Kiss & Tell ( Asa and Chiquita)

Chapter 31: Pieces of Us

Chiquita's POV

It had been a few days since we'd made the decision to start fresh, to rebuild what had broken between us. I could feel the air between Asa and me still heavy with unspoken words, like a curtain hanging between us, waiting to be pulled away.

The night we'd shared — the rawness, the vulnerability — had opened something in both of us, but there was still so much left to say. So many emotions wrapped up in a single moment, still waiting for the light of day. I didn't expect it to happen all at once. Healing wasn't that simple. But I could feel the shift, the quiet way we were learning to trust each other again.

I had a plan. A simple one. A way to show Asa that the walls between us didn't have to stay there forever, and that love didn't always need to be complicated.

I had the perfect night in mind.

I stood at the kitchen counter, humming softly to myself as I prepared dinner. I'd chosen something simple tonight: pasta with fresh basil, a little garlic, and lemon. It was a recipe I loved to make, easy and warm — and the kind of meal that could almost make you forget the world outside.

The doorbell rang just as I was about to plate the food. I wiped my hands on the towel, then quickly hurried to answer. When I opened the door, Asa was standing there, looking as stunning as ever. But there was a softness in her expression, something that hadn't been there in days. Something like a promise.

"Hi," she said, her voice tentative but warm, like she wasn't sure how to begin but still wanted to try.

"Hi," I answered, stepping aside so she could come in.

She paused for a second, looking at the table where I had set the meal out. The dim lights from the living room flickered across the plates, and the smell of garlic and basil filled the air.

"This looks... amazing," she said quietly, her gaze meeting mine.

"I wanted to cook for you," I said, a little shy. "I thought we could have a quiet night, just us."

Asa smiled, and for the first time in a while, I saw the weight lift from her eyes, replaced by something lighter. "I'd like that."

We sat down together at the table, the soft clink of silverware against porcelain the only sound for a while. I could feel the tension between us, but it wasn't the same as it had been. It wasn't suffocating anymore. It felt more like... a bridge. Something we were both willing to cross, one step at a time.

"So," Asa began, her voice hesitant, "I've been thinking about everything that happened. About what I said, and what I didn't say. And, well, I owe you an apology."

I put down my fork and looked at her, my heart skipping a beat. There was something vulnerable in her eyes, something I hadn't seen before — the genuine need to make things right.

"I should've trusted you, Chiquita," she said, her words quiet but steady. "I should've trusted us. I let my fears take over, and I didn't see you. Not the way I should've. And I'm sorry."

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing hers. She looked at my hand before meeting my eyes again. There was no anger, no judgment, just... understanding.

"I understand," I said softly. "You were scared. You're not the only one who's afraid of getting hurt. But Asa, we can't move forward if we're both holding on to the past. If we're both still carrying that weight, nothing will ever change."

She nodded, squeezing my hand gently. "I know. And I want to move forward. With you. I don't want to let fear keep us apart anymore."

I leaned across the table, my heart racing, and kissed her softly on the lips. It wasn't passionate or urgent, just tender, full of the unspoken things we hadn't yet said.

When I pulled back, I smiled at her, feeling lighter than I had in days. "We're not perfect, Asa. But we have something real. And that's enough."

She smiled back, a soft, sweet smile that reached all the way to her eyes. "That's more than enough."

Asa's POV

I never imagined that a simple meal, shared in the quiet comfort of Chiquita's home, would be the thing that finally brought us back to each other. But here we were, two people who had almost lost it all, sitting across from each other, both a little broken but somehow more whole than before.

I watched Chiquita as she moved around the kitchen, clearing the plates, her easy smile lighting up the space between us. There was something about her — about the way she didn't need to be perfect, the way she could still make me feel like the most important person in the room. It was a quality I had never known I needed until I met her.

I stood up from the table, crossing the room to where she was stacking the dishes.

"I'm sorry, too," I said, my voice low. "I should've trusted you more. I should've believed in us instead of letting my own insecurities get in the way."

She turned to face me, and I could see the warmth in her eyes, the understanding in the way she looked at me. "We both made mistakes. But it's okay. We're learning. Together."

"I don't want to hurt you, Chiquita," I whispered. "I don't want to push you away."

She took a step closer, her hands on my arms, grounding me in her presence. "And you won't. I'm here, Asa. For the messy moments, for the hard ones, for the ones that feel impossible. I'm here."

And for the first time in a long time, I felt something deep inside me — a quiet sense of peace. I didn't have all the answers. I didn't know how the rest of our story would play out. But I knew one thing: I wasn't going to lose her. Not now, not ever.

Chiquita stepped closer, her fingers tracing the curve of my jaw. "Can I show you something?" she asked softly.

I nodded, my heart beating faster at the gentle request.

She smiled, her eyes bright. "Come here."

She took my hand and led me to the small balcony outside. The night was clear, the stars above us twinkling like tiny diamonds in the sky. The city hum buzzed in the distance, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of us — like the whole world had fallen away, leaving only us.

She stepped in front of me, her hands resting lightly on my waist, her body close enough that I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine.

"Look up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I lifted my gaze to the stars, and for a moment, I forgot about everything. The mistakes, the fear, the hurt. It was just us, standing under the sky, together.

"I've never been good at this," Chiquita said, her fingers brushing my cheek. "At saying the things I feel. But I need you to know something. Something I should've said a long time ago."

I turned to her, searching her face for the words, the emotion I knew was coming.

"I love you, Asa," she said, her voice steady now, her gaze unwavering. "I love you, even when we're messy. Even when we're scared. I love you."

Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. It was the simplest truth, but the most powerful. The kind of love that didn't require perfection, didn't need to be fixed. It was just love. Pure and real.

And I didn't have to say anything in return, because Chiquita already knew. She'd already heard me, seen me in all the ways I'd been too afraid to show her.

"I love you, too," I whispered, the words finally spilling out of me, like something I had been holding on to for far too long.

She smiled, a soft, radiant smile that made my heart ache. "Then let's not waste any more time, Asa. Let's just love each other. In all the ways we know how."

I leaned in and kissed her, this time not with hesitation, not with doubt, but with everything I had.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was exactly where it was meant to be.