Chapter 38
chapter thirty eight
traffic: mending relationships everywhere
The road was quiet. Just the hum of the tyres on the asphalt and the low murmur of the wind slipping past the windows. Lana sat beside me in the passenger seat, curled slightly towards me, her gaze distant.
We hadn’t really spoken since we left Cora’s for the airport. Had barely spoken the entire forty-eight hours she’d been in New York. But that was all me, and we both knew it.
When we left the house, she’d hugged her goodbye like they’d known each other for years instead of hours, and Cora had clung to her like someone who knew what it felt like to be held up when everything inside was crumbling.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
“You’re still doing that,” Lana said softly, and I knew she was looking at me.
I gripped tighter. “Doing what?”
“That.” She blew a laugh through her nose—the way she did when I used to splatter paint everywhere. “When you have too many things on your mind, whatever you’re holding, you hold it tighter.”
I huffed a breath and loosened my grip. “I’ve never done that.”
“Liar.” She jested, eyes still on me. Mine were still on the road. “You did it when you painted.” She let a giggle slip, soft and delicate and familiar. “You would squeeze the brush so tight that I thought it might snap—”
“If I wanted to walk down memory lane, I would have called you sooner.”
The car was void of noise then, my voice killing every bit of it.
The soft warmth of her stare still burned the side of my face, and after a mile of quiet, she broke it.
“Why do you pretend like I don’t exist?” She turned fully to face me then.
“And before you say it’s because you’re busy, or the days get away from you, you should know that Oscar has been to Marcus and Anna’s birthday parties for the past four years. ”
That had me looking at her—enough so that I saw hers soften as they locked, like that was all she’d wanted. For me to see her.
I swallowed. “Marcus?”
The car slowed as we hit traffic, but honestly, I’d never been more thankful for it. I kept my eyes on Lana, watching her as her head tilted, curls falling, and that quiet, knowing look masked her face. “My son.”
I couldn’t breathe. “You… you named him after…”
She nodded, smiling. “You? Yeah.” Her head fell back against the headrest, eyes still on me. “You know why?”
Emotion lodged in my throat, and I shook my head. Words weren’t a thing for me right now.
Her smile pulled tight. “Because you saved my life that day, Marcus. If it weren’t for you, then...” Her silence painted an image I never wanted in my head again. She cleared her throat. “Then I wouldn’t have met Tom. Or heard Anna’s laugh. Or got to name my son after the man who saved my life.”
My head shook. “I didn’t do a thing. Oscar called the ambulance.”
“Because you went and got him.”
I blinked, my eyes stinging.
“You went and got him, and that was the reason the ambulance got there before I bled out. It was the reason one of the crew spotted Javi in the tree behind the house and arrested him. It’s the reason I got to the hospital in time to meet Tom, for him to fall in love with me.”
Lana leaned forward, her hand reaching over and covering mine on the wheel. My grip was getting looser by the second. “The only thing you’re responsible for is changing my life for the better. So why do you pretend I don’t exist?”
I kept my face still. “I should ask you the same question.” I thought hers would drop, or twitch, but it didn’t. Like she knew this was coming. I gritted my teeth. “Why did you disappear after it happened?”
She stole a quick breath, then sighed. “Because at the time I thought it was the only way I was going to get better.” Her shoulders rolled. “It was hard to be home, to be around Mamà and you guys and have to see the spot on the floor where it happened every single day.”
Lana sniffled, but there were no tears. I wondered if she’d cried them all out already.
“I needed to be invisible to feel normal again.”
“And I needed you to make the world normal again.” I swallowed, not taking my eyes off the way hers downturned for a second.
“You were my everything, Lana. And I thought you leaving was my fault. I thought you were mad that I didn’t do better.
I thought I’d torn apart everything all because I couldn’t save you. ”
Her hand, the one still over mine, squeezed gently. “Did you really think that? Or were you telling yourself that because it was you thinking those things?”
The sting in my eyes was like a thousand tiny paper cuts slicing through me, and it wasn’t long before I felt something warm slide down my cheek. “I don’t know.”
Her lip pouted forward, like she was holding back the floodgates, and she moved closer, both hands over mine, our heads close. “Leaving was for me, Marcus. It was never you. It was never your fault, you hear me, nino dulce?”
I shook my head. My cheeks getting warmer. Wetter.
My voice was low when it finally came. “I should’ve said something. I should’ve done something.”
“You couldn’t,” she said simply. “You were fourteen. You were traumatised too. You shut down, Marcus. Your brain did what it had to do to protect you, and somehow you still managed to save me.”
I looked at the road ahead, blinking hard.
“But I failed you,” I said. “I failed everyone. I let him do what he did. I said nothing for months. When it mattered most, I couldn’t get a word out. I couldn't save her.”
I let my head sink back against the headrest, pressing my palms into my sodden eyes, like that would take the hurt away.
I felt Lana soften beside me, her hand cupping my jaw. “You’re not talking about me anymore, are you?”
My hands slipped from my face, my stare on my lap. I shook my head. I couldn’t even say it.
Remember what I said about labels? Well, Lana was my only exception to that. Big sisters were our guardian angels. And I believed that Lana was mine and had been in every lifetime. She saw right through me in a way only she could. She knew me better than I knew myself some days.
