“Well, you’re probably right. Do you think he took the job you said he was set to leave for?”
Turning on the faucet to rinse the dishes, she said, “I hope so. But I won’t reach out. Not yet anyway.”
“Okay, well, I’ve got to answer a few emails I missed when that client showed up unannounced. Need anything?”
“All good. See you in the morning.”
“Thanks for dinner. Tomorrow night I’ll take you out. And the day after that, I can leave early so we can see some sights.”
“Sounds great, hon. Night.”
“Night,” he called out, heading to his home office.
The next few days flew by. Aria got into a routine with her writing while Santo was at work, and on the days he was able to leave early, they toured around Madrid.
They saw the Royal Palace and Puerta de Alcala, but Aria's favorite was Sorolla Museum. They ate tapas at a gorgeous outdoor cafe, Santo excitedly pointing out the different styles of architecture.
“I love these Baroque-style buildings the best,” he said.
“I can see why. These massive stone walls and arches are stunning. My favorite buildings so far are the churches. The statues and stained glass, wow, it just takes my breath away. They remind me of home.”
“The architecture is similar, but Spanish architecture has more intricate tilework, horseshoe arches and decorative plasterwork.”
Santo looked away from the buildings and saw Aria’s smirk.
“What?” he asked.
“Architecture nerd,” she said with a chuckle.
He rolled his eyes, and they chatted for a few minutes more about the buildings nearby.
Aria sighed and said, “I feel like I’m living for the first time since we lost Nicholas. This trip has opened the world to me. The people, the food, the culture—all of it has brought me to a place where I want to write. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. I’m compelled by the beauty around me. Santo, I think I’ve found my voice.”
“I think you have,” he said lovingly.
When the week was coming to a close, Aria called Natalia and Luna to let them know she wanted to extend her trip a little longer. The announcement came as a surprise to her staff, but they assured her they were able to handle the load.
She and Santo were sipping on limoncello one night when Corinna called.
“Hey, love,” Corinna said when Aria answered.
“Hang on, let me switch it to video so you can talk to Santo, too,” Aria said, making the adjustment.
“So, what’s this text I got about you staying? Do I need to grab a plane and come bring you home?”
“Oh no. Madrid’s not ready for you, Corinna,” Santo groaned.
Aria and Corinna laughed loudly.
“You’re probably right,” she answered. “So, how long are you staying?”
“I’m not sure. The writing is just flowing. I want to see this through. Why? Miss me already?”
“One, yes I do. Two, you stay as long as you need to. And three, I’m thrilled for you.”
“Thanks. I feel so at peace here. This was a great idea.”
“Can’t wait to read it. Well, I’ll let you two get back to your evening. Just wanted to check in.”
