Текст книги "Love, in English"

Автор книги: Karina Halle

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next day was Sunday and a day that Mateo thought I should finally meet his little Chloe Ann. I was extremely nervous, especially with what had happened with Sonia at the bar. After I had gone outside, Mateo explained to his friend that he and Isabel were divorcing. He didn’t say anything about me, I guess that was pretty explanatory. And even though Sonia had been his friend—an ex-girlfriend of one of his buddies—and not Isabel’s, he said he could feel the hate coming off of her.

It definitely put a damper on the evening and made me realize with a kick to the gut that we couldn’t be a normal couple, not yet anyway. We were hanging around fun restaurants and bars not just because of me, but because he didn’t want to run into people like Sonia. Claudia and Ricardo were the first friends we’d met in a long time, I hadn’t seen his parents yet, and it seemed like there was an awful lot of hiding going on.

When I brought the subject up over our hung over breakfast, the feeling that our relationship was as sequestered as it had ever been, he told me that he’d go pick up Chloe Ann and we could take her to the zoo, one of her favorite places.

He called up Isabel and I listened to their conversation blatantly, mainly because I didn’t understand any of it. There were a few tense moments, the heel of Mateo’s hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. Finally, it seemed she acquiesced and he let out a sigh of relief.

I, however, was a bundle of raw nerves. This was his daughter we were talking about. And I knew she had no idea who I was. Mateo had told me that though Isabel knew there was another woman he met at Las Palabras, she didn’t know I was here, living with him, so Chloe Ann definitely didn’t know about me.

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked later as he was grabbing his keys off the hook on the wall, about to leave. “Who will you tell Chloe Ann I am?”

He gave me a soft look. “I will tell her you are a friend of mine from another country, Canada, and that you are very nice.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and folded my arms. “That’s it? I mean, don’t you think she’ll tell Isabel about me? Don’t you think that maybe you should tell her about me anyway? I mean, the thing with Sonia…it’ll happen again, don’t you think?”

He nodded and exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked defeated. He stared at his feet for a moment before he looked back at me, a quiet desperation on his brow. “Vera, I just want you to see Chloe Ann. I want her to see you. You’re the most important girls in my life. So…I will ask a favor from you. Will you do me a favor?”

I couldn’t say no to him. “What?”

“Today, when I bring her back here, can you cover up your tattoos? Put your hair up. And I will call you Estrella.”

I felt my stomach freefall. I frowned, feeling disturbed. “You want me to hide who I am? Pretend to be someone else?”

His lips curved into a sympathetic smile. “No, Vera. Just…you are so lovely, so full of life. You’re distinctive. You’re right, I need to tell Isabel about you. But I also want you to see Chloe Ann, and I don’t want Isabel to hear it from her.”

“I don’t think I like this.”

“Please? Just this once.”

“She’ll still probably say she met Daddy’s friend Estrella, what’s the difference?”

“Please.”

I sighed, running my hand through my hair in frustration. “Fine.”

He came over and held me tight, a quick embrace. “Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”

And then he left.

I leaned back against the hallway wall, my legs splayed in front of me, barely keeping me up. This was getting so complicated, and it would only continue to be complicated until…well, I didn’t know when it would end. Things never got tidied up the minute a couple got divorced. It seemed, from what I’d seen, that the divorce itself was the easiest part and all the real shit is what came afterward, shit that went on for years.

And then I understood why Mateo wanted to keep me so hidden, so under wraps. Lucia had said that being with me wouldn’t reflect poorly on him to a judge, and while that may or may not be true, it obviously wasn’t what Mateo thought. He feared that if Isabel knew I was living with him, that it would affect his chances of getting joint custody of Chloe Ann. And I knew that if I was just some other woman, it probably wouldn’t be as much of a problem.

But I was me. I had all the tattoos, the piercings, the way I dressed, the way I was, the fact that I was fifteen years younger. I was sure that Isabel could spin me into anything she wanted; all she’d have to do was point to me and call me dangerous, a delinquent, a threat to her child.

For the first time in my entire life, I felt a cut of regret at all my tattoos.

But Mateo loves you for you, I told myself. Because of all those things that make you who you are.

I knew I was right. I knew that had I been someone else, someone older, no ink, someone prudish and classy and demure, that Mateo wouldn’t have fallen in love.

