Antonio was driving them home when Tara decided to open up about what was making her head spin.
“I hate this rift between my parents and me,” she said out of the blue as she turned the volume of the radio down. “I don’t want to choose between you and them.”
“You don’t have to, cariña,” he said softly, his eyes focused on the road, but his hand reaching out to grab hers.
“It’s like they shoved me against the wall,” she whined and turned her eyes to his handsome face, “Can’t I have both my family and boyfriend? Why do I have to choose?”
“You don’t have to,” he assured her again.
“But it f*****g feels like I do,” she said, exasperated. “I don’t want to let go of you,” she went on and his hand squeezed hers slightly, briefly, almost if the mere thought of her letting go of him was pa
