She kissed him on the cheek. “I still care. This is the reason I fell in love with you.”
He winked. “I thought it was because of my dimples. And my magic tongue.”
She dramatically shook her head. “You’re cocky for sure. But Jaime. I mean it. You’re a good man.”
“Thank you, Alma. I won’t let you down.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“Well, I don’t have the ring on me. Nor have I asked your father.”
She punched him in the arm. “You’re such a smart-ass. I’m not expecting a proposal. Plus, I would definitely not say yes.” Yet.
“I’m just playing. But I do want to ask you a question.”
“And what is that?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Yes, yes I will.”
As they stood beneath the moonlit sky, Alma realized that forgiveness wasn’t about erasing the pain, but about choosing to move forward despite it. The path ahead was uncertain, but she was willing to take that journey with Jaime, one step at a time.
Epilogue
Almaraced through the door of Mezcalifornia, carrying a big box.
Jaime rushed over to her to take it out of her hands. “Let me grab that.”
She shook her head. “Not a chance.” She pulled a switchblade from the key chain in her back pocket and sliced open the box.
In the cardboard case were twelve bottles of one of the world’s finest tequilas. Mezcalifornia’s small batch of añejo.
On the top of the box was the promotional package, complete with a cheesy picture of Jaime mugging for the camera with an impish grin on his face.
Damn. He was such a tool.
But at least this time his modeling was for his own brand of tequila. A Mexican-American-owned brand, not one making some non-Hispanic celebrity rich.
And even better, he had done this full thing without the help ofhis family. He had believed in himself. But there was one person he couldn’t have done any of this without.
Alma.
His girlfriend.
Their relationship had aged as long as this añejo. After he had committed to her without hesitation, his first order of business was to enroll in some intensive therapy. He hated it, at first. Hell, what was he saying? He still hated it. It was excruciating. All the talk about his past, his family, all his fuckups, how he had hurt people in his life…
But somewhere along the way, he realized that he’d needed to do this work. He could never heal from his childhood trauma, and he would never have a successful relationship without spending the time healing himself.
He then spent a month alone at a Spanish-language school in Cuernavaca, Mexico. He lived with a host family and forced himself to immerse in the language. His Spanish was still not great, but he was committed to working on his fluency every day.
The best thing was, he wasn’t even doing this for Alma—he was doing this for himself.
They had done a few months of long-distance, which completely sucked, and then Jaime finally moved to Marin. Alma wasn’t ready to move in with him yet. She loved her space, and he was fine with that, so he moved in with Santi, who welcomed the company.
And living in Bolinas, Jaime could still pursue one of his other loves: surfing. Though the water was cold as fuck in Marin and he always had to wear a wet suit. He missed San Diego’s warmer weather but escaped to Mexico or Hawai’i to catch some waves whenever he could.