And I suppose, like me, I wouldn’t be here without her either.
“I took her on because she was the only other time I’d failed.” My eyes were on her. “Because I’d let things happen, and now I was responsible for another girl’s downfall.”
Lana blinked at me, like she was made for this job. “Two things.” She counted with her hands. “One, what happened to me and Cora was not our downfall; it could have been, but we both fought back. So don’t even waste your time thinking about that.”
I nodded, because she made things so clear. How could she make things so clear?
She smiled as I looked at her. “And two… You know that she thinks the world of you, right?”
I didn’t move.
Lana nodded. “She does. In fact, I think she likes you. I’m sure I got those vibes anyway.” Her smile peaked. “Whenever she said your name, she’d do this thing like you were all she could picture, and the corners of her mouth twitched a little.”
Something warmed in my chest.
“She looked a little like you do right now, actually.”
I brought my eyes into focus, back to her. “Me?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my… do you like her? Like like her?”
I shrugged, like it was nothing, when in reality there was a whole firework display taking place in my heart.
The truth was that I’d liked her for a long time.
Like, before London. I’d pushed it down.
And away. But it was always there. Sitting right behind my heart.
She was impossible not to fall for, I knew that now, but she did it in a way that I didn’t even realise I liked her until I was unconsciously smiling as she spoke, hanging onto that accent like a fucking loser that would do anything to have it be the sound that woke him up in the mornings.
I liked her, liked her.
Actually. No. Fuck that.
I loved her.
Head over heels in love with that girl.
“Wait, never mind.” Lana’s voice tugged me back into reality. “Your face just answered for you.”
The fireworks were on their big finale and… what… was I… blushing?
“You’re blushing,” Lana confirmed for me. Then her hand tapped the back of my hand. “Marcus, you’ve got to tell her.”
Right as the last explosion was set to go off, something jammed. Wires tripped. No-one pressed the big fucking red button and the sky was empty.
“No.” My voice had sunk. “I… uh… I can’t do that, Lana.” The fog faded. “Not yet, anyway. She’s doing well, and I don’t want anything to mess that up for her.” Only a few stars appeared, but it was nothing special. “I don’t want to throw her off.”
For a moment her face was masked with sadness. Or maybe it was pride. It was both combined, actually, the longer I looked. Her eyes held mine like a hug, that finite grip that could never separate us, regardless of what life threw our way.
Her head tilted to the side, her hair falling down her face as those soft eyes clung to mine. “What did Mamà used to say?”
Si no llueve, no hay flores.
No rain, no flowers.
I huffed a laugh, and simply rolled up my sleeves, revealing the words inked on my wrist.
Her eyes smiled with her as she saw it.
So did mine when she tugged her shirt to the side.
I eyed the ink that sat on her collarbone, nodding my chin at it, my smirk in full force. “Little reckless, don’t you think?”
Her smile spread wide as her head tilted. “Coming from the man with eight thousand of them.”
“Eight thousand and one.”
Angel wing. Middle finger.
Easy to hide. Easy to pass it off as something other than that I was falling for her and I needed to express it before I choked on it. Decided on it when she fell asleep, the night I found her sobbing on the landing.
Lana shrugged. “Must be genetic.”
I smiled at her, and then it hit me—really hit me—that I was smiling at my sister.
My sister, who I’d avoided for years because I thought she blamed me. Because I thought I’d failed her.
But I hadn’t. Not to her, anyway. I’d been tearing myself apart for nothing, too blind to see the truth. And in the meantime, I’d missed the life she built for herself. Missed her.
“What are they like?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
She knew exactly who I meant. “Anna’s Mamà’s double. But she’s got Tom’s sense of humour. Just started preschool.”
I smiled again, but this time it ached. God, for the first time in my life, I prayed for standstill traffic.
She kept going, her gaze drifting somewhere soft. “Tom is… everything. He’s sweet. He cooks. He knows me better than anyone. He stood by me as I put myself back together and never once rushed me.” She lifted her hand, the ring glinting. “And he’s got great taste.”
“Congratulations,” I managed, my throat thick. “Did you… did you get a honeymoon?”
She shook her head. “We had Anna. And a mortgage.”
“I’ll take care of it.” My eyes didn’t move from hers. “A belated wedding gift. Anywhere you want.”
She squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” I tried to smile, though my chest felt like it was caving in. “I’ll even look after Anna, and… Marcus.”
The name stopped me cold.
Marcus.
She named her son after me.
The air seemed to shift. That single thought was enough to crush the weight I’d been carrying for years, enough to swear I’d never let myself fall back into that dark place where I believed I’d ruined her.
I swallowed hard. “What’s he like?”
Her dimples deepened as she spoke. “He’s strong, and kind, and so beautifully quiet, like he’s always taking the world in.” Her hands had been holding mine so long I’d forgotten where she ended and I began. She smiled, her voice softening to something that gutted me.
“And he’s brave. Just like his namesake.”
I didn’t see it until that moment—my name living on in a child I’d never met. It hit me like a fist to the chest: I wasn’t the ruin I’d convinced myself I was. In her eyes, I was more.
I was someone worth carrying forward.