Summary: Javier has to pay the price for his past mistakes - even in the dream that keeps haunting him.
Tags: lots of angst, guilt, regret, sadness, drinking
Author's note: I'm absolutely in my Javi era so I had to write another one... not a happy piece, but I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless! xx
He wonders if it would feel the same to kiss her. If her lips would feel that soft, if her taste would be as intoxicating as it was years ago. And now she is right here, so close that her sweet scent fills his nostrils and makes him dizzy.
He hasn’t been here before, the place is not familiar. He stands by a window, the curtains drawn to the side, the grey light of early dawn allowing him to make out the silhouettes of the furniture and the woman in front of him.
And yet, he has been here a hundred times and more; this close to her, and even closer. He’s felt her body melt against his before, her arms wrap around his neck, her lips trail kisses along the scars on his skin. Years have passed, yet he remembers it all as if it was yesterday.
She is still breathtaking, after all these years — if not more. Her eyes are closed, her curly dark locks falling on her shoulders, framing her face that holds the peace of the sweetest dreams. He wants to gently trace his fingers across her cheeks, her jaw, her lips. He wants to wrap one of his arms around her waist and pull her close until there is no distance between them. He wants to lean in and softly press his lips against hers. He is yearning to know if it would feel the same to kiss her.
But he doesn’t move. He is afraid that his touch might destroy her peace, and he would hate himself if he stole one more good thing from her. Wait, he hates himself already. He hates himself for how he hid his feelings from her, and even from himself. He hates himself for how he treated her as if she meant nothing more than another woman in his bed. He hates himself for how recklessly he put her in harm’s way, and for every fucking thing that happened to her in Colombia.
Now all he wants to do is to kiss her and take her pain away. He imagines an alternate reality, where he would come home to her every evening. He would wrap her in his arms and kiss her. That would be the moment he would be waiting for all day, his favourite part of the day, coming home to his sweet girl and kissing her. Then she would ask him about his day, he would ask her about hers, they would talk about everything and nothing, just as they used to. He would then make love to her on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the bedroom, or in the shower… in every corner of their home. And every night, he would pull her into his arms and kiss her goodnight before they fell asleep.
He wishes he had realised sooner that this was what he truly needed in his life. Her.
Now, it feels like it might be too late.
He slowly leans in. His face is inches from hers and he could easily close the distance between them. And God, does he want to! But he knows he doesn’t deserve to… An invisible force locks him in place, holding him back. He hands all the power to her, letting her decide where she wants to take this and what she is willing to give him.
So he waits. He waits with the nerves of someone awaiting their sentence. It feels as if his fate is at stake.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there; it could be seconds, minutes, or hours. It’s still dark, but somehow he can see her face clearly. He wishes he had done things differently. The guilt of the past and the desire of the present burn through him, his chest aching with the weight of it.
Suddenly, the room with all its greyness begins to fade away and the only thing he sees is her as she lifts her head. He takes a moment to admire the way her long, dark lashes lift as she opens her eyes to look at him and he tries to brace himself for what’s about to come.
The very moment her eyes meet his, he is pulled under into an ocean of pain and sorrow. And he can feel himself starting to drown as her cold gaze pierces through him.
----
Javier shoots up in bed, his eyes popping open, chest heaving, breath uneven and wet locks of hair stuck to his forehead.
A few minutes pass until his breaths even out and he lets himself fall back onto the cool sheets, squeezing his eyes shut.
All he can feel is guilt and loneliness eating away at him, a cruelly bitter mix of emotions stabbing through his chest in the most painful way. He misses her, more than he ever imagined it was possible to miss someone. Regret washes over him once again, for everything that happened and everything that didn’t. He reaches toward the lamp on the bedside table, knocking over a glass as he tries to switch it on.
„Shit” he mumbles, squinting his eyes at the harsh intrusion of the yellow light, and he reaches for the bottle of whiskey he keeps on his bedside table. His head throbs from the amount he had before going to sleep, but he needs more.
Javier fills the glass and raises it to his his lips. The feel of the burning liquor is his only hope to silence the thoughts in his head; his thoughts of the horrors of Colombia, of all the mistakes he made, of all the people he let down, of the life, or lack thereof he has in Laredo. And thoughts of her. Of Helena.
He has dreamt of her again, the same dream that visits him almost every night. And every time, Javier hopes that it will be different, that maybe this time she will open her eyes and look at him with forgiveness, that maybe she will even give him a sweet kiss of hers, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t deserve it — not even in his dreams. This is what he deserves; lying alone in his bed, drunk and consumed by his guilt.
