Текст книги "Love, in English"

Автор книги: Karina Halle

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-One

On Saturday night, my last night in Madrid, Claudia and Ricardo took me out to the bars. I hadn’t really left the apartment for two weeks, and definitely hadn’t gone back into the city, so I felt like I had to have the Madrid experience one last time.

We walked through cobblestone streets, the night soft on our shoulders, the air filled with laughter. I hung on to every single smell—garlic, chilies, fish—and on to every sound—the chatter of Spanish, the classical guitar that wafted out of the bars, the cries of people having a good time. I soaked up everything that assaulted my senses because I knew, I knew, it was my last time to ever experience this place.

I wanted to leave on a good note. I wanted Madrid to brand me, make one last mark on my soul that I wouldn’t forget.

And because of this openness, this willingness to take what I could get while I could get it, I kept thinking that maybe by luck, maybe by chance, maybe by the fate of those motherfucking stars, I would run into Mateo. Just to see him one last time.

What I wouldn’t give to see his beautiful face one last time.

My god I loved that man.

And that night, I allowed myself to feel every part of that love. Everything he had ever made me feel. I rolled in the memories, letting them scar my skin. I relived them, telling myself that I was lucky to have known him, to have been loved like that, to have loved like I did. I’d told myself that our love never had been free, but that was a lie. I had loved him freely, beyond restraint or constriction.

I had loved and always would love Mateo Casalles.

There was no one else.

Claudia, Ricardo, and I were winding down the night at some quiet bar when I got a call from Josh. I took the phone outside, staggering a bit thanks to the copious amounts of sangria.

“Hello?” I said into the phone as a bunch of drunk chicks stumbled past me.

“Vera,” Josh said. “Hey, you got a minute?” He was slurring a bit which made me think he was probably drunk.

“Kind of,” I said. “Just out in the city. Last night and everything.”

“Right. Good.”

“Josh.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you call?”

“There is something I’m not supposed to tell you.”

I pursed my lips for a moment. “Well, now you know you have to tell me, right?”

“Vera, Mom didn’t buy you that plane ticket.”

“Okay…”

“Mateo did.”

Stunned.

I was absolutely stunned.

“What?” I hissed into the phone. “Why? How?”

He sighed. “He called my cell the other day. I guess he knew the number for emergencies or whatever. He asked to speak to Mom.”

“I don’t understand.” My heart started pounding wildly in my throat, at just the thought of Mateo calling my brother, talking to my mom.

“Mom said he made her promise not to tell you. He had heard that you needed a way home. He offered to pay for your ticket. Mom said sure. He told her that you needed to be with people you loved. That he was sorry. That this was a gift. That you should have your family with you.”

I was utterly conflicted over this. Completely torn down the middle. One side of me appreciated the gesture, the generosity of Mateo that had never failed me so far. That he was mature enough to understand what I wanted, to want to help me even if it cost him.

The other side of me was splintering. Because he was telling me it was okay to leave. He was giving me his blessing. The flight was a parting gift. It was only fair—he flew me to Spain to begin with.

“Vera?” Josh asked.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the heel of my hand into my forehead, trying to put some sense in my brain.

“Are you okay?”

“I guess.”

“Should I have not told you?”

I thought about it. “I guess if you hadn’t…maybe I would have wondered if he hated me. But…now I know he doesn’t. He just finally agrees with me. That I did the right thing.”

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “I guess so. I’m sorry.”

I breathed out and looked up at the sky. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“I have your info. Mom and I will see you at the airport.”

I hung up the phone and stared out at the plaza across from me, at the people enjoying the Saturday night, the vibrancy in the air. I always felt like I belonged here. Even with the shit Mateo and I had gone through, I still felt like Madrid was my home. Hell, I felt Mateo was my home too. There had never been a moment that I thought I didn’t belong here.

I was going to miss this place, the way it made me move, made me dance, made me love, made me live. And now I was leaving. I could only hope that the Vera that returned to Canada could manage to hold on to Spain somewhere deep inside her soul.

