“Te quiero, Río.” I reached into the water, found his hand, and lifted it to my chest. “You call me the moon, but it’s you. You’re the beacon. Dios mío, I’ve loved you since the moment you touched my hand through the glass.” When Río’s eyes went suddenly wide and unreadable, I hastily added, “You don’t have to say you feel the same if you don’t. Doesn’t change anything. I just wanted you to—” Río stopped my mouth with his fingertip. “Benigno, surely you know,” he breathed. “You are my heartsong.”
