“So does Marco,” he snapped back, and his shot was true and lodged itself right in my heart. That was painful.
And correct.
I went back into the bedroom and curled up on the bed, waiting for Marco to return. I wanted a chance to explain. To tell him how my feelings had changed. That I wanted him, not his brother.
But then I went back to the place I always did—my fears and insecurities. Just because Marco was nice and liked kissing me didn’t mean he had feelings for me. What would he do when I told him?
If I told him. Despite my earlier decision, I didn’t think I could go through with it. I wouldn’t risk losing him. He was too important to me.
Catalina was right. Given enough time, I would talk myself out of almost anything.
I was broken, not sure how to mend myself or my relationships. I didn’t know how to navigate a conversation with him where I was messy and vulnerable and myself. Science had rules. You followed them, and things turned out the way they were supposed to. But I didn’t know the rules here. How to keep Marco in my life, even if he didn’t feel the same way that I did.
That was my main fear. That Marco could never love me like I loved him. And him saying that to me, that would destroy me. Utter destruction, laying waste to my heart and soul.
I didn’t know what to do. And I hated this feeling. Not sure how to move forward, not able to go back. Just stuck.
While I was still wrestling with my choices, trying to figure out the right thing to do, I wound up falling asleep.
The next morning, I woke up to him coming out of the bathroom. His expression was flat.
“Marie-Angelique called last night. There’s an issue with one of our suppliers. I’d hoped that it would work itself out, but it hasn’t. I have to go back to California today.”
“Oh. Okay.” I thought of how awful I must have looked and tried to pat my hair down.
He seemed so serious, so unlike my Marco. This must have been what Catalina had initially been referring to, when we first started talking about him. I’d never known this guy. Was this solely about work? Or did it have something to do with Craig and me last night?
Was he jealous?
That was a good thing. It meant that there might be something else there.
“You’re welcome to stay,” he said.
“No, I don’t want that. I want to go back. With you.” There was zero chance I was going to stay in the Kimball house without him.
This seemed to surprise him. “Good. Well, get packed. The car is going to be here in about twenty minutes.”
That wasn’t enough time, but I was eager to put all of this behind me. Maybe when we got back to Los Angeles, things would go back to the way they were. Not entirely as they were, because I didn’t want to forget about that kiss in the library, but I did want things to be easy and comfortable between Marco and me again.
But that’s not what happened.
Marco was polite but distant the entire trip home. In the car, on the plane. He dropped me off at my grandparents’ home and didn’t even get out to say a proper goodbye to me.
The whole rest of the week, he was too busy to meet with me. I hated this. I missed him so much that I physically ached. Catalina had been right again—he had obviously been clearing his schedule to spend time with me.
Or he was filling it up now so as to avoid me. Either way, I didn’t like it.
He always answered my texts, polite and encouraging for the upcoming pitch, but what we had was gone.
I had no idea how to get it back. Why things had changed. I needed my Marco back.
Was he angry about the Craig thing? Catalina kept encouraging me to just talk to Marco, but I couldn’t when he was being distant like this.
Not to mention that I couldn’t have him turn me down and then still manage to pitch my company to his family. It was better to be in this in-between state than risk everything that both he and I had been working toward. If Marco was going to break my heart, he could do it after we got a decision on the company. I didn’t want to ruin it for me, but I didn’t want to ruin it for him, either.
But that didn’t stop me from thinking about him constantly, wanting to be close to him again.
One night, while I was sobbing, watching Aragorn and Arwen reunite, I called Catalina.
“Who do I need to stab?” she asked when she heard my voice.
“I’m in love with Marco.” It was the first time I had said it out loud.
“And Bingo was his name-o,” she said sarcastically. “Let me translate that for you. Duh.”
“You’re not going to say you told me so?”
“Nope. Just kaboom, like I promised you.”
“When you said this would blow up in my face, I thought you meant that Craig would find out and that was how I would get my heart destroyed.”
“No. I could see what was happening between you and Marco, even when you couldn’t.”
“Then why is he being this way?” I whined, feeling pathetic.
“My theory is because he loves you and he thinks you’re in love with his brother.”
“How could anyone think that? Craig sucks.”
“Uh, I don’t know, because you’ve spent the last two years saying you were?”
This was an excellent point. I hadn’t told Marco that my feelings about Craig had changed. He was still operating under that assumption. Would it make a difference? “But why do you think Marco loves me?”
“Anna, you’re an amazing person. Everybody should be in love with you. Even that jerk Craig. You need to tell Marco how you feel so that he can make a choice after he has all the facts.”
I shook my head. “I just can’t believe that someone like him would feel that way about someone like me.”
“That is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I once had to listen to Steve explain how the WWE is real.”
That made me sit straight up in my bed. So far, Catalina was batting a thousand. An expression I only knew because of Marco. Maybe I should trust her over my own insecurities. “Aren’t you the one who is always telling me not to say I love you first? Never pull that trigger unless fired upon first?”
“That’s advice for me,” she said, exasperated. “Not you. I think he needs to hear it.”
He needed to hear all of it. I was afraid, but my grandma had once said that bravery wasn’t the absence of fear but pushing on in spite of it. I had to tell him how my feelings had changed. He didn’t have all the facts. He couldn’t make choices if he didn’t have all the information.
There was a giant lump in my throat, but I could do this. I could. “Right. So I’ll tell Marco. I’ll do the presentation, and then his dad is going to make me an offer, and I’ll pull him aside and tell him everything.” It seemed like a good plan. Mostly because there was no way I could confess my love to him, have him tell me he wasn’t interested, and then keep it together long enough for my pitch.
And if he didn’t love me back, well, I would blow up that bridge when I came to it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was the morning of the pitch, and it had been arranged to be at Minx Cosmetics. I’d spent my solitary week practicing it in the mirror and refining my formula. I felt confident in both. I paced back and forth, going over the words. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’ve come here today to share with you the newest innovation for the future and how I hope to build a company based on the science of neurocosmetics.”