Page 56 of When Javi Dumped Mari

Javi

Eight Years and Five Months Before the Wedding

As the apartment building’s elevator descends to the lobby, I touch my lips, as if I can recapture the feeling of Mari’s mouth on mine. Last night was both a fever dream and a nightmare. I kissed Mari. And it was everything I ever wanted distilled to its essence.

A moment of absolute clarity.

A moment when nothing but the two of us mattered.

A moment when all the doubts I carry like an overstuffed backpack faded away.

Maybe Mari saw the panic in my eyes. Perhaps she was panicking herself.

Because the next thing I knew she was laughing at the bar with a guy who was plainly into her, that mind-blowing moment between us long forgotten.

Good thing I’m leaving today. The distance will help us get back on track.

She’ll be busy being a stellar law student, and I’ll be busy… trying to find a damn job.

I hoist my travel bag onto my shoulder and stride through the lobby, dodging a delivery person struggling to carry several takeout bags in his hands. I double back to ask him if he needs help, but he says he’s okay and pushes through. I’m so caught up in his saga that I bump into someone else.

“Apologies,” I say, my eyes still on the delivery guy, who’s now trying to call the elevator.

“Javier,” the person says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

I shake my head when my eyes land on Mari’s father. “Luiz?”

Of course it’s him. My brain just isn’t computing that he’s in front of me.

I glance around. “What are you doing here?”

He removes his sunglasses and peers at me. “I wanted to speak with Mari.”

“At nine a.m. on a Sunday morning,” I say, unable to filter the suspicion from my tone.

“Yes, that’s right,” he says, his hands folded over his chest as if he’s bracing for a challenge.

“Well, uh, okay. But she’s meeting with her study group, so she isn’t home, and I need to head to the airport.”

“Hang on, Javi. Since I have you, why don’t we…talk.”

Right. Because I know he didn’t come here at this early hour to speak with his daughter.

This is Mari’s father. You don’t have to like him. You only have to tolerate him.

We drift over to a set of chairs arranged for conversation and sit down opposite each other. I nudge my bag out of the way with my foot and lean forward. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Look, Javier, this isn’t anything personal. You seem like a decent guy.”

I raise an eyebrow. “But?”

“But we both know you aren’t on Mari’s level, and I’m a little worried that you’re going to drag her down.

I don’t think you’ll mean to. It’ll just happen.

You’re not doing anything. Not going anywhere.

And Mari has her whole life ahead of her.

She needs to focus right now. No distractions.

No boys. No trips to New York to see her friends. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand that you’re threatened by me for some reason.”

“Threatened? No. Concerned? Yes. You know, when Mari’s mother decided to move to Brazil, I kept Mari here.

Because I knew she could do big things with my guidance.

And it’s working. Don’t undermine that. Give her the space she needs.

This…friendship, it was a college thing, right?

You’ll eventually lose touch anyway. Why not cut it off now? Save everyone the headache?”

I smooth my hands over my thighs, pick up my bag, and jump to my feet. “With respect, I think you’re an asshole, and I wish you cared about your daughter half as much as you care about yourself.”

He sighs and rises as well. “I’m sorry you think so. Just know this: She will never choose you over me. That’s a fact.”

“What are you talking about?” I say, slapping my baseball cap on, my shoulders more tense than they’ve ever been. “She shouldn’t have to.”

He nods repeatedly. As if we’ve finally made a breakthrough. “Exactly.”

I blow out a disbelieving breath. Fuck this guy. “Have a nice life, Luiz.”

“You too, Javier.”

He absolutely means it as a final send-off. Considering I don’t have a job to return to or anything else going on in my life, maybe it should be.