Slowly, he reaches for the bottle and pours himself another glass.
Summary: Helena gets pregnant with Javi's baby and decides to keep it a secret. When he accidentally discovers it, their relationship takes an unexpected turn.
(The story is set before the narcos meeting at Las Margaritas in MedellĂn).
Author's note: This is my first time writing Javier Peña and my first time posting my writing, so it really is a speacial piece to me. I've always loved Javi and Helena together and hoped we'd get to see more of them in Narcos, or at least get to read fics about the two of them. I see many people felt the same but still, there's so little about them. I'm here to change that, enjoy! xx
P.S.: English in not my native language, so pls be kind.
It's not possible. That was her first thought when she found out the week before.
This can’t be real. They had been careful. She was on the pill.
And yet, it was true, and it was the last thing Helena needed in her life: she was pregnant with Javier Peña's baby.
She knew from the start that it was different with Javier, unlike anything she had experienced before. She was used to being objectified, being tossed around and used by men, something she had learned to endure in order to survive. But with Javier, it had always been different. From the very beginning, he treated her as an equal. Everything felt so easy and before she realized it, she was in too deep.
She knew it was a dangerous game, letting herself get lost in the daydream that she might have something real with him. She knew how he was with women; his reputation echoed through the brothels of Bogotá. She was also aware that their relationship was rooted in two things: her role as his informant, and sex. Still, it had been going on for several months, which was unusual for both of them, and over time, their dynamic had shifted. She began refusing his money and staying over for the night; he started coming to her place during the day and even picking her up and giving her rides from time to time. No doubt, the sex was amazing. But there had to be more to it. Over time, he involuntarily let her see more of him – a side that contrasted with the cold, grumpy exterior the world saw - and she liked what she saw. He could be tender, holding her in his arms and stroking her back with his calloused fingers. He could be genuinely interested, asking about her life and telling her bits about his own. He could be caring, always making sure she felt good with him. He could even be worried, and although he tried to hide it, it didn’t get past her. It was there in his deep brown eyes, in the way he scanned her from head to toe whenever he saw her, searching for any sign of discomfort or injury.
She wondered if he was like this with all his girls. She had been tempted to ask Vanessa but she never did, afraid that the answer would shatter something inside her. Without knowing the truth, she could hold onto this little fantasy, keeping it alive in her heart as days in Colombia were getting harder and harder. She knew she did mean something to him, that he cared for her in his own way and even enjoyed her company.
So she shut the alarming voice in her head and locked it away in the back of her mind, letting herself enjoy this state somewhere between reality and fiction, where she gave all of herself to this man and forced herself to not think of the fact that she was most likely just another fling to him, one of a hundred others. She even went so far as to hand in a fake medical report to the brothel about a made-up chlamydia infection and disappeared for weeks. To Javier's bed. She knew it was very selfish, that she should be thinking of her son and "working" for the visa to get them out, in hopes of a better and safer life, but she couldn't help herself. She was craving to be in his arms. He always made her feel so good. He touched her in a way that was always reverent, even when he was treating her a bit rough, never causing her any pain, only delicious pleasure. He always kept her close to him, having an arm around her waist or on the small of her back, pressing soft kisses to her lips, cheeks, jaw, neck or gently stroking her hair as she fell asleep on him. It was as if he always wanted her close to him, close enough to feel her, to touch and breathe her in, something she was not familiar with from the other men she encountered during her "job". But then again, Javier was different from any other men she'd met her whole life. He made her feel like nobody else. He almost made her feel... loved.
It was a silly thing to think, anyway. And holding the medical report confirming she was pregnant, it not only felt silly, but overly irresponsible, too. She was about two months along, which aligned perfectly with the time of the faked sick leave, meaning there could possibly be only one person who could be the baby’s father: Javier Peña.
She had already been suspicious, but the ultrasound left no room for guessing: she was pregnant. She had never felt so alone, so scared, standing in front of the old hospital building, clutching the papers to her chest and letting the tears stream down her cheeks.
She also knew that while Javi wasn't one to do relationships, he was a man who took responsibility. She knew he was a man with a good heart who would see it as his obligation to help her in a situation that they had hurled themselves into together. She knew he would push the right buttons to get her a visa without a second thought. Had she wanted to abort the baby, he would look for a clinic where it was safe and would pay for the process. Had she wanted to keep it, he would provide financial support and make sure to get her safely to the U.S. He would make sure to take responsibility and do his obligation.