It was just such a shame that the reasons Mateo fell in love with me were the very same ones that could be used to rip his life apart.

With that heaviness weighing down on my heart, I went into the bedroom and changed into skinny jeans and my Freddie Mercury long-sleeved tee. I brushed my hair back and knotted it in a bun at the back. I took my dark eye makeup down a touch, but unfortunately that only highlighted my age. There was really nothing that could be done about that. Thankfully to a five-year-old, every adult looked the same—old.

While I was waiting for him to come back, I started pacing the apartment, trying to take my mind off of things, this terrible feeling of dread that had started building up in my gut after we saw Sonia last night, like the week of sex and fun was over and now things had to get very real and very serious. I’d only spoken to Josh once since I got here, but I had a feeling I was going to need his advice again. I couldn’t burden Mateo with this exact thing. He already had enough to worry about.

Suddenly my cell rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. It was Mateo.

“Hey, where are you?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper. “Do you mind coming to meet me at the zoo instead?”

The fuck was going on? “What? Why?”

“Please,” he said. “It will work better this way. Trust me.”

I exhaled sharply through my nose. “Fine. How do I get there?”

He gave me directions that sounded far more complicated than I wanted to deal with. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

Nearly an hour later, after I’d gotten off at the wrong Metro stop, I slogged my way through the heat up to the zoo, which was set in a beautiful park. After I paid my way in, I watched the signs to the Panda exhibit. Apparently it was one of the more popular attractions and Chloe Ann was obsessed with pandas. I was tempted to snatch up one of the stuffed ones I saw for sale in the kiosks, but thought that would probably come across as a bit creepy, a random lady giving a child a toy.

I kept my eyes peeled for them, taking in the sights, the smells, the screaming children, the families. It was kind of weird to be in this atmosphere, so wholesome and normal.

Eventually I spotted Mateo in the crowd. With Chloe Ann up on his shoulders, it wasn’t hard. I stood there, watching, unseen, just wanting to observe him and his daughter together.

She was certainly a precious little thing. She had on blue leggings, a white t-shirt that already seemed to have some sort of stain on it, and little blue running shoes on her feet. Her profile was dainty and cute—she got Isabel’s delicate nose and Mateo’s full lips—and she had long sandy brown hair that waved and shimmered in the sun. I was surprised at how at ease she seemed with Mateo, holding on to his head and occasionally smacking him playfully in the face over something. Sometimes she’d kick her heels into his chest, like he was a horse, and he’d try and take her closer. Unfortunately, the crowd in front of the pandas was so thick that even I couldn’t see what they were all staring at.

While they stood there, she talked to him, nearly non-stop, always smiling. In turn, Mateo was smiling too, a big, beautiful smile that made his face glow. It was almost heartbreaking to know what was going on outside of this picture, and once again the guilt started eating away at me.

I didn’t know how long I was planning on being a stalker but eventually Mateo’s sixth sense kicked in. He swivelled his head and his dark eyes came right to me.

I lifted my hand up quickly in a soft wave. He smiled back and then said something to Chloe Ann. The girl scrunched up her face, not happy about this no more panda thing, and he brought her over to me.

I didn’t know what to do or say, how to act, how to stand, so I just stared at him while he stopped right in front of me. Chloe Ann’s eyes were not noticing me at all—they were looking in the distance at what other animals lurked out there.

“Hola,” Mateo said to me warmly.

So I was speaking Spanish now?

Chloe Ann finally looked at me, peering down inquisitively. “Hola,” she said in a tiny voice.

I smiled at her. “Hola. Me llamo es Estrella.” And I was totally butchering the language already.

“Mateo,” he said, gesturing to himself. He tapped her leg. “Chloe Ann.” Then he began speaking to her quickly in Spanish and I could only stare, smile, and nod, like I totally had a clue what was being said.

Chloe Ann smiled at me after he finished talking and he gently lowered her to the ground. She ran over and grabbed my hand, tugging lightly at it. “Vamos!” she cried out, giggling, and started to pull me toward the panda enclosure. I laughed in surprise and raised my brows at Mateo.

“Pandas,” he said, rocking back on his heels and watching us go. “Su favorito.”

I guess he had told his daughter something about pandas either being her or my favorite, because she led me over to the crowd and was pointing in their direction, saying a bunch of stuff. I could only nod and keep saying, “Si, si,” over and over again but that seemed to be enough to keep her satisfied. She just kept talking and talking. It was the cutest thing ever, and I felt some maternal part of me that I had always assumed was dormant starting to flicker.

