Page 129 of The Replay

I told Dom I'd think of him in a moment like this. Something tells me he'd love it if he knew I've done more than that. I've thought about him non-stop.

That moment by the fountain replays itself over and over in my mind. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, but it's a whole movie in my mind. Despite not telling me much at all, he looked at me with such passion and conviction I'm roped into the moment.

Two days into the holiday break, and he got what he wanted. If the way I miss him, the way I think about him every second I get is any sign, it's clear I didn't keep my emotions out of our arrangement. Now I'm swallowed by questions I can't answer.

Except he gave me clear instructions. What do I want? That's what he wants me to figure out next.

My stomach swirls. I clutch the wooden edge under my hands until my knuckles whiten. The one thing I know is that if I could, I wouldn't want to feel pain from ending things either. But if humans knew how to prevent it, we all would. We don't know, and I don't know either.

I welcome the steps that appear at my back.

"Hermanita." Cora sits by my side. "I hope you're okay with some company."

Maisie sits at my other side. "Cora saw you come out of the house and decided we could use some sisterly time before Christmas dinner."

In this part of the world, not everyone has a formal dinner quite the way our family does it. My parents have always been good about blending cultures and traditions, but Christmas is Mom's affair. She grew up celebrating it in the Latinamerican style, and so do we. A big dinner on the 24th, and opening presents at midnight. The next morning is a time to rest and get cozy, and enjoy the small gifts we give each other— mostly books, since we became adults— and a good, belly-filling brunch.

My parents don't cook any of it, of course.

"Do you know what the chefs are making?" I ask.

Cora shrugs. "No idea, but it will be good."

"We'll have to go change soon." Maisie's accent has always been the most British of all of us. "So I'm curious why you'd choose this time to come out and sit on the dock. You've been pensive, Mariana."

I give her a sideways glance. "You could say that."

"What's going on?" she asks.

I look out to the water. Several small islands emerge from the sea, peppering the horizon, and it's a lovely view. The sun moves slower up here in this corner of the world. Clouds cover the width of the sky. Yet enough empty space survives that most of them turn a beautiful gold at this time of day.

"Did Cora tell you anything?" I cock my head at her.

Maisie shakes her head and covers her shoulders tighter in her thick shawl. It's a cold evening, but I like it that way.

"I respected your privacy," Cora says. "Of course."

"I'd love it if you told me." Maisie's mouth curls up at the corner. "Sweeter that way."

I sigh and look out to the ocean again. "Remember Dom? My college boyfriend?"

"Do I remember him?" Maisie chuckles. "I know he plays for the team you two work for. And Mom has mentioned him enough that I know there's something going on."

"Not denying there's something going on," I say. "But what has Mom said?"

"She's been asking me if I'd be willing to keep running the charity if you decided to stay in Seattle."

The world shifts a few degrees. I can't answer. This basically confirms what I suspected. My mom— perhaps my parents— thought I'd backtrack from my plans.

"I said yes, by the way." Maisie leans closer to me, until we're shoulder to shoulder. "You and I have these plans and I'm excited but, if I knew you're happy in Seattle, I wouldn't begrudge you for pursuing that."

"I'm not planning to stay," I say.

"Why the fuck not?" Cora asks. "You like working for the Strike, I think. And you are happy with Dom, are you not?"

"I am! But it doesn't mean it will last. And it means Mom and Dad will— theywill—"

"Who cares, Mariana." Cora leans forward until she makes it through to my eyesight.