AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Whatever,” I huffed. I couldn't help but smile at her as she walked back to her desk, her fingers tucking that loose strand of hair into her bun.
“Valen?” I muttered as I stood, gathering my things into my purse. I walked outside my office, and she was sprawled on her desk, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. It was one of her most annoying habits, but I shrugged it off because she did a good job. “Ready?”
She looked up at me. “Yep,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I stepped out of the office and squinted at the bright sunlight, adjusting to the change in lighting. It was hot and humid, the kind of weather that made everything feel sticky all over. I squared my shoulders and started walking towards my parents’ home a few blocks awayfrom my office.
I was supposed to only stay with my parents for a few months after I moved back and then move into Santiago’s newly purchased home, until he decided to move back from the city and settle in our town. He had been smart about the whole house thing and prepared for when he would eventually move back, taking a role at our family’s law firm. And I would “house-sit” until the time came. But Victoria—his now fiancée—suddenly showing up in Tres Fuegos put a wrench in his plans, and mine. So I was stuck with them. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ideal. Nothing in my life really was—nothing was as I planned, but it still worked out. I had a job, a stable career, and a place to live. What else would I want?
The streets were busy with people resuming their activities after stopping everything for the sacredsiesta.That was the issue with small towns—things never changed. And this was one thing that hadn’t changed at all in decades, even as the population got younger. It was a weird phenomenon, how we all ended up back at home despite moving away for college to the big city and getting to experience that for a few years.
I turned the corner onto my parents’ street, and I saw people moving from that far out. Their house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, the yard extending hundreds of meters and ending where the hillside started. My hometown was certainly something out of a movie, the rolling hills changing colors with the seasons. But this season was by far my favorite, not only because of what was going on, butbecause it just felt… different. Magical. Not in the literal sense, but in the more whimsical way.
My brother’s wedding was going to be an intimate affair in the backyard of our parents’ home, with close family members and some friends in attendance. This meant upwards of one hundred people because our close family members were too many to count. And Victoria had gone all out, with the festivities extending for about a week and different things to do around town in the lead-up to the actual wedding.
“Ma?” I yelled as soon as I stepped into the foyer, closing the door behind me with a loud bang and dropping my things on the floor. “¿Dónde están?”
I could hear noises coming from the kitchen, where they were setting up for food. The welcome dinner was tonight, intended for a few out-of-town guests to mingle with the bride and groom and their families.
“¿Mamá?” I called again. There was a lot of movement around the house, and I could hear sounds coming from every corner. Our mom had had the interior of the house repainted a few months ago, the moment Victoria even hinted at having the wedding here. She loved her future daughter-in-law—and she made my brother so happy that it was inevitable to bend over backwards for her. “Are you upstairs?”
I headed up the stairs, straight into my bedroom. The room was filled with nostalgia and a sense of familiarity,and it looked almost identical to the day I’d left for medical school. The walls were painted in a soothing shade of pale blue, complemented by white furniture and delicate lace curtains that fluttered gently in the summer breeze. The only thing that had changed was the bed—swapped kindly by my mother for a bigger size when I moved back home. The last rays of sun filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on the room. And the smell of jasmine that I loved so much—but was bittersweet during this time of year—wafted in, reminding me of other times.
I sank onto the bed, the comfort enveloping me like a warm embrace, but exhaustion finally hit me hard. The end of the year was rough on my body. Parents came into the office to bring their kids like it was the end of the world. Friends wanted to have dinner and nights out, as if the first day of the new year were a future that was so unknown thatwe better see each other!just in case. It was chaotic, normally. And this year, a little bit more so because of the wedding. But that didn’t matter because we were all very happy for them anyway, and no one could be bitter about it.
Least of all me, the blonde, upbeat girl who knew all the town’s secrets. I almost felt like I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. Maybe even growl in frustration—who knew. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was an underlying sense of annoyance at myself. Perhaps it was because as the years went by, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being stuck. Despite the exciting things happening to everyone aroundme, I was just not there, instead stuck in a cycle of grief and routine. I was annoyed at that because I was starting to feel that I couldn’t keep myself afloat amidst this storm that was brewing. And I was drowning.
2
LUCÍA
Just as Iwas about to fall asleep, a knock on the door startled me. "Come in," I called out, my voice carrying a touch of weariness. I had been looking forward to the wedding for months, but I was exhausted, and I needed to stop or otherwise I would burn out. It had happened once before.
“Lucía,” my father, Carlos, said. He walked into the room, carrying my purse in his hands and moving slowly to the far end, then depositing the heavy bag on the corner chair. His tone was stern, reminding me of when we were teenagers and he would walk into the house after work and trip over all our things. “You need to remember to bring your things to your room.”
I nodded tightly at him instead of screaming. I was an adult, but this man kept treating me like a child in his house.I understood where he was coming from, but not even my youngest brother was receiving this treatment.
“Did you wash your hands?”
I closed my eyes and took a big breath. “I’m headed to the shower now,” I said quickly, hoping he would get off my back with the childish concerns. Like I didn’t wash my hands multiple times a day, sometimes more than ten times an hour when we were busy. I stood from the bed and moved towards the bathroom.
“Did you see the driveway?” he questioned while motioning to the bedroom window that overlooked the front of the house. “Mom planted all new jasmine bushes so that guests associate the smell of the flowers with the wedding.” It was true, the smell was strong, and it seemed to cover every single molecule of air both inside and outside the house. And that was what made this season so special in this small town—the smell, the storms, the light, and the darkness. All combined into infinite moments of peace. “Don’t look at me that way.”
“What way?” I feigned innocence. I stopped by the closet door on my way to the bathroom. “I mean, the smell is good. It’s a great idea.” I grabbed the hanger from the top of the door and pulled the short emerald-green dress out, draping it on the edge of the bed. I needed a shower to wash the day away before heading down to dinner because it had been long and hot.
“Did you see Santiago yet?”
“Not yet,” I said curtly.
“Okay then.” He knocked on the closet door. “I'll leave you to it.”
He closed the door behind him with a small click, and I could hear his steps receding in the direction of Santiago’s childhood bedroom, where Santiago and Victoria were probably getting ready. The noises from downstairs started getting louder and louder, signaling the arrival of the guests. The house was transformed—it was already a large home, happily worn after years of use and abuse by our many cousins and friends. Our home had always been the hangout spot. For all of us siblings, our friends had gathered here consistently. When we were in our teens, the house was a revolving door of hormones, and my parents welcomed it.
There was a loud knock on the front door, followed by the sound of the doorbell, which got me moving straight to the bathroom for that overdue shower.
I made my way to the back of the house, where the tent for the actual wedding was already set up. For the welcome event, Victoria had organized a cocktail reception with a more casual feel, so we were all mingling around in the yard. She had set a few lounge areas around small tables for the older people, but no one was sitting yet. There was a lot of movement for this early into the night; mostly finger foods and cocktails were being passedaround by an army of teenagers—local students who were probably working a catering job for the summer to make a fewpesos.
“Ey.” I heard a whisper right behind me.