I felt Mateo’s presence behind me, amazed at the energy he radiated without even touching me. “I told her that Estrella has never been to the zoo before,” he whispered in my ear, “and your favorite animal is the panda.”

“She didn’t question how you knew that?” I whispered back.

“No. What her father says is usually the truth.”

Usually.

Soon, Chloe Ann grew tired of the crowds, so she led me and Mateo toward the tigers, taking both of our hands in hers. I was amazed at how brave and comfortable she was with a supposed stranger like myself. I thought maybe she could pick up on how relaxed Mateo was around me, but I could also tell she was just a happy, adventurous little thing.

Mateo beamed at me, at his daughter between us. My heart did back flips at the content expression on his face—there was nothing but love for this moment. We found the tigers, Chloe Ann telling me all about them. I kept saying, “Grande gato” and she kept correcting me with impatience. When we were done with that, we found a little café to sit at and had something to eat. Chloe Ann only stopped talking when she was devouring her ice cream cone, something she relished so completely that I had the impression she wasn’t allowed treats like this normally. Dad was spoiling her.

When she was done, he plucked her out of her seat and put her in his lap, making silly faces at her and blowing raspberries on her forehead. She giggled uncontrollably, loving it, wiping her ice cream sticky fingers on his shirt. He didn’t care.

Watching their interaction, I was flooded with warmth. My uterus started kicking at me. It kind of hurt.

Then he said something to her about “adios” and suddenly Chloe Ann’s face fell like a brick. Her lower lip stuck out, brow scrunching together. She wailed something to him, talking fast, punctuated by hiccups.

Mateo kept apologizing, trying to sound light. She shook her head and buried it in Mateo’s neck, growing quiet, her little arms wrapped around her. He held her close and shot me a look—it was the look of his heart breaking.

Eventually he had to get up, and he held Chloe Ann to him like that as we walked toward the park exit. At the sight of the gift shop though, her tears seemed to dry up and she pointed excitedly at a stuffed monkey. Mateo let her down and she ran over to it, holding it to her chest.

“What was that about?” I asked him.

“I told her it was time to take her home,” he admitted softly. “She asked when I was coming home. Said she missed me and wanted me to tell her stories at night. I told her I wasn’t coming home anymore.” His eyes were getting watery. He sighed. “It’s been like this every time I see her. I wish I could see her more, but until the divorce is final, Isabel keeps it to just once a week.”

“But legally she can’t do that,” I said. “If your divorce isn’t final, you’re just separated. You have the rights.”

He nodded slowly. “I know. But I don’t want to fight Isabel right now, not with Chloe Ann on the line. I have done and will do what I can to make Isabel happy, to keep whatever peace there is.”

The gravity of the situation sank over me. The desperation in Mateo’s voice was unmistakable. My eyes stung. “I’m a terrible person,” I blurted out, unable to keep it inside.

Mateo’s eyes widened with shock. “Don’t you ever say that,” he whispered harshly, his gaze fiery. “You don’t ever say that about yourself, understand?”

“Papa!” Chloe Ann cried out. He slowly tore his eyes off of mine and looked over at her. She jumped up and down, the monkey raised above her head, a pleading look in her eyes. “Por favor, Papa!”

He sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Si, Chloe Ann,” he said and walked over to her, taking the monkey from her hands and walking it to the counter. She followed him, hanging on to the edge of his shirt and pulling at it with excitement.

I breathed in deeply, trying to ease the tightness of my chest. The pain came back, however, when Mateo and Chloe Ann—and the monkey—came out of the store. Mateo stopped and waved at me. “Adios,” he said and his daughter said the same. Then they walked away.

I guess I had to leave separately too. I wondered if all our lives were ever going to truly come together.

* * *

The week went on with a bit of a damper on things. While the weather was still hot and humid, I felt like the mugginess was becoming a glove around my throat. I stopped finding the heat to be beautiful; instead I found it oppressive and annoying, my patience being tested. I did what I could to seem cheery for Mateo, to try and assimilate into my new life. While he was at work, I explored the city on my own, until I had a really good feeling for the neighborhoods. I liked Madrid—a lot. But I couldn’t shake the knot of unease in my stomach.

