Page 33 of The Catch

"I don't want to go back with him." I take a breath. "I want to understand why it failed, so I can choose better next time. I want to figure out if I ever loved him— if what I felt was love at all— because there's a reason I'm irritated and not heartbroken. I want to take my time and figure out what I need to change in me so this doesn't happen again. I want to make a plan to rescue my things from his condo. I want to come up with a solution so I don't have to fire people from my kitchen."

"Fuck Aidan," Pablo says. "You're amazing, Ames."

There's power in saying things out loud. My voice agitates the particles in my chest. They rearrange inside of me, until they find a new home between my cells.

I gaze at Pablo. "Thanks, hermanito."

He rubs my shoulder and smiles at me.

Saint's eyes are steady on me, his face unreadable for once.

I hold his gaze. In the month I've been here, I've learned to care about his opinion. I want his thoughts, too, and he gets it.

"My parents are still together." He sighs. "They married right out of high school. Had me less than a year later. As a teenager, I knew they were unhappy. I heard the fights. I saw the cold looks. But they stayed together. Having a kid insports is expensive, and they couldn't do that and maintain separate households at the same time. So they stuck to it. For me. For years, I was the only reason they wore a ring and shared a room."

He stares out the window at the city below us, and those dark swatches of shadow where the lake waits for the sun to show up again. Saint is an expressive person. Even when all I can see is his profile, it's clear he's lost in the past.

"I don't remember seeing things change." A wrinkle shows up at the top of his nose. "I just know that for my prom night, I saw them kiss again. When we heard about my college football scholarship, they hugged and I just knew— they were better. Only a couple months later, they were pregnant with my little twin sisters."

He shakes his head. It's his turn to have all of our attention.

"When I see them now," he continues, "I think they're happy. I see them being affectionate. My sisters are going to have such different memories but, me? I can only wonder at whatever helped them fall in love a second time. How did they end up choosing each other again? Despite having seen things in each other they disliked. Maybe even hurt one other. What does it take?"

He turns to me again. That rare frown that showed up at his brow stays, making his eyes heavy as he gazes at me.

"Your parents divorced," he says. "Mine didn't. What I've learned from all of it is that it's hard to make love last. Most people can't… or won't. It's not only finding the right person who wants you back. It's both of them having the persistence, the emotional resilience to push through, thedesireto make it work. To do every single thing they can to avoid wounding the other. No single person can make it happen— it has to be both choosing each other every day. Doing the right thing at the right time, even if that means letting them go. But if they want to try, I don't know. I don't think you should force it. You can't make someone love you, after all."

Every beat of my heart takes a word and blends it with my blood. I don't exactly know why this seems so important, but I don't hesitate. I carry his comments in my red cells, right alongside the oxygen that keeps me alive.

"If you don't want him back," he adds, "then don't do it. I'll text the guys. You'll have your own entourage when you go back to Aidan's place to collect your things. You know how big we all are? We're going to intimidate Aidan into making things easier for you."

"Thank you," I hear myself say.

Next thing I know, Saint texts with his friend group and I have a date to go get my things from Aidan's place.

Chapter 13

Saint

Pablo has to leave early the next day, and insists he would rather pick up breakfast on the way to the airport. Ames won't have it, and she refuses to let him leave without at least a home made sandwich and a coffee.

She gets busy in the kitchen, and Pablo rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he says. "Saint, come with me to get my carry-on? It's still in the room."

He slept on the small sofa bed in front of Ames' bed. Last night, she and Pablo bickered about who would sleep on the bed, and the sound reminded me of my ten-year-old twin sisters. At the end, he won and took the smaller piece of furniture. Ames may have pretended to be upset, but I knew better. The way her face softened while looking at her brother, she harbored no annoyance. All I could see was affection and gratitude to have him there.

It softened my heart to see it, too. I still can see it.

Ames butters lightly toasted bread. "Go. Grab your things. I need five more minutes."

I follow Pablo to the guest room. I'm not sure what his plan is, but I doubt he needs a bodyguard to get his things.

"Hey." He stands next to the small suitcase. "I wanted to thank you."

I was right. I don't say anything, but cross my arms and lift an eyebrow.

"You know how much Ames means to me," he says. "When I left town, you promised to keep an eye on her. I never thought it would come to something like this, but… thank you. Thanks for taking care of my sister."