But she didn't want to be an obligation to him. She wanted to keep this baby, that she was sure about. But she couldn't bear the thought of finding a check from Javi in her mailbox every month, a sour reminder of how she and their baby were nothing but an obligation to him, something he didn't plan or want but felt the need to take care of, in his own way. She didn't want his money. She wanted all or nothing with Javier Peña, she’d realized. She wanted to be his all or his nothing.
And as her heart broke at the realization that she would never be his everything, she chose to be his nothing instead.
She decided it was best she didn't say anything about the baby. This way, at least, she would save herself from seeing his cold expression when she tells him she is pregnant with his child, from the painful conversation about how he doesn't do commitment and from whatever unexpected reaction comes out of this man at an announcement like that.
It took her a few days to compose herself, she canceled her plans and even refused to see Javier, telling him she was sick. She only went to meet up with Vanessa after she’d called her that they were going to need her the next weekend in MedellĂn. Helena said nothing about her pregnancy and agreed to join them for the weekend.
This was her chance. Whatever this meeting in MedellĂn was about, it seemed to be important. If she could get useful intel for Javier, she would demand the visa she had been long waiting for and get out of this country with her son for good. What she would do after that and where she would go, she had no idea. But it was an issue she didn't have to face right now.
Right now, she had one thing to do. She needed to see Javier for the last time before MedellĂn, to talk through the plan. She knew he wasn't exactly fond of sending her in and she postponed telling him about it as long as she could. Merely living in Colombia was like skating on thin ice, let alone mingling with cartel members and spying for the DEA. Javi knew this better than anyone, and while he expressed his concern, he didn't do a thing to speed up the process for her visa at the embassy. Helena knew she was good at her job, and that Javier most likely wanted her to gather more intel for him before letting her go.
Helena sighed and looked into the mirror. She had no energy to dress up and get herself pretty for him, the pregnancy giving her a hard day today, making her sick with nausea and feeling weak... not that it mattered. Not that there was a point in trying to impress him.
She grabbed her bag and her keys and brushed away a single drop of tear rolling down her cheek. She could do this. Just for one more night, she needed to pretend that everything was just as it had been before. Then she would go to MedelleĂn and do what she had been doing for the past couple of years for the last time, so she could get that visa. Then she would leave Colombia with Mateo and the baby... Javier's baby.
Don't. She told herself, the thought making her heart drop.
Javier's baby.
She felt another tear roll down her cheek, followed by another and another. She sank down with her back against the wall and let the tears flow.
She was gonna be late, but she couldn't care less.
Javier stood by the window in the living room of his apartment, the scent of whiskey, burnt coffee from the morning and smoke heavy in the air. He took a drag of his cigarette, attempting to let the stress of the day wear off with each inhale and exhale, and glanced at the clock.
Helena was supposed to be at his place by eight. It was already a few minutes past eight, and he caught himself starting to worry about where she might be. It was unusual of her to be late.
Lately, she had been spending most of her nights in his apartment, a habit Javier had gotten used to way too easily. There was no amount of whiskey and smoking that could ease his stress and anxiety as much as being with her - losing himself in her scent, in her beauty, burying his face in the crook of her neck and feeling the soft skin there while he moved inside her… There was nothing that could compare to this. The thought of her being with him and not getting in bed with all those disgusting men at the brothel also made him feel better. He obviously worried about her and wanted to protect her from the horrors she already knew very well. And as a man, he couldn't bear the thought of sharing her with anyone else. He didn't want to share this woman with anyone else, even though she wasn't his.
Yet, the next weekend he would have to share her with the most evil, most sickening men of this whole country and the mere thought of it made his stomach turn. His mind replayed their conversation from last night, over and over, how she reminded him that she needed that visa and how she reluctantly told him that she was going to MedellĂn during the weekend with all the other girls. And no matter how much he hated the thought of sending her in, he knew this could be their golden ticket and they could both get what they wanted. She would get the visa and he would get intel that could give them a few steps ahead of the narcos. All he had to do was settle every detail with her tonight.
If he wanted to be honest with himself - which Javier wasn't often - he did it on purpose, delaying Helena's visa. She had given him intel during the months they had been seeing each other, though less and less as she started spending more of her time with him. Still, what she had provided could have been enough that, if he wanted to, he could have pulled some strings and knocked on the door of the right people at the embassy. He knew the day would eventually come when he would have to follow through with his promise to her, and he had no doubt that once she had the visa, she would do everything in her power to get herself and her son out of Colombia in the blink of an eye. And for some reason that Javier didn’t fully understand – and maybe didn’t even want to -, the thought of never seeing her again made him feel cold and empty.