I had lost it once before. I didn’t want to lose it again.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up slightly hung over—it was a fitting goodbye to Spain. After Josh’s call, I went back inside the bar and decided to keep drinking and dancing my face off. Eventually I told Claudia about Mateo’s purchase. She was actually upset, not understanding why Mateo would send me off without a fight. It didn’t seem like him.

“Maybe he’s going to be at the airport,” Ricardo spoke up from the backseat as Claudia drove me to the airport.

I would be totally fucking lying if I hadn’t been secretly wishing for that the whole entire time. What woman didn’t want the dramatic airport reunion scene, the guy running up to her gate at the last minute? I had hoped that maybe that was Mateo’s plan. Seemed I wasn’t the only one.

“That would be more like Mateo,” Claudia said. She gave me a quick look. “But if that doesn’t happen, are you going to be okay? You’re going to need to be okay if he doesn’t show up.”

I sucked in a breath and stared out the window at the Spanish landscape as it flew by. Of course it was nice and hot on the day I left. It would probably be raining when I got home. And would I be okay? Would I be okay with Mateo never showing up, with going back to Canada as planned, alone, on my own, with a scattered life to return to?

Would I be okay?

No.

I wouldn’t be.

Not at first.

But in time, somewhere, deep inside I knew I would be. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not a week from now, maybe not a year. But at some point in time, in this universe and among these stars, I was going to be okay just being me. Just being Vera Miles.

With that strengthening thought, we arrived at the airport. I hugged Claudia and Ricardo at the curb, not wanting to delay our goodbye any longer.

Claudia held me tight, crying into my hair. “I promise to come to Vancouver. Ricardo and I. We’ll do it as soon as we save up. Maybe in the winter for skiing? You could take us to Whistler Mountain.”

“Absolutely,” I said, hoping that Claudia would stay true to her word, that she wouldn’t forget about me over time, forget about what she meant to me. I wanted her as a friend for life, someone to overcome distance and cultures. I think we could make it last.

At least I had that.

I dried away stray tears with my knuckles, trying not to smudge my makeup. I smiled at the two of them, putting on my brave face. “Well,” I said. “Adios.”

Claudia and Ricardo both waved at me sadly. I pulled my bags toward the checkout counter and turned back to see them one last time. Claudia was crying into Ricardo’s shoulder and he was leading her back to the car. I felt my throat pinch again, the sobs wanting to escape. I took in a deep breath and sucked it down.

I went to the Air Canada counter and put on a fake smile that I could barely wear, getting my tickets and checking my bags. All the while I kept looking over my shoulder and searching for Mateo. Was he going to come? Would he show up? Dammit, he had to do it soon. He knew what flight I was on and what time, he bought the damn ticket.

“Are you traveling alone?” the desk agent asked me, noticing my wandering eye. “Or waiting for someone else?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m alone.”

She must have caught the sorrow in my voice because she gave me a soft smile. “I like flying alone. It’s one of the few times where you have to pay attention to yourself.”

I nearly sobbed at that. I gave her a tight smile, my eyes welling up. I thanked her, got my tickets, and took off for the security checkpoint.

I wanted to stall on my way through there, knowing that Mateo couldn’t go through without a ticket. I wanted him to catch up with me and take me in his arms and tell me he loved me and that everything was going to be okay. I wanted him to be my home again.

I wanted him in every way I could.

But he never came.

After security, I headed to my gate, still harboring the tiniest seed of hope that he would still somehow come through. Maybe he was on my plane, as ridiculous of a notion as that was.

I was such a dreamer. A romantic deep down inside. After everything I pushed away, I still believed in that great big love, the one that you would create stars and galaxies and universes for.

When the plane boarded, I got to my seat—window, my favorite—buckled up my seatbelt and curled up into a ball, leaning against the window and trying to shield my eyes from the passengers who were still getting on. I felt the people sit down beside me but I didn’t dare look at them. I didn’t dare make a sound. I just let the tears stream down my face as I stared at my last view of Spain. I sobbed silently during take-off. I tried to compose myself as we hit cruising altitude. This was a private moment for me. This was me saying goodbye to Spain.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine all my best memories, Mateo’s wonderful face, his hands on my body, the feel of being in his arms, Claudia’s smile, the late nights, the sunshine, the feel of the air, the taste of the wine. If I tried hard enough, I could even smell Mateo’s cologne, ocean fresh. It brought me the smallest bit of comfort.

