As I flip through an informational pamphlet for my new diagnosis on the ride back to Kyle's apartment, a statistic catches my eye: genetics account for about sixty to eighty-five percent of the risk of bipolar disorder. That means it's extremely likely that I inherited it from one of my parents, and that is instantly sobering.

Mom.

She must have gone down her own self-destructive path, one that led to her fragile family crumbling at the loss of its patriarch. One that led to so much pain between a mother and her children. That daughterly guilt flares again, stronger than ever, because I understand her now. Does that mean I can forgive her?

But then, I'm worried about the other direction that statistic goes, too. My mind takes off racing in search of a way to keep Ariel from suffering the way I have. I don't want to turn into my mother, and I don't want Ariel to turn into me. The only route to save him I can think of is Xavi. He needs Xavi.

"Do you think a lesbian can be with a man if they love each other?" I ask suddenly.

Kyle turns around in his seat and looks at me directly. "Girl, I think if you love a man, you're not lesbian."

"Kyle, I've always been—"

"Yeah, yeah," he dismisses, rolling his eyes. "Things change. Don't panic about a label, just accept that things change."

"Chris and Rigo only labeled themselves because they're celebrities," Mariluz adds, peeking in the rearview mirror. "You'll never be under that kind of scrutiny. You don't have to have an answer."

"So I'm just... the lesbian who loves a man," I answer flatly.

Kyle shakes his head. "Fluid. Sexuality."

Mariluz gasps. "Oh!"

"Fluid?" I repeat skeptically.

Kyle nods. "Whatever your sexuality is now involves men, and you don't have any obligation to figure out what it is," he explains confidently. "Just go get your man, girl!"

I hesitate for a moment, honestly thinking about his words as he sits normally in his seat again, despite knowing he isn't serious. "Take me there," I say finally.

He whips around again. "Take you there?" he asks in shock. "You're really gonna get him back?"

It sounds impossible, and crazy, but I've been known to do things like that anyway, even if they turn out badly. Why not now, too? For Ariel.

"I'm gonna go back to Chris's house and just... try to work things out. Slowly," I say, watching Kyle's eyes widen to the size of the moon. He's never been good at managing his expectations, and we both need to here. "Don't expect a miracle, Ky."

He purses his lips tight and shakes his head. "No miracles expected. I promise."

"Good."

Kyle's impatience can't be tamped down, though, and he's eager to get me to Beverly Hills. He orders Mariluz to step on it, and the three of us rush in to Kyle's apartment to pack all my belongings. Working together, we take under five minutes. We're back in the Compass in even less, and on the road to Beverly Hills just as fast. Kyle and Mariluz will definitely be late getting back, but it should be the last time they have to help me, at least.

They both get out to hand me my bags, even though I can handle it myself. Just an excuse to stick around a little longer and say goodbye, and I can't fault them for it. We've gotten real close again over the last two weeks. I'm tempted to ask them to join me, just so I don't have to face Jaz or Xavi alone.

"Good luck, girl," Kyle says in a low voice finally. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"We'll turn around and come back if you want," Mariluz offers as well. "Just don't give up without trying."

I nod as my chest tightens. "I won't give up." No matter how much I'd like to.

When I turn around, my resolve dissipates completely and I nearly run back into Mariluz's SUV.

Scratch that. I might give up.

Rigo is standing in the doorway, watching me intently with the door open. His expression is soft though, open like when I last saw him two weeks ago. I suppose that means that wasn't some one-off because he felt bad about inviting my mom. He nods toward the house, inviting me in from a distance and confirming that he really meant it. He's sorry.

"That's gotta be a good sign, right?" Kyle whispers.

"Shut up," I order him through my teeth so Rigo doesn't notice, lurching forward to get it over with already.

"How you been?" Rigo asks when I approach.

"I've been fine," I blurt out nervously, nodding fast. "It's okay if I come back, right? I-I know I need a new room, so it might be an issue for me to come back without warning like this—"

"It's fine," he interrupts my rambling, smirking. He still likes to see me flustered, and that's oddly comforting. It will take some getting used to, though. Rigo and friendly haven't exactly been synonyms up to this point.

I drop my shoulders with a relieved exhale. "Thanks, Rigo."

"De nada."

He leads me inside and up to my new room. It's down a different hallway than Xavi's and Jazmin's rooms. It's near Mía's room—right beside it, in fact. I nearly choke when I get inside and see it.

There's a queen size bed, but the rest is very clearly a nursery. A white crib with baby blue linens and a matching changing table, a baby blue sofa, and stuffed animals galore. It's a baby boy's room, no doubt, and my stomach sinks.

My baby boy.

