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The smirks on their faces say they did.
“Yes, even though I told them over and over it was impossible that you were on the other side, since I’d just left you, but there was no fucking way to make them listen. They’re like two peas in a pod.”
“We found her, didn’t we?” Adrián points out.
“Yeah, the same way I did; well, not the same since you did it with four hundred euros less in your pockets. Losers. I stayed out here waiting,” he explains. “Pretty soon they came back out.”
“You’re just so smart,” Alex says sarcastically.
“Are we going home?” Adrián asks.
“We’re going home.”
Alex and I interlace our fingers and walk out of the airport.
And into our new life together.
* * *
I wake up the next morning feeling more comfortable than ever. I open my eyes and the beautiful face of Alexander St. Claire is there, relaxed and peaceful. Asleep, after so many hours awake. Last night was an epic night.
I enjoy the view for a while; I’d stay here forever, in this bed, by his side, but I force myself to get up because I want to make him breakfast.
I’m naked, so before I leave the room with Dark on my heels, I put on the T-shirt Alex left on the floor last night when we got to the bedroom, desperate to feel each other again.
I open the front door for Dark and hum a song as I pull out utensils and food from the kitchen drawers and cabinets. It shouldn’t be that hard to turn all this into something edible.
The first thing I did when we got home yesterday—well, the second thing—was email my boss. I explained the situation and my intention not to return to the United States. We reached an agreement: I’ll continue my comic strips from here, on the condition I travel to Boston once a month. And I’m okay with that. At least, for now. And Alex told me that he’ll come with me on every trip. On the first one, I’ll collect my things.
I begin to prepare—or rather try to prepare—breakfast while I think over yesterday’s events: the story Alex and Adrián told me about Carolina’s obsession with my husband (I knew it!); the adventure at the airport until they found me; the talk with my family; the I-love-yous; me and Alex stripping our emotions bare, he apologizing for blaming me for all his misfortunes, and me apologizing for not knowing how to handle things...
* * *
“Pinch me, Alex. Pinch me because I can’t believe we’re here,” I told him, lying on the sofa on top of his body.
“I don’t quite believe it either.”
“I need to tell you everything, in depth, but I don’t know if you want to hear it.”
“I do. I always will, never doubt that.”
“When I told you that day that I wasn’t coming back home, it wasn’t true; I was mad because I didn’t understand why you didn’t want to come with me to have lunch with my parents, but I got over it right away. It was silly.”
“It got out of hand for me, too. I wanted to prepare a surprise for you, and I didn’t know how to manage it.”
“I worried through the whole lunch and before the dessert was served I’d decided to come back. Hugo told me to bring you Mom’s crème caramel and...” I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I just realized my family was already crazy about you at that time. They all knew you loved Mom’s dessert, they’d noticed. They all agreed I should bring it home, the whole thing, just for you.”
Alex flashed a smile like mine and kissed me on the lips.
“Keep going.”
“Adrián lent me his car so I didn’t have to ride the bike with the crème caramel. So I got in and... Ah, no, wait. Right before that, Catalina came up to me and said—and I’m not trying to justify myself with this, I’m just telling you what she told me—she said not to screw things up with you, because there was a queue of women waiting for me to mess up. She told me you were the best catch in town.”
“What fucking awesome timing.”
