T/W:

****
Thankfully, after that rough start to our trip to Chile, things calm down. While Pedro's family do tend to overwhelm me at times, I wouldn't say I'm totally comfortable with it, but I learn to cope. Besides, the majority of the time, Pedro and I out, wandering around the city, while he plays tour guide, taking me to multiple locations.

Or if we are with his family, it's usually just his dad and siblings, which I can mostly handle. His family enjoys teasing him and I find myself growing more interested in hearing the stories of when Pedro was growing up. Usually if his dad brings up something, Pedro will fake groan and immediately change the subject.

We also have plenty of alone time, in the hotel, which is my favorite time with Pedro. Though I'm not bolting like I considered that first night here, I'll still occasionally think that walking away from Pedro is in both our best interests. Yet every time I think about it, my stomach cramps up and I can easily picture the hurt look on Pedro's face.

I just don't know what to do. There are days that being with Pedro is incredible and it feels like we were meant be. Then my doubts sneak in and rob me of that joy, making me think that I don't deserve him.

Sigh.

This is a such a mess, but I guess I should just enjoy the ride for now. Because deep down, I know this won't last forever.

***

Pedro and I are stretched out on the bed in the hotel. It's late, almost eleven at night. We're both exhausted, after going on a hike with his family. I hadn't been terribly pleased with getting dragged up a mountain, most of the afternoon. But Pedro had really wanted me to go so I agreed.

My feet are killing me and I sit up, moving to massage my feet. Pedro notices and sits up, silently moving to take my feet in his lap and starts rubbing gently.

"You really got a workout earlier," he murmurs. I sigh, enjoying the feeling of his hands massaging my poor, aching feet.

"Whatever gave you that idea, Pascal?" I snap playfully and he grins, those dimples showing and making me weak.

"Oh, I don't know," Pedro teases. "By how sore your feet are?"

"And my legs," I add. "And my arms. And my body, in general?" Pedro laughs and I can't help but smile. That laugh has the same effect on me as drinking hot chocolate on a cold day.

"Those, too," Pedro agrees, still massaging my feet.

"I guess it wasn't horrible," I say, though I'm not being entirely truthful. "You just better hope I can walk when we're at the premiere."

Pedro's expression softens. He stops rubbing my feet, reaching out for me. I automatically lean towards him, allowing him to scoop me up, placing me on his lap. I curl into his chest, as he rubs my back, with an open palm.

"I'll carry you if necessary," he rumbles. I shiver.

"Hah! That'll really fuel the fire for the media! I can just see the headlines now: actress Charley Evans, is so damn lazy, she forces her boyfriend, Pedro Pascal, to carry her on the red carpet!"

Pedro rolls his eyes. "You know damn well I'd shut down those rumors in a heartbeat."

"Still, I'd prefer you wouldn't have to." Pedro continues rubbing my back, a thoughtful look on his face. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He smiles tenderly. "My dad told me the other day, how he thinks you're good for me." I straighten up, gaping at him.

"Now you're just messing with my head."

"No, I'm serious. He's smitten."

I snort. "Yeah, okay."

Pedro frowns. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Because we both know, I'm not good for you." Pedro's movements pause. I see a flash of hurt in his eyes.

"You're scared," he says quietly. "That's what this is."

I pull away, sitting on the bed, picking at a loose thread on my pj's. I don't want to argue. But it's difficult, knowing that Pedro, one day, will expect me to tell him everything that happened, all those years ago.

"Tell me I'm wrong." I look at him before sliding off the bed.

"You're wrong." Then I disappear into the bathroom, needing to out some space between us.

****

I sleep like shit that night. Which is unfortunate, as we're leaving in the morning. I wake up, for probably, the sixth time that night, and see it's almost five thirty in the morning and decide to stay up. While I'm in the bathroom, getting dressed, I hear Pedro moving around in the bedroom and emerge.

"'Morning," I mumble, moving to slip on my shoes.

"'Morning." Pedro seems as uncomfortable as I do. We do this awkward dance, pretending that everything is fine between us when it couldn't be more opposite. While I know Pedro was right, I am scared, just not for the reason he thinks.

We pack everything up and go downstairs to grab something to eat. We sit across from each other, sipping coffee and nibbling on toast and fruit.

"Is your family coming to the airport to see you off this morning?" I ask, trying to fill this uncomfortable silence. Pedro nods, not quite making eye contact.

