29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Cat

The morning sun assaults my eyes as I stumble into Leo's kitchen, my head pounding like a jackhammer on steroids. I make a beeline for the coffee maker, fumbling with the buttons as if they're written in hieroglyphics.

I lean against the counter, rubbing my temples, the events of last night replaying in my mind like a bad movie.

The hospital released my grandmother after midnight and we came to Leo’s house. Luckily, my grandmother didn’t put up too much of a fight, relenting when we pointed out the time. And I also added the guilt trip about Nora having to have Leo’s kids stay over unexpectedly.

Before the phone call from the hospital, my date with Leo had been going perfectly. I’d been worried beforehand it might fall flat, that while we have feelings for one another and off the charts chemistry, that maybe the romance would be bleh.

It was the opposite.

Conversation came naturally, silences were comfortable, and for once in my life, it was easy to open up. To share my personal life without fear of being judged.

"Mierda," I mutter, finally managing to get the damn thing brewing. The rich aroma of coffee fills the air, providing a small comfort in this clusterfuck of a morning, because God only knows what shitstorm I’m going face when it comes to my grandmother.

I just can’t do this anymore with her.

"Such language, mi nieta."

I whirl around, nearly knocking over my half-filled mug. There she sits at the kitchen island, looking fresh as a fucking daisy in her neatly pressed blouse and perfectly coiffed hair. How the hell does she do it after a night in the hospital?

Especially in the same clothes she had on yesterday.

I rub the center of my chest. “Think I should put a bell on you. Had enough scares for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

Her eyes widen, but that stubborn set of her jaw tells me she's gearing up for a fight. "Ay, Catharina, always so dramatic. It was nothing but a little dizzy spell."

I grab my now-full coffee mug, taking a long swig before responding. The scalding liquid burns my tongue, but I barely notice. "A little dizzy spell? Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

“Language.”

I set my mug down with a loud thunk. “You passed out—again—in the hallway. Your neighbor found you.”

She waves her hand dismissively. "That woman needs to mind her own business. Made a big thing out of nothing. There was no reason for her to call 911."

“Do you have any idea how scared I was! How scared I am all the time because of you!”

My grandmother’s expression softens for a millisecond before that familiar stubbornness takes over. "I'm fine, Catharina. Stop making such a fuss."

I rake my fingers through my tangled hair, resisting the urge to scream. "I can't stop making a fuss when you're playing Russian roulette with your health. You’re going into assisted living."

Her eyes narrow to slits. "I agreed to look at some places. I did not agree to go."

"Abuela—"

“I said no, and I have my wits about me so you cannot force me. And I took my pills correctly. I made sure.”

My eyes narrow; I place a hand on my hip. “Then how come you got dizzy? How come you passed out?”

She levels me with a glare of her own. “And how do you know whether my dosage might need adjusting? It could’ve happened just the same in an assisted living facility too.”

I growl, slapping the granite countertop of the kitchen island. She’s right. The doctor said her levels were low, and it is possible her dosage is incorrect. But one thing she doesn’t do is miss her cardiology appointments . . . if only because she thinks her doctor is handsome.

Regardless, we’re going in fucking circles, and the pressure in my head is building. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t run out of work, can’t be afraid every time the phone rings, can’t be anxious when it doesn’t.”

“Then stop worrying.”

I throw my hands up in the air and walk over to the fridge to grab the eggs, slamming the door when I’m done.

“Mi nieta—”

“Enough.” Leo’s voice booms through the kitchen.

I nearly drop the carton of eggs, and even my grandmother flinches. Leo strides into the room like a Viking entering a village he’s about to annihilate.

And fucking hell, he looks hot.

His hair is mussed from sleep, his jaw set in determination, and there's a fire in his eyes that makes my stomach do a little flip.

“Rosa, we have tried to be respectful of your choices, but at this point you only have two because I am done watching Cat fall apart.”

My grandmother turns to him, eyebrow raised in challenge. "Oh?"

"You have two options. Either you move in here and we hire a full-time health aide to assist you, or you move into an assisted living facility."

I blink rapidly, staring at him, mouth agape. When I finally process his words, I take a step closer. “Leo, this is your home. She—”

Whatever glare he had aimed at my grandmother is now focused on me. “I’m giving her a choice. And yes, this is my home to do with as I choose. So, if I want to put the offer out there, then that is my right.” He turns back to my grandmother. “And make no mistake, there will be no chasing anyone out.”

Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I love your granddaughter. And I know you value your independence, but I cannot stand by and let you hurt her. Do you realize that’s what you’re doing?”

She opens her mouth to argue, but Leo holds up a hand, silencing her.

Holy shit.

A lump forms in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. My hand flattens on my chest, tears forming in the corner of my eyes as this amazing—and somewhat scary right now—man takes charge to protect my well-being.

"I lost my wife, and I know what it's like to watch someone you love slip away. I won't let Cat go through that for as long as I can prevent it. So please, for her sake if not your own, consider what I'm saying."

The kitchen falls silent, and I swallow hard, my pulse loud in my ears. Yeah, my caffeine headache is still there, but this also feels like an out-of-body experience. Actually, I have no idea what this really feels like.

I don’t want to say I don’t have people who’d fight for me, fight for my grandmother, because Nora and Wyatt would. Or at least I hope they would. And I have no doubt that Leo would too.

But to actually have it happen. To see it happening.

That’s something else entirely. I fan my face with my hand, trying to dry the tears threatening to fall.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

My grandmother’s words break the dam and now I’m crying, unable to hold back. I reach across the counter and take her hand. “You’re not a burden, and if you want to stay here, I’ll concede to that.”

She shakes her head and then looks at Leo. “I gave you my word I would take a look at some of those places. But I will take it seriously and look at the ones I would actually consider moving into.”

I jerk back, sure I must have misheard. "I'm sorry. What was that? Did Rosa Lucia Alonso just admit defeat? Quick, someone check if pigs are flying."

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Don't push your luck."

I quickly put the eggs back into the fridge and guzzle my now lukewarm coffee, then I turn to Leo. “Um, think your mom might be able to take care of the kids today?”

He nods.

My grandmother looks at me. “Catharina, no need to rush.”

“Oh, no. We’re doing this. Right now. Before you try to back out.”

Leo chuckles, pressing a kiss to my temple before standing up. "Let me go call my mom."

As he walks out of the kitchen, I grab my laptop from my bag on the counter and bring it to the island, taking a seat next to my grandmother. “Okay, I’ve bookmarked a few places. Maybe we can tour some of them today.”

We scroll through a few. My grandmother makes faces at some. When we land on one that has weekly salsa classes and a pool, she peers more intently at the screen. "It's . . . not hideous."

“Are you looking at the actual facility, or the model they have as the lifeguard in the background?”

She chuckles. “Do you think I won’t be considering the staff when we visit?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Abuela, you cannot make a decision based on who you consider eye-candy.”

As we dive back into our search, trading quips and arguing over amenities, I can't help but feel a sense of hope blooming in my chest. This morning started as a nightmare, but now it feels like the beginning of something new. Something hopeful.

It's fragile, like a newborn butterfly, but it's there.