"Xavi told us you're having a boy," Rigo confirms, gesturing toward all the gender-conforming blue, "but he won't tell us his name. So you still have that."

It stings, but I don't feel justified in being upset at Xavi right now. I still did so much worse.

"I'll talk to him about telling everybody soon," I assure Rigo.

"Don't worry about that," he says with a dismissive wave to change the subject. "We'll get you into your room soon. This is just until your room is ready."

Now that he mentions it, it is strange that there's a bed in Ariel's room before my unannounced arrival. "Were you expecting me?" I ask curiously.

"Chris hoped you would come back soon, so he put the bed here for now."

I can't resist smiling as my cheeks burn up. "That's so nice of him," I comment shyly. "Please thank him for me."

He nods, stepping back toward the door. "Let me or Chris know if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

Rigo disappears out the door quickly, leaving me to settle into Ariel's future bedroom. I pull open the dresser hopefully in search of my clothes from Xavi's room, but Chris didn't think that far ahead I guess. I'd love to wait until Xavi isn't home, but not having those clothes is suddenly bothering me so much it just needs to get done now!

That settles it. I'm weaker than the most minor inconveniences. I have to swallow my pride and ask Xavi for my clothes back.

I pace around my new room a few times, trying to get some of that anxious energy out. I'm bouncing with every step and spinning on my heels each time I turn around, but my energy levels don't dip. If I get any more anxious, I just might crawl right out of my skin.

Before I can panic more and talk myself out of it, I head out the door and back down the other hallway, where Xavi's room is. It's still quiet in the house, minus the faint giggling I can hear from the playroom as I pass. My breathing chokes as I finally reach his door.

I knock twice and listen close as my heart takes off flying immediately. I don't hear a thing, but I can't tell if I'm legitimately not hearing anything, or if it's just my pulse drowning out his voice. Palpitations shake my entire torso as I knock two more times, hoping he'll answer now.

My shoulders drop. Again, nothing. He must be out.

I hesitantly turn the doorknob and peek in, still half-expecting to see him in there and upset. He's not, though. It's empty.

I walk in slowly, my eyes unable to avoid wandering all over the room I called ours for months. Every moment we shared in here replays as my gaze shifts, taunting me for losing him in the first place. The dresser is where I'm supposed to be headed, but my eyes lock onto the California King with the fluffy white duvet thrown to the side. I've been wrapped up in that duvet with him so many times that I still remember the way the cotton felt on my skin, and the way it smells just like him.

My knees buckle as I reach it, sending me face-first into the duvet as I take in two lungfuls of Xavi's sweet, woodsy musk. Then I completely fall apart.

Sobs rip out of me with such force that I'm certain everyone in the house would hear me if my face wasn't buried right now. The cavern in my chest seems to widen with each cry, aching and burning at the acknowledgement that this isn't my place anymore, and it probably never will be again.

Coming back was stupid. Why am I so stupid?

The door cracks open and I try to stifle my cries, but it's no use. Each one forces its way out miserably into the duvet as the room's new occupant approaches. I want to say something—utter an apology or crack a joke, anything—but I can't stop crying even for half a second. For fuck's sake, I can't even look at them!

Then the mattress shifts.

It's Xavi.

Just thinking his name is so painful that I wince, but I still roll over to confirm that it's him. He must have been in Chris's studio again, the one spot I never think of as a possibility, for some reason. Uncharacteristic puffiness under his eyes tells me he's exhausted, and I know that's my fault.

I did this to him.

I roll back over, crushing my face hard into the duvet as more sobs wrench free. His arms find their way around me quickly, and he pulls me close as he rests a hand on my belly. I lean back into him, pulling the duvet with me to muffle my incessant sobs.

As much as I'd like to stop, I just can't. It's all too much suddenly, and I can't hold it in anymore. Xavi doesn't urge me to. He just lays with me, holding my belly and caressing my arm softly with the back of his other hand; making me fall more in love as I grieve what I did to destroy us.

When my cries finally calm, he breaks the silence first with a husky, emotional whisper; a beautiful sound that will live in my memories for the rest of my life.

"I love you, Lola."

My hand slides up in search of his, and our fingers interlock. "I love you, too," I croak in a broken whisper, my throat still lined with sobs.

He snickers softly. "This is not how I imagined that would go."

I crack up at the mood break. "Me either."

My whole body suddenly lights on fire as his lips appear on my cheek, and I squeeze his hand even tighter. He hovers over me when he pulls away, and I turn my head to meet his gaze with a small smile. He's smiling back at me for the first time in two weeks, and those beautiful sage green eyes sparkle for me just the same as always.