"Yeah." He sets his coffee cup down. "Why?"

I frown, not understanding what he means. "Why...what?"

"Why do you keep me at arm's length?"

"You know why," I hiss softly, eyes narrowed. Pedro scoffs.

"Right. Your dirty little secrets."

"Don't mock me."

Pedro immediately looks remorseful. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

I stand up, secretly wishing, just briefly, that we could travel, separately. Though I don't really mean that. I'm just on edge. Pedro stands, too.

"We should head to the airport. Get checked in."

I nod, grateful to have a task and mission in mind. It's a welcome distraction from my guilt that's trying to crush me.

****
We're on our way back to Los Angeles. Neither Pedro or I, seem to have much to say to each other. He mostly listens to music, eyes closed, head resting on the back of the seat, while I listen to music and pretend to read this mystery book I brought along.

I'm extremely grateful when we finally touch down in Los Angeles. My plan is catch a cab and head straight home, isolating myself from everyone. Including Pedro.

We file off the plane, moving to the line for reentry into the states before going to collect our luggage. At last, we're leaving the airport and I feel like I never wanna fly again. Unfortunately, that's not an option for me.

We emerge from the airport terminal and out into the warmth of the late afternoon. Pedro starts heading to where his car is parked in the parking, but I head in the opposite direction, searching for an available cab. He pauses, looking at me.

"The car is this way," he says. I halt my steps.

"I know. But I think I'll just catch a cab back to my place. I'm wiped and just need some alone time," I say. Pedro frowns, but doesn't comment or argue.

"If that's what you want, fine." His tone is noticeably cool. I try to smile, but find it's difficult.

"Cool. I'll text you later?"

Pedro's jaw tightens and he gives a curt nod before proceeding to the parking garage. I watch him leave, uncertainty crowding in. I shake off the feeling of being unwanted as I make my way over to hail a cab, reminding myself, this is what I wanted.

Guess I just didn't expect Pedro to walk away so easily.

***
Once I'm home, I collapse on the couch, checking my emails and messages. There is an email from Kristen, reminding me about the premiere this weekend and that she has an appointment lined up for me, on Thursday afternoon, so I can go pick out a dress. I quickly shoot her a response before a text comes in. I expect it to be from Pedro. It's not. It's Mel.

Hey. Was wondering if you were back from Chile?

I decide to call her.

"Hey," I say.

"You back?" Mel asks.

"Only just."

"How was it?"

"All right. Pedro's family is a bit much, but I survived," I tell her.

"Not surprising," Mel says. "He's Latino. I think most Latino families are huge."

"Yeah." I zone out, absently rubbing my still sore feet.

"You okay?" Mel asks softly.

Suddenly, I'm not. Tears fill my eyes and I sniffle.

"What happened?"

"We kinda got in a fight at the end of the trip. I decided to come home, by myself," I say quietly.

"Is Pedro still harping about what you did all those years ago?" Mel asks.

"He doesn't understand the seriousness of the situation I was backed into," I sob. "He doesn't even try to. It's infuriating."

"I know, baby " Mel murmurs. She hesitates. "You could still walk away, you know."

I sigh.  "I just might."

****

I end up taking a nap and when I wake up, I see a missed call and a voicemail from Pedro. I listen.

"Hey. Just checking in on you and wanting to apologize. I shouldn't have let you go that easily. Um, if you want, call me back."

I sigh, deleting the message and go use the bathroom and grab myself some water and a snack before calling Pedro back. He answers on the second ring.

"Hey. Sorry it took a while to respond," I say. "I fell asleep."

"That's okay," Pedro says. He pauses. "Can I come over?"

"Yeah. You can. Maybe we can order some dinner?"

"Sure thing. Any suggestions?"

"Thai?"

"Perfect. I'll order it now, sending the order to your address and then I'll be over."

"Great. See you in a few."

***

Half an hour later, both Pedro and the food has arrived. We put on a movie, though we end up talking through most of it. By the end, we're both practically asleep already and go into my room, crashing.

Pedro holds me and it feels so right that I wonder why I am holding him at arm's length? Sure, my past is a constant threat, but....I sigh as I drift off, conflicted.

I want Pedro, yet I don't want him to suffer from my shitty consequences. He deserves better. But he clearly cares about me. And maybe, maybe that's enough.

For now.