Hold on. That meant—
“I haven’t met him in person. Not yet.”
He hadn’t met Aaron in person yet?
I—
No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
But then, he said, “I didn’t have the pleasure of attending the wedding.”
Confirming that this could, indeed, be happening. And just like that, none of my earlier shock or embarrassment measured to what I started feeling right that moment.
Because this man was not a random intruder, or a deranged individual that had stumbled upon my best friend’s apartment.
This man I’d called the cops on was Lina’s relative.
And it didn’t stop there. No. He had to be the one cousin that hadn’t met Aaron.
The one person out of the long list of Lina’s Spanish relatives that had missed the wedding.
He had to be him.
“I heard it was a great party,” he said. And it felt like a physical blow to my chest. “Too bad I missed it.”
Without really knowing how, I realized I was now clutching the handle of the entrance door. As if his words—the realization that it was him—had somehow brought me there and compelled the fingers of my free hand to wrap tightly around it.
It can’t be him, a voice chanted in my head. I can’t be so unlucky.
But it was. I knew it was. And kismet, destiny, luck, or whatever force in charge of deciding my fate, had packed its bags and left me to fend for myself.
Because this man was the one cousin I had secretly hoped would be at the wedding. The only one who had made my stomach flutter with anticipation at the simple thought of meeting him. Of getting those two mandatory cheek kisses from him. Of exchanging pleasantries. Of perhaps dancing with him. Of having him see me in my maid of honor gown. Of finally having him in front of me.
Of the possibilities.
My fingers moved and the door unlocked with a click.
Heart sprinting with the knowledge of this man really being him, I grabbed the handle. Anxiously, eagerly, hope clogging my throat. All the foolishness of whatever my head had fabricated in the months leading to the wedding tangled with new emotions from the mess I’d just made. Anticipation mixed with guilt. Embarrassment coiled around excitement.
Chest pounding, I threw the door open, and…
Something dropped at my feet.
I looked down, my eyes immediately finding the source of the thump.
He was lying on his back. As if he’d been resting his weight on the door and fell backward when I’d opened it.
Air seemed to barely get in my lungs as I took in a head toppled with wavy chestnut locks. It didn’t match the image neatly kept in my memory. Memory, or the screenshot I secretly kept in my phone. I’d only seen him with a buzz cut.
“It’s really you,” I heard myself mumble as I stared at him. “You’re really here. And your hair is different. Longer and—”
I clasped my mouth shut, feeling an intense blush covering my cheeks.
The handsome face I had looked at through the screen of my phone more times than I’d ever be ready to admit twisted with a puzzled look. But just as quickly, chocolate-brown eyes twinkled with a smile. “Have we… met before?”
“No,” I rushed out. “Obviously. I meant you look different from what I expected. You know, from your voice. That’s all.” I shook my head. “And I’m—God. I’m sorry. For all of this. I just—”
You just what, Rosie?
The blush spread to the tips of my ears, and I thought that if the ground under my feet were to open and swallow me right this moment—something I knew now was not that unlikely—I’d go willingly.
“I’m just so sorry,” I breathed out. “Can I help you up? Please.”
But he—the man who didn’t even know I existed, but whose features I was able to summon in my mind if I closed my eyes—didn’t give any indication of being in a rush to stand up. Instead, his gaze inspected my face, taking his time, as if I were the one that had just popped out of nowhere and dropped at his feet.
And just when I thought I’d collected myself enough to say something else—hopefully marginally smart—his lips stretched. That puzzled look dissolved completely, giving way to a smile, and whatever words had climbed to my mouth crumbled.
Because he was smiling. And it was big and bright and, quite frankly, beautiful in this blatant way you don’t really know what to do with.
Possibly more than the smile he wore on the one screenshot I had allowed myself to keep and might still look at occasionally.