Page 42 of The Replay

The pool room has three narrow, long windows on the wall. They help bring in natural light to the tiled space, and I stand outside to look through them and study the view before going in. I find Dom right away. He's sitting in one of the pools. He's smiling, holding his phone to his ear.

The expression on his face strikes me. Before his call woke me up that morning, this is how I would see him in my memories. Relaxed. Kind eyes. Bright, generous smile. So approachable. Incredibly hot and confident for it all. Tonight, he looks exactly like that, except a slightly-older version of the man I fell in love with.

That vault I built inside of me after we talked on the phone years ago— it cracks. A simple hairline fracture that steals my breath.

I don't get a chance to look at it or panic. He lifts his eyes at me, feigning the ability to sense my presence. The mix of memories and his eyes on me— they harpoon into my chest. It twists, when his smile loses several degrees of warmth.

My stomach drops but I make myself open the door and go through it.

"Qué? No, tranquila," he says to the phone. "But yeah, I have to go."

I bite my bottom lip. He's not looking at me anymore. With his free hand, he's rubbing his scalp.

"No, mamá. Don't worry. It's, err… someone from work. Doesn't matter."

His words add a full punch in the middle of my chest. Even if I deserve it, after the way I talked to my mom about him. Except I didn't think he'd hearme, so why should I have censored myself? Unless talking about him like that behind his back makes it worse, rather than better…

Okay, now I'm at risk of spiraling. I'm overthinking everything. My anxiety is really starting to act up.

"Te hablo mañana?" he continues. "Or I can come have dinner with you and abuela. Yeah? Perfect. Text me. Bye."

He places his phone on a towel folded on top of a stool. The water covers up to his shoulders, once he puts both arms back in the pool. His eyes are on me, tracking me like he believes I might jump in the water with him.

"Still close to your mom?" I ask, standing somewhere between the doors and him.

I met her a few times, alongside his grandmother. They were kind people, even if they would give me suspicious looks, and seemed to think I was from another planet. I was rich and they weren't. According to Dom at the time, they couldn't make sense of it. Of us. Regardless, I'm sure she would have recognized my name, had Dom chosen to tell her about me. But he didn't, and I don't want to be hurt by it.

He nods. "It's just the three of us."

"You brought them with you to Seattle?"

He nods again. "Of course. We have always stayed together."

Even back then, his dad wasn't in the picture, and Dom didn't keep in touch with the man who gave him nothing more than a last name. Maybe that's why he has trouble accepting when people leave. Huh. I wonder if he's made that connection.

"Can I help you?" Dom asks.

The question holds as much reluctance as it does careful politeness.

I laugh. "Who the hell knows, Dom. After what we did…"

"So we're talking about it."

He gets out of the pool. I let the sounds of cascading water be the only thing I notice about the moment, and stay put while he dries. Okay, I notice thesounds, and the way light hits a patch on his chest in such a way, I know he has a transparent bandage on his pec.

He got a new tattoo.

"We must talk about it," I say.

"It's not happening again."

"Absolutely not. But Cam and Luke are playing here next week, and my mom is asking again to tell her how many friends I'm inviting, and I can't show up with no friends, so I'm inviting yours. They're so nice, and I know you don't want me getting too close, but I don't know anyone else yet, so we can cope, right?"

I'm rambling, which is anxiety showing up again but, dammit. If I'm having this conversation, I'm not worrying about that too. One concern at a time, please.

"If I'm inviting your friends," I continue, "I can't not invite you. My mom knows you're a part of the group. But the whole thing is going to be too awkward, and we can't even let some steam off with bickering because now we know where that leads us. So what can possibly be the plan here?"

"Easy." He clears his throat. "I'll be busy with something else."