It was a strange feeling for him, and an instinct rooted deep within him told him that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be... that him and Helena were never supposed to become more than transactional. That they were heading into dangerous waters where his only response should be to cut things off and run. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to tear away from her and simply never see her again. He wanted to selfishly keep her all to himself and pretend that he didn’t acknowledge how his heart beat faster whenever he saw her, how he felt faint and calm all at once when he fell asleep with her in his arms, or how she was the first thing that came to his mind as he woke from his sleep at the early hours of the morning. He pretended none of this existed in his heart, though with each passing day, it was more and more difficult. He wanted to pretend she was just another woman he was sleeping with and liked enough to spend time with, just another informant in his bed.
Except there were no other informants in his bed anymore. How could there be, when he spent all of his free evenings tangled in the sheets with her. How could there be, when she was the one he called when he felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of his job weighing down on him during the days. How could there be, when all of those other girls in Bogotá sparked no interest in him anymore, not even the slightest.
Sometimes, when he was drinking alone in his apartment, he dared to wander into those dangerous waters and absentmindedly lose himself in wondering if she felt something, too. She had to, he thought, picturing the way her deep chocolate eyes gazed at him with so much longing, adoration and vulnerability. Or the way she would curl up at his side and lay her head on his chest after they finished. Or when she held him in her arms and ran her fingers through his dark locks, listening to him complain about what an asshole everyone at the fucking embassy was. Javier was aware he possessed a charm that made women practically drool over him, but this felt different. This couldn't be just about sex. But then again, he always seemed to find an excuse to convince himself that this couldn't be real, that it would never work between them, that they weren't meant to be, that the circumstances weren’t right, that he wasn't a man made for relationships... he was a DEA agent living a dangerous life, and she was a prostitute, his informant, who was determined to leave Colombia. And that was all there was to it.
He downed his whiskey and poured himself another glass, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was quarter past eight. He was already starting to beat himself up for not offering to pick her up from her apartment as the streets were not particularly safe to walk in Bogotá, especially after dark, when there was a soft knock on the door. He let out a breath of relief and went to answer it.
Opening the door, he wasted no time pulling her into his arms, swiftly closing the door behind her and backing her up against it, his mouth on hers in an instant. This was the moment he’d been waiting for all day, this was what kept him sane amidst all the chaos. Now, he swore not even God could stop him from having her. Unless…
„Javi” she pulled away just enough to look up at him, gently but firmly pushing him away. „Not tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow at her but loosened his grip around her, giving her some space. It was unlikely of her to decline him, but now that he took his time looking her up and down, he could tell something was off. She looked pale, her eyes were glassy and the usual sass and confidence she carried were gone.
„What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evidient in his voice. He reached up with one hand to gently cup her cheek, coaxing her to meet his gaze. Sometimes even he himself was surprised by how soft he could be with her. But he couldn’t help it.
„I…I’m not feeling well. Just a bit under the weather.” she murmured, looking away from him briefly before returning her gaze, seeming nervous, as if debating whether she should say more or not.
„Just sick… like what I had last week.” she finally added. He didn’t say anything just nodded, however, the concern didn’t fade from his eyes.
„At least let me get you something” he offered as he walked her over to his brown leather couch.
„What can you get me from a kitchen that’s always empty?” she replied, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. He grunted, turning away to hide the smirk forming on his face. She knew him too well. The fridge was indeed empty except for a few bottles of beer, but he managed to find some old teabags at the back of a cupboard. He didn’t bother boiling water – hell, he didn’t even know where or if he had a kettle - , so he run hot water from the tap, filled a mug and tossed a teabag in it.
„Javier Peña making me tea? Who would have thought I’d see the day…” she teased, her mood lifting just a little as she took the mug from his hands with a small smile.
He looked at her, still feeling a bit helpless, wishing he could make her feel better and take away whatever was bothering her. He couldn’t explain it, but there was an unease in her that hadn’t been there before - a hidden anxiety that she had either hidden very well from him or that had only recently appeared. She didn’t look like someone with the flu or a virus. She looked… uncharacteristically nervous.
He wanted to ask her if something had happened that scared her or made her feel unsafe. Maybe someone had been following her around, or even worse, threathened her. Things like that weren’t uncommon in Bogotá. Or she was nervous about going to MedellĂn. He just wished he knew how to ask her, how to offer her comfort, but shame on him, he didn’t know any method that didn’t involve getting her in his bed and burying himself between her legs. And she clearly wasn’t in the mood for that.
