Page 59 of The Replay

"See?" she continues. "Romantic love isn't part of what my parents value in any way. It's not a goal you can control and it's not measurable. Love is something that may or may not happen, that may come from the time you spend together with someone or not, but which can't compare to how quantifiable success is. A career. And you know my parents' story. Both of them come from families who lost everything. Nothing compares to the security of what you have achieved."

"It's so sad," I admit.

Mariana didn't tell me every detail, but she told me her dad's family had its roots in Scotland, and suffered a lot through the years of English ruling, until his family moved to London during the Industrial Revolution. Her mom, on the other hand, had to escape Chile with her parents after the military coup in the seventies.

But if I'm honest, my sadness is also for Mariana and me, and how all of this still affects us today, so many generations later.

She shakes her head. "It's all about that sense of safety, I think. Now that we have so much, it's also about the work you can do for others, when you have all your ducks in a row. But, romance? That's just some extra decoration on a cake.Nice to have, but you can do without. Especially compared to the promise of everything you can seize in life, when you never stop reaching for the moon."

They didn't dislike me. It wasn't about me, but the fact I was poor and lacked connections, or even the ambition to go for more than rings and glory. What would I do with what I got? Sure, her brothers are professional athletes too, but they had the family business as a backup and as their post-retirement future. Me? No guarantees. They thought my aspirations were too small, and my chances even more so. So how far could I really go?

"I know we're a complicated family," she says, "but I love them. I know they love me. In their own way, they were pushing me for the brightest future they could see. My parents made a million hard choices while building themselves up and they wanted me— my siblings and me— to do the same. I grew up hearing them say they've given us more than most people have, and that we owe it to ourselves and the world to take it farther than our wildest dreams. That was never meant to involve the illusion of a love affair."

"Mari."

My heart softens further, weighed down by her words and the pain in her eyes. I can't stop myself. I wrap an arm around her and bring her close. She lets me. I kiss her hair.

She didn't love Henry but, by the time she married him, she'd adopted her family's view of love. If I had said what I felt when she graduated, I might have had a chance. When I got drafted? We were incompatible by then.

She burrows into me and, when she speaks, her voice comes barely above a whisper. "I loved you so much, Dom. And I promise, I told them you were amazing. Every chance I got. I defended your ambitions and I told them over and over that you'd go far. And you have. But back then, they thought I was seeing you through rose-colored glasses. Over and over, they reminded me love wasn't a reason to not pursue my dreams, if those took me elsewhere."

She leans back so she can look me in the eye. All my walls are down, and I caress her face with a gentle pass of my knuckles.

"I had promised to go to London," she adds. "That I'd take over the family charity and run it. I wanted to do it. Really, I did. For so long, the idea thrilled me. That I'd get to be the one of my siblings entrusted with it… Working with Maisie as my right hand, and maybe getting to the point we could go international… You knew my dreams. I shared them with you."

"I remember. Yeah. From our first date. You shone when you spoke of it."

"But when graduation came and you and I faced the breakup we always knew was coming— well, it seemed like I had no choice but to go on the path I had promised to follow. You and I were never meant to fall in love the way we did, anyway."

I close my eyes for as long as it takes me to let out a deep sigh.

Te debí creer, Ma. I should have believed my mom from the start.

"No," I admit. "We thought it would be a whirlwind romance for the ages. Something to write in our memoirs when we were old enough."

"But we fell hard, and I don't know if that means we were right or if it means we failed."

"And then…" I swallow. "Then I let you go."

Those final days broke me. Helping her pack while tears ran down her face, because I thought that's how I could love her best. Holding her close until she fell asleep each night. Soothing her pain and making it all mine, so I could free her from its burden.

I couldn't eat for a week, after dropping her off at the airport.

She rests her head on my shoulder again. "I'm honestly so furious with myself for choosing Henry and what he offered, and not what I said I wanted. I had already sacrificed you, and us, for the family charity. But I should have known better. I was still torn up about my feelings for you and— argh."

She shakes her head. It's a slow movement that travels from her to me, finding the path of least resistance until it burrows right in the middle of my chest.

I can't help it. I put a hand on her thigh and rub.

"I thought it made me silly," she continues. "I thought those feelings didn't let me feel the right things for him. I should have found him charming because he was. And I should have been enchanted because he tried. My parents certainly fell for him. And suddenly my future was even bigger and brighter— the things I could do married to him. The kind of charity work I'd do as a part of his family was at another level. I could maybe even try to change policy and… I got wrapped up in all of that. So I let Maisie take over as CEO of our organization and I went to work with Henry's family instead. Ugh. Looking back, it wasn't worth it."

And the whole time, I killed myself with training so I could get a good contract. Pushing myself to the limits, because being the best and getting signed wouldn't make me perfect in her parents' eyes, but it would get me closer. Counting on that second chance without her knowing. Fuck. Not that it would have made a difference, when I was out of the race already for the things she wanted in life. I understand that now.

I hurt for who we were six years ago. And me, for not being chosen among all of that. But I think I can be okay with it today. And the pain of it, well… I think it means I'm not angry anymore.

We were done, and I was the only one who didn't know.

Now all I have left is picking up the pieces of my heart again, mending them somehow, so I can go back to the life I claimed for myself after everything.