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When he meets her, he’ll understand. He’ll love her. He won’t have a choice. She’s special. The bright, shiny goodness that lives inside her is obvious the instant you meet her. And courage is her super power. She feels fear, but never lets it stop her.
My father’s declarations of doom felt damning. And I didn’t have any answers for him. But I’m certain that if I can get her to forgive me, we can handle anything else life throws at us. I’m going to convince her of that. Tonight. I want a chance. I pray she’ll give me one.
I hop out of my car, new purpose lengthening my stride. As I approach my front door, my steps falter.
She’s there. Sitting on my doorstep illuminated by the security light. I can see the highlights in her dark, chocolate colored hair as it spills down her shoulders. Her lips are painted that red I’ve been seeing in my sleep. She’s wearing a pair of tiny white shorts and a black tank top, and she’s got a sweater bunched up in her lap. Her toes flex and arch in her red flip-flops as she watches me approach.
She tips her face up and looks at me. Her eyes are clear, and angry.
Shit.
“Do you want to come in?”
In what I take as a good sign, she accepts my proffered hand. I let her walk ahead of me into the house.
I hit the switch on the panel to the left of the door and the whole house comes to life. So does Lucía. She whirls on me, her hair still moving even after she’s stopped. Her eyes dart around the house, taking it in.
“We need to talk, Reece. It’s long overdue.” Her eyes finally land on me and I can see the anxiety in them. “You look terrible. Did you stop shaving?”
I laugh in disbelief. That’s the last thing I was expecting to hear. After a week of holding my breath, of thinking that we’d gone past the point of no return, her observation, so casual and familiar, makes me inexplicably angry.
I take a step toward her. My eyes narrowing as hers widen in surprise.
“We had an epic confrontation last week. I called you, texted you, emailed, stood outside your house for days.” She looks down.
“You ignored me. I understood why. I decided to give you your space, because you clearly needed it. And no, I haven’t been shaving. I’ve been a little preoccupied,” I snap at her.
She takes a step back at my raised voice, but she looks concerned and says, “Is your dad okay? Is it working?”
“Lucía, am I in the Twilight Zone?” I ask her incredulously.
“What do you mean?” she asks sounding genuinely perplexed.
“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not slightly psychotic,” I say, frustration now mingling with my confusion. I lean in close to her face, so she can see my eyes. “You threw me out of your house last week. You’ve basically gone into hiding to avoid me. And now, suddenly, you’re here saying our talk is overdue and asking what’s wrong. Luc, it’s not my dad that has me stressed the fuck out. It’s you.”
She starts to respond and then seems to think better of it. I can hear her counting to ten under her breath.
Fuck, I’ve missed her. I want to stop talking
and kiss that plump bottom lip of hers.
She sighs and looks down at her hands.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I was avoiding you. I didn’t know what to say. We both dropped bombs on each other. Mine was a grenade, yours was nuclear. I had to think. I needed to process . . .” She looks up at me through her lashes, a tear dangling from the tip and I feel her pain deep in my gut. It has been a lot. Almost, too much.
A lot was said the other night. And even though I don’t understand where this change of heart has come from, I’m glad. I’d hoped she would get here eventually. I prayed that her reaction was driven by surprise and hurt, but that she’d see her way to at least talking to me. It happened faster than I expected and apparently without any help from me.
“I told you how I felt before everything went crazy. My feelings are unchanged.” She’s still looking at her hands. “I understood your reaction the other night. I even welcomed it, felt like I deserved it. Do you feel differently now?”
Her eyes come slowly to mine, she looks unbearably sad.
“Yes. I feel differently. I . . . won’t apologize for my reaction the night you told me. It was like . . . a tsunami of pain and anger overtook me. I couldn’t control it, Reece. Everything hurt so much. All at once.” She wraps her arms around herself like she’s cold. I want to pull her to me and be the one to comfort her.
“But, I’ve had time to think and I talked to my mother.”
My stomach drops. Her mother. I’d forgotten she has other family members I’ll have to face. She’s not looking at me as she speaks, her eyes seem glued to her feet. But, I’m watching her. I can see that she’s struggling to keep her composure. She amazes me.
“The other night was intense. But, Reece, what happened all of those years ago to Julian; I know it wasn’t your fault.” My chest tightens at the mention of his name.