I had to be okay.

As the country of Spain became a distant land below me, as the clouds formed over Portugal, as the continent of Europe carved out its name into the Atlantic, I had to be okay.

I took in a deep breath and looked deep inside me for an answer.

There was only me.

And I knew I was strong. I was resilient. And I wasn’t as bad as people had told me.

I was Vera Miles.

And I might have been the villain of my own story.

But I was the hero, too.

I was going to be okay.

Chapter Thirty-Two

I exhaled and adjusted myself in my seat, trying not to elbow my seatmate, which was impossible. I totally knocked them off the armrest.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, still trying to keep my shitty red nose and puffy eyes hidden from view.

“I’m sorry, too.”

The blood in me stilled.

The voice.

That voice.

No.

No, it fucking could not be.

I very slowly turned my head toward the passenger sitting beside me, looking at them for the first time.

Mateo was right there, staring at me, his quiet smile and soft eyes just inches away.

My breath hitched in shock. I was dead, wasn’t I? The plane crashed on take-off and I was dead! Or sleeping. I was sleeping.

I slowly tore my eyes off of him and looked around at the other passengers on the plane, wondering if they were dead too or asleep or strange, or if something was out of the ordinary, some sort of sign that I was dreaming or God was playing the world’s cruelest practical joke.

“I was hoping to get your attention earlier,” he said with a shrug. “But you never looked this way once. I can see why, your little red nose.”

I continued to stare at him like a deer in the headlights. I started shaking my head in disbelief. “No. No, h-how can you be here?”

“Is it bad that I’m here?”

I shook my head again, licking my lips, trying to find words where there were none. Everything around me throbbed as if in slow motion. My mind was officially blown and the rest of me was struggling to catch up.

Mateo.

Here.

Next to me.

Flying to Vancouver with me.

“I told your mother that I wanted you to be with your family and people who loved you,” he said simply. “Whether you believe it or want it, Vera, you are my family. You are my universe. And I love you more than anything.”

“That is so sweet,” the woman next to him gushed, obviously eavesdropping. Actually, I was sure the whole plane was probably listening to this.

I blinked at him, wishing we had privacy. But really, that didn’t matter. Everything I wished for was here.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, placing his hand on mine. Warmth flooded through me, a shiver ran down my back.

How could this be real? How could this be happening?

“What for?” I breathed out.

“For not being sensitive enough during everything, for thinking you could handle all of that when I should have never asked you to handle it. You are strong, Vera, very strong, but I was so wrapped up in my own burdens, of what I had to carry, that I thought yours weren’t as hard. But they were. There were many, many things that I did wrong.” He raised my hand up to his and kissed it. “Will you forgive me?”

I still couldn’t believe it. “Of course,” I whispered, my emotions all fighting each other. What did this mean? “There is nothing to forgive, Mateo. You did what you had to do.”

“I know,” he said. “I just wished it could have been different. I forget that you are only twenty-three years old, Vera. You have shouldered so much and you are only twenty-three. Women your age shouldn’t have to deal with these situations. I am in awe of you, do you know that?”

I swallowed hard, unable to ignore the gnawing feeling of doubt in my chest. “And…how are things? With you. And them?”

He smiled and his eyes lit up. “I was granted joint custody,” he said.

I broke out into a wide grin. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Yes. I am serious. After you left me, I went and visited Isabel most days.” My face fell but he shot me a reassuring smile. “Do not worry, it wasn’t like that. It was just to talk to her. I very slowly got her to understand. I owned up to everything so there were no secrets. I explained how serious I was about you, what you meant to me, the kind of wonderful and good person that you were. I told her how badly I didn’t want Chloe Ann to grow up without a father. With a lot of patience, I finally got her to sign it over.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

He turned his hand from side to side. “Mas o menos. More or less. I promised her a big settlement in exchange for any humiliation she had to suffer.”

