21. CARLOS
CARLOS
B efore dinner, I decide to take a walk to the private beach that is hidden beyond the garden at the back of the property. I need to mentally prepare for dinner with my father tonight. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure it was a wise move bringing Simon along, as he’s a distraction.
As I reach the opening of the beach, a calm washes over me.
The sea whispers secrets only the old rocks remember.
The sun hangs low above the horizon, bleeding gold and tangerine across the surface water.
The beach is shielded by dense planting and stone.
The rocks glow like something holy under the fading sun.
The tide rolls in soft, lazy, like it knows this place belongs to memory more than time.
Here as a child I used to play pretend with the guards who watched me from the palms, that I was king and they were my protectors.
I buried a gun here once, right where the sand curves inward near the old boathouse. I wonder if it's still there.
Kicking off my shoes, my toes sink into the warm grains as I inhale the smell of sea salt and flowers. I’ve changed so much since I was last here. It's so peaceful on this part of the property that I notice straight away when I hear the sound of someone else's presence behind me.
“Still playing pretend like you did as a child, Carlos,” a familiar voice says.
I turn to see someone I’m not expecting.
Pedro. We were friends forever until he left.
He looks the same in some ways, while being different at the same time.
The transition from boy to man. He has the same dark eyes, the same cute lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips like he knows too much.
The difference is, he is so much broader now.
Has rougher edges. He is dressed in white linens, his shirt open at the top, and I don’t miss the bruised knuckles.
“Pedro, I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
“I didn’t think you’d come back here ever again,” he says with a shrug, walking closer. I try to smile but it doesn’t quite reach my mouth.
“Its just a brief visit.”
“Right. That's not what Gabriel thinks. You know he’s waiting for you to give in and come to your senses. To take your place here at his side.”
I scoff, turning back to face the water. The sun is dipping lower now, spilling fire across the water's surface.
“He’ll be waiting for an eternity. Father will never change, he just wants obedience. He wants to control everything in my life.”
“You were different, even then you hated all this.”
“I still do,” I murmur. “But it still calls to me.”
He chuckles, but there's no joy in it. Just tiredness. “Yeah, well at least you had the chance to run.”
“I didn’t run. I escaped.”
Pedro studies me for a moment. “Same thing.”
We stand there, past and present curling around us like smoke.
I remember being sixteen, when we would steal kisses in the shadows behind the house, the rush of sweetness and danger tangled together.
I also remember waking up to find that his father had shipped him off to Sao Paulo.
The man always showed a hatred toward me, and I did wonder back then if he knew of our hook ups and if that was the reason he sent Pedro away.
“Pedro, why are you back here?”
He hesitates. “There’s been some trouble. The Marins. They’re making a move on Gabriel’s holdings in Leblon. They say your father’s empire is rotting from the inside.”
“Huh. He has never mentioned it, neither has Enrico.”
“I think he’s been keeping you in the dark until he ensured you were back in the fold. I think he considered that you would take sides, and it wouldn’t be his.”
Interesting, but he’s not wrong. I actually don’t give a shit what happens here.
It’s not my problem, but it makes me sad for Pedro that he has never escaped this life.
The sun finally starts to dip below the edge of the world, leaving the sky a soft lavender bruised with rose.
I focus on the spot where the sun was, contemplating just packing up and going home.
“You okay?” Pedro asks, touching my arm gently.
I look at him and see the concern in his eyes. Aside from Lucas, I can’t think of anyone else who gives a fuck about me.
“I’m good. Listen, I’ve got to get back for dinner with my father.”
“Come on, I’ll walk you back up.”
“How sweet of you,” I joke, and he play punches me in the arm.
We walk leisurely back up to the house and Pedro catches me up on his life.
He has a partner at home and is happy. His father died two years ago and it set him free to live his life.
Nobody knows he is with a man, as this is not the most welcoming workplace for anyone not in the heterosexual category. But he’s happy and I’m happy for him.