„So you gonna tell me what your plan is for me?” she had caught him eyeing her and broke the silence, pulling him from his thoughts.
„Sure. Right.” he sighed and sat down next to her on the couch. As he started explaining why this weekend was important for them, he reached for a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and exhaled, the scent slowly filling the space between them as he talked.
Helena had never been bothered by the smoke; they’d even shared cigarettes quite often on evenings like this. But now, she wrinkled her nose at the smell and was about to make a comment on his chainsmoking habits when suddenly clutched at her stomach with one hand while the other flew to cover her mouth. She forced herself to collect herself long enough to stand up and make it to his bathroom.
Now Javier was even more puzzled than before. He stood up from the couch, helplessness taking over him once again. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table and decided to wait a little, giving her privacy to take care of herself. He heard her moving around in the bathroom and flushing the toilet, but when a few more minutes passed and she still hadn’t come out, he decided he just couldn’t bear to stand there helplessly, without at least trying to help her.
„Helena?” Javier knocked softly on the bathroom door. „Do you need anything?”
For a moment there was only silence, but then he heard her speak in a weak, low voice.
„Can you get me my meds? It’s in my bag, I left it on the couch.”
He quickly walked back to the couch, grabbed the black leather bag and opened it, rummaging through its contents, but he couldn’t find what she asked for. Frustrated, he spilled the contents of her bag on the couch; keys, wallet, a lipstick, earrings, drawings from Mateo, checks to pay, a medical report…
A medical report. He hadn’t meant to pry. He was just spilling everything out of that goddamn bag to get the medication for her as quickly as he could, but now he had seen it, and his eyes were glued to it. Glued to the medical report, with „pregnancy confirmation” reading at the top of the piece of paper that had crumbled at the corners.
Javier lifted it up and just stared, a knot forming in his stomach. It was as if his world – that was already filled the consistent presence of danger, stress and chaos, and wasn’t in need of a new layer of complication – froze. She was pregnant. His Helena was pregnant.
It can’t be. Not her. Not now.
He felt the blood drain from his face and the room started spinning around him. He didn’t register hearing her calling his name from the bathroom or walking to the living room to see what was taking him so long. When he came to, he saw her standing a few feet away, her beautiful face filled with horror, and a hand clasped over her mouth - not because of the nausea this time. She was looking at him and he knew she knew he discovered what she had been keeping from him.
„When were you going to tell me?” his voice was hoarse from the schock when he finally spoke, emotions chasing each other inside him; anger, fear, betrayal, helplessness…
„When?” he repeated more forcefully when she didn’t answer.
„I… I wasn’t.”
He couldn’t find the words to say, his expression cold as stone. He was frozen.
„It’s yours, Javi.” she whispered, her voice breaking.”The baby…it’s yours.”
He already knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew. He knew it the moment his eyes spotted the pregnancy confirmation she clearly hadn’t meant for him to see. He sanked down on the couch, burying his face in his palms, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. A child. His child. Their child. What was he supposed to do with that?
He couldn’t believe she wanted to keep this from him. He knew he wasn’t the type of man to provide stability and a loving home for a family. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t cut out for that. Still, the thought of Helena hiding this from him, potentially for his whole life, made anger boil in him.
„Javi, please, say something…” she spoke in a low voice, desperately needing him to say whatever was on his mind, to end this heavy silence.
„How could you keep this from me?”
„I thought you wouldn’t want to know.” she replied, her eyes welling up.
„Wouldn’t want to know?” he jumped to his feet and started pacing the room that suddenly felt too so small, his voice rough with frustration. „You don’t get to decide that. Don’t you think I at least have the right to know?”
„And what would be the point of that?” she exclaimed, raising her voice and taking a step toward him. „You are all about your job and sleeping around. If you can’t commit to me, how could you commit to a baby? What do you know about raising a child? It’s not like you are part of their life when you feel like it, when you want to make time for them between your informants. It’s not like you can disappear when you get bored or scared or whatever the hell it is. You can’t suddenly change your mind and decide this is not the life you want to live, and then think you can just solve everything by sending me a fucking check every month.”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks now and his heart broke at her desperate monologue, each word a knife to his chest. And it hurt even more because he knew he deserved everything she threw at him. He had given her every reason to think that way about him. He could have changed that, though. He could have admitted to himself what she meant to him and what he felt for her. And he could have told her. Had he been honest with himself - and with her -, maybe she would have felt she could trust him with this, even though she knew this was not the life he planned.
