SEÑORITA -- Shawn Mendes

Part 8

You think about your mom. How much you loved her and how much you still miss her and probably will until your last day on Earth. Her pretty smile, her favorite dress, her sweet scent, the way she wrinkled her nose when she was deep in her thoughts and the shine that never disappeared from her eyes. You think about the days you took her for granted and thought you have endless days with her, only to realize her days were very limited. You think about the way you felt when you found out your mom probably won't be there when you get married, she won't meet your children and she won't be the cute little granny she always wanted to be.

You regret everything you never told her.

You think about your dad. How much you wanted to know who he is and the way you dreamed about a tall, nice man arriving to the house one day and telling you that he is your father. How you felt when you saw the kids in school get picked up by their dads and the jealousy you felt when you saw a kid with their dad on the street. You think about all the times you wished your mom would just bring him home and finally introduce him to you. You just hoped you are everything he has ever wished for in a daughter, even if he doesn't know about you.

You regret never digging more into your past and not trying to find him.

You think about Rosie. How much she has given you since the day you met her. You have never had someone like her, a best friend. You think about all the fun you've had together, the laughs you shared at work. How grateful you are for her, because you didn't think you could laugh again after your mom's death, but she did it, she brought you back to life and has been your partner in crime since then.

You regret never really telling her how much she means to you.

And you think about Shawn. The thought of him makes your already messed up stomach churn. You remember the first time you saw him crystal clear. That smug smile on his perfectly shaped lips, his hair that you wanted to mess up with your fingers so bad the moment you laid your eyes on him and the way he called you Señorita. You loved it, the way it rolled down his tongue made you feel things every time and your heart aches thinking about how long it has been since the last time you heard him call you that. You think about how it feels to wake up in his strong arms, to nuzzle your face into his bare chest, how his cologne filled the room every morning when he got ready. You think about how scared you were at the beginning to let him get closer to you, but you fell for him harder than you thought it's possible. He became your other half and you're pretty sure he is the one your mother told you about. She always talked about how one man will change the whole world for you, but you didn't believe her, you thought she was too romantic in the heart, but Shawn fulfilled her prophecies. You miss his touch, his kiss, his eyes, his lips, you miss the way he walks, talks and you would give anything to tell him how much you love him one more time.

You don't regret letting him walk away that night. You're doing this for him.

The air in the car is suffocating you and you keep looking down at your chest to make sure the mic is hidden. It's the first time you are wired up. For God's sake, why would have you been ever wired up? It's not like you try to bust drug dealers every week.

The guard Wade sent to pick you up is to say the least quite a scary and disgusting dude, his whole head is tattooed and you're sure he could break you with just a snap of his fingers. He can barely fit into the Rover.

Aaliyah was the first one who begged you to get out of the plan, she said it went too far and you're playing with your life, but you thought it's now or never.

"You're literally getting yourself killed," she told you that night when you went over to Connor's and she was there too.

"Police will be waiting nearby," you said confidently, even though you'd been having nightmares for a week and since Shawn wasn't there with you anymore sleeping wasn't something you got a lot of.