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“The artist,” he corrects me. “Always drawing on his homework and even paper napkins. He always lived inside himself, lost in his thoughts his whole life. I knew he would struggle to find his place in this world. My boy was lost for so many years, wandering without a compass. Now he’s at ease after finding his place, his own way to live. He’s himself because he found love, Melanie. He found you.”
Ignacio’s statement brings tears to my eyes. I try to focus on his dark gaze, but mine is too cloudy. I’m happy for David. I really am. However, I’m not sure it’s the kind of love his father is saying he’s found. Sure, he cares for me. David adores his son, but that doesn’t mean his heart is ready to give me what I want. I don’t want to be loved half-way through. I want a man who devotes his life to me and allows me to do the same with him. I don’t want to live. I want to thrive.
Because I deserve it.
“Ignacio, I….” I stammer while looking for the right thing to say. “I don’t know if David is ready….”
The man smiles and then says: “Look at him and tell me you don’t love him.”
I can’t. I just can’t. Ignacio is old enough to know it, and he’s not playing fair.
“He loves you, Melanie,” he assures me. “I know my son. He wouldn’t bring you home otherwise.”
“He wanted to bring Davi here to meet his family.” The sentence comes out of my patched throat.
“Then why are you here?” He asks, lifting his eyebrows. “David can take care of my grandson. Don’t fool yourself, Melanie. Open your eyes and embrace happiness. It’s just in front of you.”
He pats my arm softly and stands to wander around the place where the boys still sing about flying the moon and reaching the stars.
Ignacio doesn’t understand. There is so much to consider. David lives in LA. I have a life in Warmer Springs, Davi is very close to my family, and I’d like to keep it that way…
Oh, life, why don’t you come with a manual?
“Hey, baby,” David whispers while leaning over me. One arm at the back of the couch, his smiling face just hovering inches away from mine. “Why the long face? Are you hungry? The food is almost done. If you want, I can make….”
Oh fuck. Why is he so charming?
“I’m fine,” I manage to say.
His smile turns into a frown, those dark eyes looking into mine for answers. “I’ve been around women enough to know when one says she’s fine, it means anything but fine.”
Placing a hand over his stubbled jaw, I reply: “Don’t worry. I’m just tired.”
“If you want to go upstairs and nap for a while, I’ll watch Davi.”
Davi… that boy doesn’t need to be watched. He’s having the time of his life with his little cousins and Ignacio.
In the morning he went with hisweloand Emilia Maria for a long walk. They came back with mud-stained clothes and a bag full of mangoes, telling stories about the dinosaurs they chased out of the land to protect us. Emi, as everyone calls her around here, is a bossy chatterbox. The little girl speaks fluent Spanish as well English and has Cardan, her father, wrapped around her pinky. My son is trying to absorb everything as fast as he can. I don’t doubt for a second that if he stays around here, Davi will be bilingual in no time.
“I want to be with you.” My statement is meant to be light and playful but comes out as a desperate plea. David immediately drops himself beside me, his arm around my shoulders, holding me close.
I love this. I love him. My words said nothing but the truth. I want to be with him, not just now. I want this to last forever.
As if he were sensing my emotional state, David hugs me tighter and kisses my temple repeatedly. We are in our own bubble until Gabriel calls him aloud.
“Hey, you, love birds,” he says. “Save that for later. We are playing soccer after lunch.”
David smiles. “I’m ready to kick your ass.”
“You wish!” Gabriel jokes.
“This will be a nightmare,” Ruben shouts, whining theatrically. “Martin will team up with Gabriel, and I’ll have to deal with David. We’re gonna lose.”
“Maybe in these past years, I’ve learned a trick or two,” David replies. I love how they always pronounce their names in Spanish. Sounds so different and… Is it too bad that the sexy accent turns me on? Well, not just the accent. The whole lot was made to melt my panties. The dark hair, those eyes, the smile…
“You’d wish,” Martin says, laughing as his three brothers laugh.
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