"We should talk, though," he says, his smile shrinking just a bit.

My smile fades too as my body goes cold. "Yeah," I agree quietly.

He sits up properly on the edge of the bed, offering his hand to help me do the same. I struggle forward on my knees, all too aware of how pregnant I am. A lot of growth can happen in two weeks, and boy did it. I feel like an elephant!

"You're so God damn beautiful," Xavi murmurs as my legs finally slide over the edge. I look up to catch his mesmerized gaze on me.

My cheeks flush hot. "I'm not—"

"You are," he cuts me off, "and I don't want to hear you say you're not."

Easier said than done. I chew the inside of my bottom lip pensively. "I'll try not to say it anymore. No promises, though."

Where are your manners? my mother's voice reminds me.

"Oh, and thank you," I add quickly.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens with a chuckle. "You're adorable," he croons, brushing his thumb against my cheek. "And these two weeks without you have sucked, so let's talk."

"Okay," I agree hesitantly as my cheeks keep burning at his second compliment.

The way he talks, I'd almost think his intention is for us to get back together. That's just me being hopeful though, right?

He looks at the floor with a heavy sigh. "Look, obviously I'm not okay with being cheated on, much less with my sister."

I nod, though he doesn't look at me still.

"But you've obviously been going through some stuff," he continues. Finally, he looks at me earnestly. "Chris and Rigo told me a little bit of it, but I know there's more."

"A lot more," I agree. A whole mood disorder more.

He nods. "Tell me."

"I'm bipolar."

His eyes widen. "Wait, since when?"

"At least as long as I've known you," I answer with a sheepish laugh. "I started this intensive outpatient thing this morning. It all happened a lot faster than I expected."

Xavi appears puzzled. "But you seem normal to me. I thought bipolar people were crazy."

I laugh humorlessly. "I feel crazy sometimes, but I'm working on it."

"You're not crazy," he refuses. "My sisters are crazy."

"Your sisters are wonderful," I chuckle. There are only three in my head at this moment, and I imagine it's the same for Xavi.

His eyebrows shoot up skeptically. "You think so?"

My stomach tightens. "Are we already making jokes?" I ask, passive-aggressive. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

He grins boyishly as he gazes at me like I'm something to behold. "I was hoping you'd give me a good reason to forgive you for the entire last two weeks," he admits.

"For Ariel," I tell him.

"Not just for Ariel," he disagrees, shaking his head. "I mean it when I say I love you, Lola."

My heart races in excitement at his words. "So, I am forgiven?"

He smiles with pursed lips. "I just... can't give you a third chance. So I really hope you mean it when you say you're working on it."

"I mean it, I swear," I assure him. "I'll stick with therapy and do whatever the doctor recommends. Oh, I can even show you my pamphlets!" I jump up from the bed and grab his hand to drag him along.

"Okay, let's look at pamphlets," he chuckles quietly.

I lead him directly to Ariel's nursery where my belongings are waiting and drop his hand to unzip my bag. Surprisingly, the pamphlets aren't on top. They must have gotten jostled on the way upstairs. I toss a pair of shoes out, then a couple of notebooks. Xavi reaches for the notebooks while I keep searching for the pamphlets.

After another minute, I turn to Xavi with a giant grin and hold up the pamphlets triumphantly. "I found them!"

He's busy looking through my notebook, and he flips one of my drawings around to me with his head cocked to the side curiously. "What is this?"

"Oh, I just doodled that during one of my workdays with Chris and Rigo," I explain.

It's a simple drawing of a red silhouette representing Chris beside a black silhouette representing Rigo, with red and black silhouettes of their guitars beside them and a wavy rainbow in the back. It couldn't have taken more than thirty minutes to throw together.

He looks at it again, his eyes lighting up. "And the words?"

I laugh, remembering Kyle's interrogation of Chris. "Kyle kept asking Chris what made him fall in love with Rigo, and Chris kept on saying he 'can't really explain it.' So I just scribbled those words at the top of my drawing of them."

He tosses the notebook on the bed and wraps his arms around my waist with a sultry look in his eyes. "Mi amor, that would make a great series title." He places a kiss on my forehead as a smile spreads across my lips. "You should tell Chris and Rigo."

I wrap my arms around him too and bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. "Later. I have to do this for a few hours."

"What if we kiss a little, too?" he suggests in a purr, taking my chin in his hand and lifting it.

I smile weakly, getting lost in his eyes. "Good idea."

He pauses for another moment, gazing back at me with all the same love as before and more. It's as if the last two weeks apart didn't even occur. Then at last, he closes the distance and parts my lips with his for the most passionate kiss the two of us have shared.