I raised my eyebrows. Figures it would come down to money.

“But,” he added, “it is worth it. I took the time to take care of everything while you were gone. The divorce is almost final. And my daughter can never be taken away from me.”

I felt like the sun was bursting inside my heart, flooding me with utter relief. I felt like I could finally, finally breathe again.

Mateo would never lose Chloe Ann.

All my worries turned to dust, blown away.

“So what are you doing on the plane with me?” I asked when I composed myself.

“I’m taking you back home,” he said. He noted the puzzled look on my face. “Madrid is your home. I am your home. We’ll go to Vancouver and I’ll meet your family. It is only fair, yes? And then I’m taking you right back to Spain.”

“And if I say no?”

His smile faltered, his eyes creasing sadly. “Then I will have tried my best. I bought you this plane ticket because I knew that a nine hour flight was the only way I’d be able to have your attention, where you wouldn’t be able to run, to leave. I figured I would spend the entire flight trying to win you back. Trying to make you love me again.”

My heart swelled, my lower lip trembling. “I never stopped loving you,” I said quietly.

He reached out and stroked my face, running his fingertips over my cheekbones. “I couldn’t quite be sure. Sometimes, when love makes you mad, you wonder if it makes other people mad too.”

I nodded. “It does.” I sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry that I gave up on us. I just tried to do the right thing.”

“That is okay, Vera. I love you enough to make up for it. I would never let you go without a fight.”

I shot him a quick look. “You didn’t know I was at Claudia’s for some time. I could have left the country.”

“You are impulsive,” he noted, “but I figured it would take you a while to make arrangements. And even if you had left, I know your address in Vancouver. I would have found you. You burn too brightly to be missed.”

I closed my eyes at that and smiled, a happy tear streaking down my cheek. I was finally letting myself believe it, believe that we were together and had a chance.

“So,” I said carefully. “You still want me?”

He laughed lightly. “Oh, my Estrella.”

He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me, hard at first, then soft as our lips and tongues melded together, feeling like honey, tasting like gold. I felt him all the way to my toes, making my skin and body come alive.

The woman next to Mateo let out a happy sigh, apparently still watching us.

Mateo and I slowly broke apart, our noses pressed against each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I gripped his hair, holding on tight, afraid to let go. He was here, he was here, he was here.

And he was mine.

“You still want me?” he whispered, the utter vulnerability of his words sinking into me like silk.

“Si,” I said adamantly. “Always and infinity.”

He grinned and pushed up the armrest between us, unbuckling my seatbelt and pulling me to him. He put his arm around me and held on tight, his warm breath at my ear, his heartbeat steady against my back. He held me as the world outside the window turned to night and the starshine filled the endless sky.

We flew together like the stars.

Epilogue – Whistler

Five Months Later

“Come on, Vera, you can do better than that!” Josh yelled at me.

“Fuck you!’ I yelled back. I couldn’t even look up to see his face because the moment that I did was the moment I was going to break my neck and legs. I was currently going down Whistler Mountain on a run that was way more challenging than it should have been. While I was a skier in my youth, I’d totally forgotten how to do it. As a result, I’d gone down most of the mountain in a snow-plow position. Several times the tips of my skis started to cross and I freaked out and launched myself into the snow.

In short, it was hell, and I didn’t appreciate my brother yelling at me. He was on a snowboard and was actually really good at it. He drove me crazy zooming down the hill and yelling at me to keep up.

Now I was pretty much near the end and I could see the sprawl of Whistler Village at the bottom of the hill. Most importantly, I could see the large patio where skiers and snowboarders were having their après run beers under the heaters, languishing in the high altitude sunlight.

Beer was my biggest motivator.

Somehow I made it to the bottom and immediately snapped off my skis and then brushed off my ski pants that were caked with snow.

“You did awesome,” Josh said, sliding next to me like a show-off, powder flying everywhere.

“Shut up,” I told him. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not!” he said, lifting his goggles on top of his head. “I mean it.”

“Whatever.” I bent down and awkwardly scooped up my skis. “Get a beer in me and get it in me now.”

