Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(103)

She seems to hesitate for a second, before sitting down next to me.

“I don’t want to sound weird, but I’ve seen it all.”

“What do you mean?” I frown at her.

“Is the new guy your boyfriend?”

“How do you know?” I ask.

She laughs, and her blue eyes light up.

“I’m very observant, the advantages of being a writer, and, besides, I’ve been there.” I give her a look of disbelief, and she looks away. “Oh, believe me, being the hot guy’s girlfriend is not as great as it sounds. I can’t tell you how many times I found myself wondering if I was enough for him, or what the heck he saw in me when he had so many other options.”

Exactly.

“It’s really easy to put yourself down in a situation like this.” She turns to me. “But the reality is that love isn’t something that’s born and grows based on appearances. It needs substance to be real. Physical attraction can be the beginning of feelings, but it’ll never be enough. It’ll always need that something more, that connection that you can’t get with just anyone.”

I don’t know what to say, so she continues.

“For him, you’re that something more, that connection. Sure, there are people prettier than you, smarter than you, more talented than you, but no one is better or worse than you, and no one is you.” Silence falls between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. I nod and smile at her.

“Thank you. I feel much better.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m curious,” I begin. “Are you still the girlfriend of that handsome guy?”

“No.” She shakes her head and raises her hand, showing me her ring. “I’m his wife now.”

“Oh wow.” The joy she exudes when she says it is contagious. “You look so happy.”

“I am, but it wasn’t easy at first.”

“I wish I was more mature and didn’t get jealous, but sometimes I can’t help it,” I say. She laughs at my honesty.

“Jealousy is completely normal when you’re in love, but how you act about it is what will tell you if it’s harmful or natural.”

“You sound too wise to be so young.” I snort.

“I told you, I’ve been through a lot, and I think it helped me.”

A car passes by and parks in front of us at a safe distance. The young woman stands and brushes off her pants.

“My ride’s here,” she says.

“Your husband?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. She nods and we stand up.

“I hope I helped.” She smiles again.

“You have, really.”

I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye, and see a man getting out of the car. Virgin of Abdominals!

He’s tall, with dark eyes and messy black hair around his face. He’s wearing a dark blue suit, but the tie is half-loose as if he’s just tucked his fingers behind it, and he has a mysterious, half-hidden tattoo on his neck. The young woman lets out a giggle next to me.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?”

I blush. It wasn’t my intention to look at her husband that way. He walks over to us and looks at her with pure adoration on his face.

“Hello, strawberry,” he says, giving her a quick, short kiss.

She turns her gaze to me.

“Evan, this is Raquel, she works here.” Evan smiles kindly at me, and I see dimples forming on his cheeks.

“I hope my wife didn’t bother you too much,” he says.

“No, not at all.” I shake my head. “She just gave me some very good advice.”

He runs his hand around her shoulders.

“Yeah, she’s good at it.”

She laughs, and her whole face lights up.

“We should go. It was a pleasure, Raquel.” They start walking, when she suddenly turns around.

“Oh, by the way, my name is Jules. I’ll see you around.” I watch them tease and push each other and then hug again as they walk to the car.

What a cute couple, I think. I decide to get back to work.





FIFTY-ONE


   The Birthday




I love you . . .

It’s so easy to say, yet so difficult to express through actions.

We tend to be selfish by nature, some more than others. We want what is best for us and what benefits us. We’ve been taught to put ourselves before others, and told that if we don’t love ourselves, we can’t love someone else. And in that respect, it can become true: how much you love yourself can be reflected in your ability to love others. However, there are times when we have to put aside what we want for ourselves for the welfare of the other person. To me that is true love.

I know what Ares needs and what he really wants for his future, and I’m supporting him 100 percent. But I can’t deny that I’m terrified at the idea of separating, of losing him. Just imagining it makes my chest tighten and my stomach feel funny, but I love him, and because I love him, I have to put aside what I feel for him, for his happiness.

How fucked up is love?

I stare at the letter in my hands. I’ve been accepted to the University of North Carolina on a partial scholarship to study psychology.

I’m really happy. I can’t deny it. This is what I’ve always wanted, and there shouldn’t be anything to overshadow it. The only problem is that I want to share my happiness with Ares. I know he’ll be proud of me, but I also know that this only makes it more real that we’ll be going our separate ways when this school year is over. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but I guess that’s life.