cristobal’s no shocks her a bit, she wasn’t expecting his brutal honesty especially after her own response. she thought maybe he’d give her some vague answer, nothing definitive. it hurts her to hear it — they’d parted under the premise of self-discovery and the hope of healing from addiction and had both come up short. romina’s features soften even more, her jaw relaxing as she turns herself fully toward him. “ isn’t this what you wanted? ” this question is gentle and curious. she comes a few steps closer to him, pulling away from the door until she can rest the tips of her fingers on the edge of the wood of his desk. “ what changed? i thought this was everything to you. ” maybe, she’s wrong. maybe, cristobal’s priorities had changed since the last time they stood this close to each other. her eyes break their stare, falling to where her hands sit. rome wants to touch him, rome wants to comfort him and run her fingers through his hair like she always did when he looked this tense. this dissatisfied. she wants to push further, especially if she’s caught him in a moment of pure honesty. she was so used to the man hiding from her, pushing her away and holding his emotions hostage. there’s a tightening in her chest when she thinks about him being alone and upset. a short prayer comes through her head — my god, please, let him be strong. let him be strong. he’s come so far from where he was. it had always been in her nature to worry about the people she loved the most. cristobal had never been an exception. every sunday in the cathedral with her mother, rosaries wrapped around her hand while she begged the virgin mary to take care of him. so much time had past, so much time without one another, so much time pretending she didn’t think about that man. all of it was full of prayers for him. “ what made you happiest, if not this? ” there’s no ulterior motive to this question, there’s no tell me what we both know because in her mind, it’d never been her. romina is sure that cristobal had never loved her, romina is sure that she was just a phase or anything that could explain his lack of response and his lack of passion.
it was something that wasn’t optional. he felt like she was a part of his old self. this person who had fallen down a rabbit hole of alcohol and conspiracy theories while attempting to solve a mystery that had taken over him. even now, he can’t seem to shake the look of disappointment when they had discovered the body of an eight year old girl, washed up on the riverbanks. he can’t shake the pang in his chest when he hadn’t anticipated for all of it to occur during the awkward transition they’d been going through. the almost - lovers. the pair who’d, after what felt like a life - time’s worth of familiarity, were finally falling into something more. “ it should be everything. i just ... ” he could take away the drink, the physical intoxication, but he can’t ever do away with the trauma. “ this job is all i have. ” and it’s this dedication that got him promoted to sheriff. his aptitude to set aside his own personal mishap for the sake of helping others. but he’s just said it himself. this job, the endless case files and crime scenes are all he ever has. cristobal can’t help but wonder who and what he is if not for all of the matters he invests himself in. “ but it isn’t everything. ” and he’s heard it time and time again. people can’t have all that they want. but what if he did have it at one point? what if he had lazy sundays in bed? what if he knew what it felt like to hold everything in his hands only to willingly relinquish it? gaze is withdrawn as he thinks of these things. it isn’t healthy to wonder ‘ what if. ’ those such thoughts are exactly what lured him towards a bottle in the first place. cristobal clears his throat when she asks the question, gaze finally transfixed upon hers for a second, two, before flittering away once again. he wants to tell her the truth, but then he remembers why she’d come here. it wasn’t to check up on him. she has a boyfriend she feels she needs to protect. a man who seems pestered by traffic stops that cristobal has nothing to do with. he remembers that they could never be who they were before. she’s changed as well. “ nothing, ” he mutters.