first question and answer game, dancing at Mallory Square, late night talks in bed, playing dominoes and cards with her family, taking that first intimate step at South Beach, making passionate and tender and wild and sweet love, their silly Would You Rather game, familia dinner dodging marriage questions from his mami, titillating caresses on his boat today . . . they all tumbled through her mind like images in a video stuck on fast forward mode, speed racing to the end.

Only, she wanted them to keep replaying it. Reliving it all over again, together.

Her heart ached. Her insides clenched with fear and need. Every part of her tensed with anticipation and she prayed he would find it in him to trust her. Trust himself.

Luis pushed up off the shelf desk and snagged his duffel off the bed. Not even bothering to zip it closed, he hooked the bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“You’re absolutely right; you deserve better.”

Sara’s heart shattered, the sharp pieces ricocheting in her chest, leaving her wounded and bleeding.

“Take care of yourself, Sara,” he said, his deep voice low, earnest. Sad.

The door clicked closed behind him and Sara slumped onto the bed.

She had done the right thing. Put herself out there. Asked him to meet her halfway. He simply didn’t want to.

The pain of Luis’s rejection consumed her. Tears burned her throat and eyes, falling in hot trails down her cheeks. She gave in to them. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that came from a soul weary of not being enough for those she loved.

A tiny voice insisted that she was enough. She told herself that she would listen to it. Tomorrow. Tonight, the pain was too strong. Her tears fell faster.

Sometime later, her bedroom door creaked open and Sara peeked through her swollen eyes to find her mother tiptoeing inside. She crawled on the bed beside Sara and hugged her spoon-fashion.

“You cry all you want, sweetie. Mom’s here for you.”

Fresh tears soaked Sara’s pillow and she hugged her mother’s arms tighter.





Chapter 21


Luis turned down Eaton Street and sped away from the Vances’ rental home, his head in a tailspin. His chest felt like an aluminum can that had been run over and crushed by a ladder truck. Twice.

What the hell had just happened?

In the blink of his fucking eyes, the day had gone from “best ever list” potential to total shit show.

Reeling from the reality that his entire world had bottomed out, he crooked his elbow on the driver’s side windowpane and cradled his head in his hand.

As if he were walking through a call to file his report in the aftermath of a fire, he repeated the sequence of actions and dialogue that had led to his current situation. Him, alone in his truck; Sara, back at the house a devastated expression on her beautiful face.

One minute they were kissing on the front porch with him marveling at her strength of character, her ability to make that first move with her sister. The payoff it brought her.

The next, they were up in their room . . . her room . . . him feeling like a caged animal, agitated, uneasy. Scared.

His gaze cut to his black duffel, one of his running shoes teetering at the opening. About to fall onto the passenger seat where he’d tossed the bag in his haste to leave.

Shit, he’d done it. Left. Walked out. Turned his back on her. On the best thing that had happened to him in his life.

What the hell had he done?

Drowning in his own stupidity, he nearly blew through the red light at Duval. At the last second, he slammed on the brakes. The truck tires screeched to a halt on the hot asphalt. An older gentleman waiting to cross at the corner with his wife glared at Luis and wagged his finger, a reprimand for driving too fast in a heavily pedestrian part of town.

Rightfully chastened, Luis dipped his head in apology.

Sheesh. This was a new low for the infamous San Navarro. Pissing off old people he didn’t even know.

Hurting the one person who had made him finally start to feel whole.