I'M NOT YOUR WOMAN. (✓)

33. blockedt.

She cast a death stare at the grip of his brown hands that had sent her into euphoria many a time, but now she couldn't stand the sight of it, "Get off."

He reluctantly let her walk.

Rhodes freed himself from his seat buckle, "Shall I stop her? She probably isn't that far, I th — "

Ebén was reluctantly resigned to it being over and could only blame himself, "Leave her."

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[ LA MANGA, ESPAÑA — 3PM ]

Home — Ebén had missed the briny smell of the Canary Islands, and wanted to use this time away from the City that never slept as a hard reset.

He also wanted to stop thinking about his one that got away, that had been nobody's fault but his. He had offered her his apologies on the flight down here but got nothing but radio silence. It was hardly a surprise to Ebén that she didn't respond to his flood of calls, but there was a sliver of hope in him... that she might have. He was irked with himself that he gave in to the arousal at the expense of the best relationship he had ever had.

He loved her in a way that was deep, scary but exciting all in one beat.

And now, he'd lost her... forever.

Abuelita's wooden cane slapped hard against the pebble ground, as her gait made her violently see-saw, even with the physical support of her carer. Her blood-flecked eyes squinted and noticed the car parked in front of her gate, wanting to be let in.

Ebén was tempted to blare his car horn but didn't want to pierce her already vitiated eardrums.

She stalked towards the anonymous car tentatively, hand in hand and in constant dialogue with María, her carer, at the visitor she had not been expecting.

"¿Quién es ese?" Her sullen eyes had not focused yet.

Ebén wound the window down, "¡Yaya, soy yo!"

"¿Qué?" She waddled towards him as she was being escorted down her patio steps by María — "¿Ebénezer, eres tú? Pensé que estaba en Londres?

"Yo estaba, ¡aterricé no hace mucho"

María stood over Abuelita, cordially greeting the man who had shown her and her family nothing but kindness since the very start of her employment, "¡Hola Señor Cástro!"

He sweetened her with a smile, ¡Mária, es muy bueno verte! Gracias por todo lo que haces por mi abuela"

"No pasa nada, Señor" said Maria, opening the car door to let him exit.

The two of them noticed the leg brace that Ebén was donning on this dominant leg as his own gait was slower in pace than Abuelita's and was now a limp.

"¿Qué pasado? ¿Estás herido?" Abuelita asked, as her sotto voice wobbled in her throat and came out frail. María, too, shared her concern as Ebén's face grimaced with each stride he took on the pebbled ground, without the aid of his crutches that would lessen the weight put on his right knee.

"Es solo una herida menor"

There was nothing minor about a torn ACL that was set to see him sidelined for three-quarters of the calendar year. And Ebén was trying to protect Abuelita from worrying about him. She had spent her entire life doing that, and Ebén didn't want her to add more years to that tally.

She paused, examining him with a disbelieving eye.

"¿Seguro?"

That would have been the moment for Ebén to break his sweat and fold, but was adamant that he was going to lessen the burdens that he placed into the arms of the old, frail woman, "Si, si."

"Déjame mostrate algo," she whistled him over, as she led the way — even with her unsteady gait, to her rosebud garden was enshrined with wild flowery.

She had always taken an avid interest in planting her own flowers and loved to watch their journey from seeds to fully planted, under her love and nurture.

"¿Qué estás plantando?"

She couldn't contain her excitement, "Claveles. ¡Ellas están creciendo bien no te parece" She raised the ferrule part of her walking stick in the air, ushering him to accompany her on the wooden bench.

She took a silent pause to try and dig out clues from his face that looked visibly distracted. La Manga was deep in rural Spanish country, which allowed one to effectively disconnect.

For however long.

But, Abuelita noticed that whatever baggage Ebén had in the City, he had brought it over.

She didn't have the faintest clue as to what was the source of his inner troubles but decided to prod on the issue of girlfriends to begin the process of elimination, "¿Como esta tu novia?"

"I don't have one?" Ebén shook his head, as his chest rose up high to exhale, suffocating his brain with thoughts of her. He'd snuffed the only chance she would ever give him, and wanted nothing more than a chance to redeem himself and get her back.

"Entonces, ¿qué es lo que te molesta?" Abuelita asked, and was initially taken aback at how he was so willing to share what the cause of his baggage was.

"I met someone and I think I fucked it," Ebén held his head in his hands, the reality that he'd lost her, no longer a maybe, but something that was certain.

Abuelita tried to calm his wounded heart but Maya was a woman so set in her ways, that she rarely ever changed her mind, "Carino, dale tiempo. Ella podría sorprenderte y cambiar de opinión. "

Once she said it was the end, it most likely was.

He slid in his hotel room key, pushing the door open. Before he even had the chance to look up, he heard the blowing of an amorous voice that made him shiver, "About time, Mr. Cástro? How long were you going to make me wait?"

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A/N: Surprise, motherfucker.