The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N
G
oing through the motions of disembarking the aircraft, getting
through customs, and picking up our luggage felt a little bit like one
of those strange dreams where everything around you felt fuzzy and
unreal, but there was a part of you, deep down in your
consciousness, that knew it wasn’t real.
Only this time, it was. And the loud thump, thump, thump in my ears was
evidence of just how much.
And yet, as much as that part of me kept repeating that I would wake up
while my heart kept screaming that I already was and that this was really
happening, the moment the Arrivals gate came into view, my whole body
froze with realization.
My suitcase wheels screeched against the floor as my two feet became
rooted to the floor. Breath stuck in my throat, I watched the gates opening
and closing, letting out whoever had been walking ahead of us.
I glanced at Aaron, who had been walking beside me but was now a
couple of steps ahead. My overpacked bag hung off his shoulder again.
“Aaron,” I croaked, that thump, thump, thump growing louder and louder.
“I can’t do it.”
Feeling as if my lungs had been filled with cement, I brought a hand to
my chest. “Ay Dios.” I heaved. “Ay Dios mío.”
How had I let this get so far?
What was I going to do if everything blew up in my face?
What if I made it all worse?
I was crazy. No, I was plain stupid. And I wanted to punch myself in the
face. Maybe that would snap me out of it.