I talked to Josh on the phone, and though his advice was along the lines of, “No one ever said this would be easy, the hard things are worth it. Hang in there,” just hearing his voice and having someone to vent to made me feel better. I talked to Claudia too, but I didn’t get very in-depth. I guess I was afraid she’d think I regretted moving here and that really wasn’t the case.

By Thursday, Mateo came home to see me sitting on the couch and flipping absently through the TV channels, not understanding a word of it. Rain had started to fall from a dark grey sky but the heat pressed at the windows from the outside.

“That is it,” he said, tossing his briefcase on the kitchen counter. “I miss my smiling Estrella.”

I turned to look at him, plastering a smile on my face. “What are you talking about?”

“You aren’t very good at lying,” he said. He came over and sat beside me. He was wearing a sharp navy blue suit today, including a waistcoat. He had a meeting with a client from the UK, someone who was supposedly interested in franchising his restaurant.

“How was your meeting?” I asked, wanting the subject off of me.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It is a tough sell. I think they thought I was still some big football star and that’s why they were eager to meet. I am not sure what my partner told them, but they looked a bit disappointed.”

“No one could be disappointed with you,” I said, pulling him to me and kissing him softly. The feel of his lips and tongue still made my nerves tingle, as if they were stroked by lightning. “Besides, they could always Google you if they had the inclination to do a bit of research.”

“Have you Googled me?” he asked curiously.

I gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “Of course,” I said. “I wanted to find naked pictures of you, something to get off to while I was in Vancouver.”

He grinned slowly and cocked a brow. “I like that. Did you find any?”

I shook my head. “No. Did you know there is a really fat man from Mexico called Mateo Casalles? He doesn’t have a problem having naked pictures of him.”

He laughed. “Good to know.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ears and tugged on it. “So, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Did I like surprises anymore? I wasn’t sure.

“Well, I have two surprises, one you will probably like more than the other. Tonight we are going for dinner at my parents’ house.”

I tried to keep the smile on my face, I really did. But my anxiety wouldn’t let me.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said with a gentle expression. “They will love you and you will love them. And if you don’t love them, you will love Carmen’s food.” Carmen was his stepmother, and he never referred to her as Mom. “Lucia will be there too, of course, and she may bring that man of hers that she’s seeing, so you don’t have to be the only one feeling awkward. He has also not met them yet.”

Well, that would help a bit. I exhaled. I knew I’d have to meet them at some point, but the idea still terrified me. Despite what Lucia said about them, I was so afraid that they wouldn’t like me. I needed them to like me, to like Mateo and I together.

“And,” he went on, “as your reward for getting through dinner, as well as an attempt to put a smile on your face again, and to escape this damn heat, I am taking us tomorrow morning to Barcelona. I took time off work and there are no more meetings with the lawyer for a bit—we can stay in the apartment there. Five days on the beach. What do you say?”

Well, that did put an actual smile on my face.

“Really?” I exclaimed. “We can just go there?”

“Of course,” he said. “You are my Estrella. Anything for you.”

“Anything?” I asked seductively. I slowly raised the hem of my skirt until he saw I wasn’t wearing underwear.

I could practically see him salivating, his eyes going glossy with lust. “Especially that,” he growled. I lay back on the couch as he buried his head in between my legs.

Soon, I was smiling a second time.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It took me ages to get ready for his parents’ house. I was trying on everything I owned, experimenting with my hair and makeup, trying to make myself look as demure as possible. I eventually settled on a long-sleeved navy blue dress, form-fitting but cleavage-covering, and pulled my hair back into a braid that covered up the tats on my neck. I wasn’t taking any chances with these people.

On the car ride over there, I was starting to crack a bit. My breathing felt restricted, my thoughts chaotic. I kept rubbing my palms over and over again on my dress. I’d had panic attacks as a teenager, after the divorce, and this felt like one of those episodes all over again.

I couldn’t hide it from Mateo. He took one look at me and pulled the car over to the side of the highway, so private and public at the same time.

“Vera,” he said, twisting in his seat, putting his hands on my face. “Look at me, Vera.”

I managed to meet his eyes, overwhelmed by the panic in them, as if he was feeling how I was feeling, absorbing my emotions for his own.

“Vera,” he said, his voice low, soothing but strong. “You’re okay. You are with me, yes? You are here and you are okay. Just breathe. Breathe in slowly. Breathe out slowly.”