“I wonder if they’ve gotten a table already,” Josh mused.

We made our way through the throngs of people walking awkwardly in ski boots, just as I was, and stacked up our skis and board along the rack.

“I see Claudia!” Josh said.

I went and joined him and saw her at a table by the wall, waving at us and looking adorable in her little snowboarding outfit. I probably should have started snowboarding instead of skiing, but how was I to know I’d be so damn terrible at something I used to be good at?

“How was it?” she asked us as we snaked our way towards her.

“Great,” Josh said.

“Crap,” I said. “I nearly broke my legs a million times.”

“Well,” Claudia said, lifting up her beer. “All those shots at the bar last night probably didn’t help, did it?”

I dismissed her logic and sat down. “Why are you back so soon? I thought all you professional people were going to spend all day on the slopes on all them fancy black diamond runs.”

She shrugged. “All the shots last night didn’t help me. Ricardo looked worse than I did, so I’m surprised he’s still out there. His loss. I will drink all the beer.”

“No, we will drink all the beer,” Josh said, signaling for the waiter who quickly came over. We ordered a round of beers for us and for our missing ski bunnies.

Josh leaned back and put his face to the sun. “Oh man, I don’t want to go back to work. Can we just live here?”

“Well, I don’t want to go back to work either,” I said. “It’s all grey and shit outside and dark, and things are so boring during the off season.”

“At least your job is kind of fun,” Josh pointed out. “And at least you live in a foreign country. Doing paperwork for Las Palaminos or wherever you work sounds a lot better when you’re doing it in fucking Spain.”

“Speaking of Spain,” Claudia said, looking over my shoulder. “Look who made it back alive.”

I twisted in my seat to see Mateo putting his skis away. He gave us a wave when he spotted us and I grinned in response. He looked fucking sexy in his ski gear, I had to say. I should have figured that Mateo was also an excellent skier. The man who could do fucking everything.

When I started getting my first bout of homesickness around Christmastime, I’d brought up the fact that Claudia and Ricardo had wanted to go to Whistler. Of course, she had said before Mateo had shown up on my plane, resulting in a two-day trip to Vancouver before we returned home to start our new life together. Still, I thought the Whistler trip was something we could all save up for. Besides, I had to return briefly to apply for my work permit. I had been paid under the table for my office services at the Las Palabras office but now I was ready to make it official.

As it was, Claudia and Ricardo were getting kind of blue about the Madrid winter and wanted a change of pace from the usual European ski spots. With Mateo on board and taking care of our hotel and part of our flights, the four of us were able to fly to Whistler and invite Josh along.

Well, actually we invited my mother and Mercy and Charles too, to be nice, but they declined. Oh well, couldn’t say I didn’t try. I wouldn’t stop trying to get close to my mother and sister, but at least I was learning not to take it personally anymore. Sometimes your family was through your blood and sometimes it was through your love.

While the waiter came back and put down the beers, Mateo came over to the table and leaned over me for a lingering kiss. He tasted like snow and fresh air.

“How is your knee?” I asked. “Can it handle skiing?”

“It is holding up.” He lifted his aviator shades and peered down at me. “I saw you, you were doing very well.”

I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Oh, now you’re yanking my chain too?”

“What is this chain you keep speaking of and why is anyone yanking it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Claudia said, completely earnest. “Seriously, whose chain is this? A dog chain?”

Mateo made a small barking sound and laughed.

I slapped him on the arm. “Sit down, you dog. It’s an expression.”

Claudia made a tsking sound. “These damn English expressions. The moment you think you have the language under control, more letters explode.”

“I do know one expression though,” Mateo said, sitting down next to me and resting his hand on my knee. “We shall get buzzed like a bee.”

We all raised our glasses and clinked them together.

“To getting buzzed like a bee,” I said, smiling broadly at my crew, feeling warmth from the sun and warmth from my friends.

“Here, here,” they said in unison.

We drank and we laughed. Ricardo soon joined us and we drank and laughed some more, until the sun went down and the stars came up.

The End

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Keep reading to read the prologue of my upcoming dark romantic suspense book, Dirty Angels.