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“No, we’re coming with you. The way Diego is talking about this house, I think we’re all going to move in.”
I roll my eyes as Papá laughs at his words. Diego is furiously shaking his head behind him. This house has to go on the market, the courts agreed it needs to be sold. I just hope the nextfamily that live here love it as much as I did growing up here as a child.
Diego offered to buy mi tía a house. He says that it is not worth fighting over money, especially seeing as we’re all family. She already has a house, but for some reason she wants Mamá out of this one. I don’t know why but ever since Abuela died, the two of them stopped talking.
Ever since Belén’s disappeared, I get the feeling that Mamá blames me for it. In a way she lost her mamá and hija at the same time. Either way, I’m not to blame for Abuela’s death nor Belén not being the sister I always craved her to be. That’s always been her choice.
I dismiss the differences between Mamá and I, knowing that soon my baby will be born, and we won’t be living under the same roof.
Diego takes my hand and practically drags me down the stairs while smiling at my family. He’s in a polo shirt and jeans. It’s funny, because before I could never imagine him dressing casually but now he does it all the time.
“You’re hurting me,” I whine as I feel as if he’s walking at the speed of light.
“There’s no way that your family’s moving in with us.”
“It was a joke. Relax!”
“Relax nothing. I wanted to live in La Moraleja. I saw a beautiful house there. I even offered to buy your tía a house. I’ll buy them all houses, as long as they aren’t living with us.”
I smile as Papá rushes up to us. “I can’t wait to see our house.”
Diego nods his head at me, as if to say, ‘are you going to tell him or should I?’
Either way, I don’t want them living with us. Diego and I have a lot of ground to cover, and if it meant Papá living with us, then that’s fine, but Mamá and I—I’m surprised we’ve beenliving together for the last few months without killing each other. Especially with her not working in the bar anymore.
As we arrive at the house in seven minutes—Diego was walking so fast that I thought our baby was going to come out early—I notice that he’s using the keys to enter. He turns the locks and then I’m in the hallway of what feels like a mansion.
“The house has five bedrooms, and three bathrooms,” Diego says.
“Oh, plenty of room for us,” Papá says before leaving our side and he starts to wander around.
Once again, Diego is shaking his head, and tilting to the side. No doubt he’s warning me that if I even think about them moving in, then not only will they not be living here, but we won’t either.
I step through the front door of the newly built five-bedroom, three-bathroom house. The sun streams through the sheer curtains and bathes the space in a warm glow.
The floors beneath my feet are a rich, honeyed oak, cool to the touch. As I move farther in, I smell the scent of fresh paint. The walls have a neutral color scheme. I run my fingers along the smooth surface, feeling the promise of countless nights filled with laughter and whispered confessions.
The living room is spacious and flooded with natural light. Plush, dove-gray sofas invite relaxation, the fabric promising comfort after a long day of exploring the cobblestone streets of this charming town. The fireplace makes me think of cozy nights wrapped in blankets with my new family.
In the kitchen, stainless-steel appliances gleam against sleek countertops. The scent of fresh coffee lingers, I run my hand over the marble island and it’s as if I am seeing the lives we will have here, not only Diego and I, but my cousins too.
I imagine them coming over for a girls’ night and us drinking and laughing while Cristina whips us up a meal. One to die for.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland, as no more is Diego talking, but I’m exploring upstairs. Each bedroom has the same white walls, and I can imagine us decorating them to our tastes. The master suite has large windows framing a view of the town below. The en-suite bathroom, has contemporary fixtures and promises indulgent bubble baths and stolen kisses under the soft glow of recessed lighting.
I climb back down the stairs and then Diego tugs at my hand, hugging me.
“So, what do you think?”
“Of our house? You bought it, right?”
He’s smiling at me, not answering my question, confirming what I had already suspected. He’s like an excited little boy. I don’t have to tell him anything, it’s clear this house is perfect.
“And what do you think?”
“You did good, Diego, we love it!” Papá says to him.
Then, I break away from his hug, because I have a suspicion that Papá’s not going to like what Diego has to say next. They’re not moving in with us. He will buy that three-million-dollar house in La Moraleja for them to live in, that is what he said to me earlier. Even if it has all the state-of-the-art technology in there, it would be lost on them. But he doesn’t care, as long as he’s with me and not them.