What life he planned for himself, he didn’t know anymore. He had become so caught up in chasing Escobar that it seemed to be the only purpose in his life. He’d never seriously considered fatherhood, not even with Lorraine. He never really thought about it. He wasn’t strictly opposed to the idea of having kids one day, but he never seriously considered starting a family with someone, either. But suddenly, the situation had presented itself, without him asking for it. And it was something both of them were responsible for.
And while he was still upset with her, his anger toward her began to fade, replaced by an even stronger anger at himself. For not being honest with her, for not making her feel like she could trust him. A wave of guilt washed over him as he imagined how lonely and terrified she must have felt, carrying this burden alone in a word filled with danger and cruelty. He thought about all the times she was there for him, letting him find comfort in not only her body, but in her company, too. She was always there to listen to him or just hold him in silence when words felt too heavy to say… And now he wanted to be there for her, too. He didn’t want her to face this alone… He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her that he would be there for her, that they would get through this together.
„You can’t go to MedellĂn.” he blurted out finally, his voice much calmer.
„Seriously, Javier? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
„Helena- „ he started, but she interrupted him.
„Well, let me enlighten you” she snapped. „Now I’ll need to take care of not one, but two children on my own. I need that fucking visa.”
„You aren’t on your own, Helena” he said softly, taking a few steps toward her until he was close enough to touch her.
Her breath hitched as his words took her by surprise and she looked up at him, eyes filled with disbelief and hesitance. This wasn’t the answer she was expecting to hear from him. But she was listening, waiting for him to continue.
This was his chance to make things right.
„I…I know I’m not the best person to do this with, but I want you to know that you are not alone in this.” he took a breath, taking a second to steady himself in this moment of intensity. „Fuck, I don’t know how to say this right, and I know you deserve better, but I just want you to know that you are all I think about. There is none else. And you are wrong if you believe I can’t commit to you.”
The words tumbled out of him, raw and uncomposed - but finally, honest. Javier watched her gaze soften and fill with more surprise, and a hint of relief and hope. She looked so vulnerable like this, and he wanted to tell her more, say the words that were trapped on his tongue, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he raised a finger to lift her chin, his thumb gently stroking her cheek and she let him, seeking comfort in his touch and his confession. She stepped closer to him until she could feel the warmth of his breath. The air in the dimly lit room had shifted, the tension between them slowly beginning to dissolve. Javier tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, as if to test the waters and she responded by placing one of her small hands on his arm, feeling the muscles under the thin material of shirt.
„I’m sorry I didn’t say anything” she said after a few minutes of silence, darting her eyes away from his face. „I didn’t want you to feel forced to be part of something you never wanted.”
„No” he traced her bottom lip with his thumb „I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like you could tell me anything.”
What he did next surprised both her and himself. Gently, he placed a hand on her stomach. It was still too early for anything to show, but his trembling fingers traced it knowing the little life they had created was already there, growing. The touch was tender, laced with fear and a newfound curioustiy, mirroring the overwhelming swirl of emotions inside him. But amidst it all, he also felt something new, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. And in that quiet, intimate moment a bond formed between them – not only between him and Helena, but between him and this child whose existence had just been revealed to him so very recently.
Helena watched him, completely moved. She almost had to force herself to pull her gaze back just enough to meet his, the final question lingering in her eyes.
„Javi…” she started. „If we are going to do this, I need you to be all in. I need all of you.”
He understood what she was asking for. She was asking for what they’d both been secretly yearning for, something Javier had been afraid to admit even to himself. He could barely believe he needed an unexpected twist of fate like this to muster up his courage to face his feelings. He never thought he would ever feel ready, he still didn’t. He was still afraid he would mess it up. But he knew that he didn’t want to let her down, he wanted to be there to protect her and make her happy. And he might not have been dreaming of becoming a father, but standing there with her in that moment, it was as if suddenly all the pieces they had created together over the past few months had fallen into place.
„I meant what I said about committing to you. I want to be there for you. I… I want to be with you.” he said, looking her in the eye.
„I want to be with you, too.” a smile formed on her face.
He responded by bringing his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a kiss that said more than words could. She kissed him back and in that moment, it felt as if nothing else in the world existed - no cartels to bring down, no danger to hide from, no fear, no pain - just the two of them in each other’s arms in his quiet apartment that, for the first time, felt more than just four walls.