I did as he asked, trying to focus on my breath going in and out of my body. Eventually my heart rate slowed and I was starting to feel more centered and in control.

“Oh, my Estrella,” he said softly. He pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “What happened?” he murmured.

I swallowed. “I don’t know,” I said weakly. “I just…I’m just so afraid. So afraid.”

He sighed and wrapped his arms around me. “I know you are. And it’s okay to be afraid. But, you will see…my parents are not your parents.” I flinched slightly, the memories of my mother and Mercy slamming into me. I had told him all about them—he knew. He went on, “You deserve good people in your life and happiness. Trust me, my family is good people.”

“They won’t like me,” I said, nearly sobbing. “The deck is stacked against us, Mateo. There are too many things wrong about me.”

“Vera,” he said sharply. He pulled back and peered intently into my eyes, commanding me to listen to him. “Do you know why I love you?”

I tried to think, and in my frazzled state came up with nothing. “I have no idea.”

“I love you because you are you. You’re a little bit crazy, and I find that more interesting than being normal. You’re passionate and I find that more fascinating than being calm. You’re curious and adventurous and sexual, and you’re full of life and you make me want to be a better man, to live louder, to bend and break all the damn rules.” He kissed me hard and I was so shocked by it, shocked by his words, I didn’t have time to reciprocate before he broke away. “And those are all the reasons why my parents will fall in love with you too.”

I gave him a shy smile. “Well, except for the sexual bit.”

“Hey, they are happy as long as I am happy. And Vera, you make me happier than I have ever been. Even now, even with all this shit going on around us, I am still happy because I have you—by my side and in my bed. We will get through this. I promise you. I swear on the stars.” He raised my hand to his lips and ran them over my knuckles.

My lip quivered. Fuck, I was getting really tired of getting so weepy all the time, but at least now these were happy tears.

Mr. and Mrs. Casalles lived in a two-story stucco house on the outskirts of the city, in a nicely kept suburban neighborhood. It kind of reminded me of home, except all the houses had this wonderful Spanish-style architecture and the gardens were a lot more colorful.

Mateo pulled the car up into the driveway beside Lucia’s Mercedes. It was funny—the car that Mateo drove was just a black SUV, nowhere near as flashy as his sister’s, even though he could obviously afford a Mercedes himself. I liked that about Mateo, how he had quite a bit of wealth, but aside from the suits and the apartments, he didn’t really flaunt it.

I got out of the car, conscious of my every step, every movement, walking in slow motion. He came around to my side and looped his arm through mine.

“Did I tell you yet how beautiful you look?” he asked, grinning down at me.

“No,” I said. “Did I forget to tell you the same?”

He stroked along his beard, holding his face in his hand. “This old thing?”

We walked up the stairs to the porch and rang the doorbell. I was surprised he didn’t barge right into the house.

I held my breath as I heard footsteps on the other side. The door opened and an older man with a thick grey beard and glasses peered out at us. He was a tad shorter than Mateo, slightly portly, and I was immediately reminded of a thinner George R. R. Martin. He even had a fisherman’s cap on.

“Papa,” Mateo said with a respectful nod.

His father smiled only slightly at his son and then fixed his eyes on me. He raised his bushy silver eyebrows and said something in Spanish to Mateo.

Mateo looked to me. “Papa doesn’t speak English. But he thinks you’re very pretty.”

Now I raised my brow. That didn’t seem like what he said.

Luckily there wasn’t time to stand on the porch and think about it. He opened the door wider and Mateo led us inside.

The home itself was cozy and inviting. Very Spanish—lots of tapestries, some Dali and Picasso prints among pastoral landscape paintings, walls of color mixed with wood. It smelled amazing, like herbs and olive oil.

“Mateo!” a woman cried, coming out from what I assumed was the kitchen, wiping her hands on her messy apron. This must have been Carmen, and at first I was shocked at how young she looked until I remembered that his father had waited ten years before he remarried.

She put Mateo’s face in her hands, squeezing it until I had to laugh, then kissed him twice on each cheek. She was a tall woman with a lively, friendly face. When she finally focused on me and I could see that same warmth in her eyes, I knew she was just a friendly, good person.

She came right over to me and embraced me like I was an old friend. “Vera,” she said, her accent heavy. “I am so happy to meet you, Vera. I have been asking Mateo about you.”

