Falling By Design

29 | Trouble in Paradise

"Come on, Thalia," Miguel pleads, his hand reaching for hers. She flinches, pulling away and crossing her arms, dissent plastered on her face.

"Don't feed me that line about doing this for me," she groans as she buries her face in her clammy palms.

"But it is," he says in a hushed tone. Why willingly put himself in a situation where being away from Thalia feels like a punch to the gut? He's not a masochist.

Miguel's not playing the sympathy card here. He wants Thalia to pick him only if she's 100% certain she won't look back and wonder what could've been. But he's also crossing his fingers that Thalia stops putting up a fight before he flips the script, puts his ego on the back burner, and embraces the role of the backup plan while clutching onto her like his life depends on it. Will that be the smarter move for him?

How will that make her feel? What if she resents him?

Crap. He's going in circles.

"Liar."

Miguel's frustration bubbles up. "What am I supposed to do? Hang around, hoping you'll see that I'm worth sacrificing your opportunities for? Should I shower you with praise or worship the ground you walk on to have a chance? To be the one you pick?" He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh. "It's not fair. I just want to make things easier for you. I've seen you unhappy and mistreated. If there's an escape route, and you want to take it, who am I to stand in your way?"

He lowers his head, muttering with a hint of resignation, "I'm just your fake fiancé."

"You know you're not just that," Thalia rebuts. "That's not true."

"Maybe, yeah, I suppose," Miguel concedes, but hurt still seeps into his voice. "I'm sorry I eavesdropped. But if I didn't hear it, when would you have told me? The day you take off?"

She is blindsided by the question, causing her to squirm in shame. She hasn't thought that far ahead; she hasn't come up with a plan.

"I can't... I can't decide just like that," she admits guiltily, snapping her fingers. "Look, it's complicated, alright? I'm not expecting you to sweep me off my feet or oppose whatever's dragging me back home. But it's not that simple."

The fact that Thalia hasn't made up her mind at that exact moment gives Miguel a tiny spark of hope. It means she's at least considering him. Yet, the looming uncertainty, the chance that she might push him aside, starts to eat at him. Thalia hasn't even told him she loves him, or even, likes him, leaving Miguel with nothing to grasp onto.

Dang it. Why did he confess his feelings without the assurance that she would hear him? He should've stated it clearly so he could listen to her response. Now, it feels a tad too late, awkward, and maybe a bit desperate.

Most importantly, it's her family and future pitted against him – someone she's only been with for five months. Who is he kidding?

Steph's right. The duration of their relationship isn't enough to make history.

"I know it's not," Miguel acknowledges, his tone dropping.

Thalia understands it's a bit of a stretch, but she has to put it out there. "Can't you stay with me until then?" she murmurs. "Or is that asking for too much?"

Miguel lifts his head. "Once more, how long are we talking here? Until you leave?"

"I have about two weeks..." Thalia squeezes her eyes shut and rises to her feet, pacing towards the window pane. "I said I'm not sure yet."

"But you will be."

She spins to look at Miguel, her heart plummeting to even lower depths. "Why are you convinced that I'll leave you?"