I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say. She pulled away, and with a firm grasp on my shoulders, looked me up and down. “You are very beautiful. Such a lovely face.” She looked at Mateo. “She is an angel, Mateo.”

“More like an angel in disguise,” he said gleefully, biting his lip at the daggers I was shooting him.

“Oh, you are no good,” Carmen said to him. She looked back to me. “Are you hungry? I hope you are hungry.” She started leading me toward the living room. “Come, come, sit down.”

Mateo’s father said something but Carmen waved him away. “Quiet Sebastian,” she admonished him. “Mateo’s father doesn’t speak a word of English but don’t worry, he is more harmless than he looks. He thinks he’s turned into Hemingway in his old age.”

I wanted to make a remark about George R. R. Martin but decided not to push it. I had a tendency to gang up on people when I was trying to make friends.

Carmen sat me down on a worn velvet sofa. Mateo joined me while his father and Carmen disappeared into the kitchen.

“You are doing great,” Mateo said to me, putting his arm over my shoulder. “Carmen is very lovely.”

“Yes, she is.”

His father came out a moment later holding a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. He gave us one each and poured the bottle of red into our glasses. Mateo thanked him and he only grunted, shuffling back into the kitchen.

“My father is shy,” Mateo said. “And, well, he can be a bit of a grump before he’s had his wine. He will loosen up later, you will see. I bet he is nervous about you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because he doesn’t speak English and wishes he did,” he said. “He always wanted to learn, he just never got around to it.”

“Maybe I can teach him English one day,” I suggested. “Apparently I am good at it.”

“You are,” he said, clinking the edge of his glass against mine. “And even the fact that you would offer that makes me very, very happy.”

We finished our wine while Carmen worked in the kitchen. Eventually his father came out and made small talk with Mateo, becoming more animated the more wine he drank. Then Lucia came down, a sullen look on her pretty face.

“What is wrong, sister?” Mateo asked in English, giving her a hug.

She shrugged. “Carlos isn’t coming for dinner. He is working late. Again.”

She came over to me and gave me a quick hug. “Nice to see you again, Vera,” she said sincerely, even though she was pouting a bit.

“Fuck Carlos,” Mateo said.

“Mateo!” Carmen admonished him from the kitchen. “Please be nice.”

He laughed. “I am serious, Lucia. He is always cancelling on these dinners. When are you going to give him the boot?”

She glared at him. “His reasons are all true. Don’t be so overprotective.”

He sat back down, pulling me against him. “I am not overprotective. I am just getting annoyed that you are dating the invisible man, that is all. I mean, how do you even kiss him if you can’t see his face? Seems complicated, yes?”

I elbowed him, feeling like Carmen. “Be nice.”

He grinned at me like a jackass. “What? It’s true. I wonder about such things.”

I rolled my eyes, though secretly I was enjoying the banter between the two. Playful Mateo was always fun and he really loved to rile Lucia up who fell into his trap every single time.

Dinner was pretty much the same thing, except that his father was smiling a lot more. He asked me a few questions too, which eager beaver Lucia translated for me. The food was amazing—finally some authentic homemade paella that wasn’t made for tourists—and there were endless bottles of wine. I was pretty buzzed, laughing at everything, while Mateo stayed sober so he could drive us home. And by the time that came, I actually didn’t want to leave. I had a long embrace with Carmen and even Sebastian seemed affectionate enough when we said our goodbyes. For all his grump, there was an innate kindness in his eyes.

In the car ride back, I told Mateo that I had been terribly wrong about his family.

“I told you so,” he chided me. “They are good people and they trust me.”

“I wish everyone was good like they are,” I said.

“Yes, the world would be better,” he said. “But frankly, I am grateful for them and the way things are. Sometimes you don’t need everyone on your side, you only need a few.”

I smiled and prayed someday I would take that to heart.

A few beats of silence passed, that kind of comfortable air that happens when you’re riding in a car at night, only the sound of wheels on the dark highway and the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“You know what we should do?” he eventually asked.

“What?”

“When we get back from Barcelona, we should have a party. Let’s invite everyone from Las Palabras, all the ones who live here or nearby.”

My smile nearly broke my face. “That is a fantastic idea!”

“I thought you would like it,” he said. He put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “We deserve some fun and friends, no?”

That night we got home and tore each other’s clothes off, barely making it in through the door. I hoped I was able to show Mateo just how beautiful he made me feel.