Chapter 50
One month later
“Why are we having dinner at your parents’ house on a weekday?”
I glance sideways and notice she’s restless. My little firecracker seems ready to take off at any moment. “You can barely sit still, can you?”
“Of course I can. I’m not anxious, just trying to understand.”
“Baby, you’re the worst liar in the world.”
“Okay, maybe I’m a little anxious, but only because I don’t like surprises.”
“And the lies keep piling up . . .”
“I could punish you for keeping secrets.”
Oops!
“What kind of punishment are we talking about?” Now I’m paying close attention. If it’s a sex strike, the idea of a surprise will quickly change.
“I’ll think of something, but maybe I’ll tie you to the bed and pleasure you endlessly.”
“That sounds more like a gift than a punishment.”
“God, you’re such a relentless negotiator. Now you’ve got me.”
“You should have offered something challenging because, love, being with you naked, pleasuring me, even with hands tied, is my definition of paradise.”
“I give up.”
We’re stopped at the traffic light, and I pull her in for a kiss. “The truth is, we’ll have two surprises today.”
“Oh my God! You must be trying to give me gastritis from so much anxiety.”
I drive in silence for a while, and I can see her agitation increasing. When we finally arrive at my mother’s house, before she can jump out, I pull her into my arms. “Haven’t they ever told you that the anticipation can be more fun than the surprise itself?”
“For people who don’t suffer from anxiety, maybe it works. Not in my case. Is there anything I can do to convince you to tell me?” She wiggles on my lap, teasing.
“Why listen when you can see?”
We look at each other in silence for just a few seconds, but then she cups my face and kisses me. First, very gently, and the next moment, we’re burning up.
“My God, love.” I pull away to catch my breath. “How do you do that?”
“What?” She also seems a bit dazed. Lost in our world.
“You drive me crazy too quickly.”
“We drive each other crazy, you mean. I’m dying to take off your clothes right here.”
“I’m not sure if that would be a good idea.” I turn my head towards the house, and when Olívia sees Joaquín approaching, she jumps off my lap as if escaping a fire.
“Jesus, how embarrassing!”
My intrusive brother taps on the window. When I open the door, he says without any ceremony, “Aren’t you a bit too old to be making out in the car?”
Now Olívia’s cheeks look like two red spots. “Good evening to you too,” she says, with a stern face.
“Hi, sis.” He ignores her bad mood. “Come on in. We’ve been waiting for you, and someone’s eager to see you.”
We walk to the entrance, and my heart races because of what’s about to happen.
When the door opens, Olívia freezes.
Nina stands there, on her feet.
“Oh my God, love! You did it!”
Nina has been practicing her steps for days, but only last night did she finally take her first ones. Today, Mom says she hasn’t stopped.
In response to Olívia’s enthusiastic greeting, Nina starts walking, wobbles a bit, and sits down. Her beautiful forehead wrinkles in a frustrated frown, but before anyone can help her, she gets on all fours and stands up again.
“That’s right, my beauty. You’re so smart. My determined little girl.” Olívia kneels down and opens her arms. Valentina looks uncertain but hesitates only for a moment before taking short steps to reach her.
When my girlfriend hugs her, the emotion in both is expressed differently.
Nina laughs, triumphant.
Olívia cries, kissing my daughter’s head.
I finally feel complete. My whole world is here: Nina, the best part of me, and Olívia, the woman I’ve chosen to live with until the day I die.
“Sweetheart, come to Daddy for a bit.” I kneel beside them and pull out the little box I’ve been keeping in my pocket since we got back together.
Nina starts walking towards me. Olívia was already getting up, but I hold her arm.
“Not yet, love,” I ask my girl. “Princess Nina,” I start, and she laughs. For some reason, every time we call her princess, she bursts into giggles. “Can you give this to Olívia and ask her if she would honor me by becoming my wife?”
Valentina holds the box, of course, not understanding a thing, but Olívia does.
Contrary to all her reactions, this time it’s as if she’s moving in slow motion.
She looks from me to Nina and back to me.
“You two will be mine now,” she says.
This time, she’s the one stealing my words.
What she said is much stronger than a yes. Olívia is declaring to the world that she won’t let go of us.
“Never doubt that, love.”
We join in a triple hug, and I alternate kisses between her and my daughter.
Our family applauds, Nina smiles, and Olívia and I get lost in each other’s eyes.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Mom asks.
“We’ll need to double down on security.” Yes, you guessed it. It was Joaquín who said that.
“Con-grat-u-la-tions,” Dad manages to say with effort. He’s getting better. It’s a slow process, but my dad is a fighter.
“I’ll be the best man,” Rafe declares. “I’m the bride’s best friend.”
“I’ll be the best man,” Gael interrupts, on a video call. He’s wrapping up his new film but made sure to join the dinner remotely.
Only Martina is missing for the joy to be complete. I thought about waiting for her, but since she’s postponed coming home several times, I gave up. I hope she arrives in time for the wedding because I’m not willing to extend the engagement one more day than necessary.
I look at the woman who holds my heart. “Hey.” I hold her hand, squeezing it lightly.
Nina is in her lap, and Olívia hasn’t stopped smiling for a single minute since the proposal. Call me old-fashioned, but seeing the engagement ring on her finger does wonders for me.
When I fall silent, gazing at her doll-like face, she takes the initiative. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to wait. Even if you want a glamorous wedding with a thousand guests, just let me know what you need, and everything will be arranged, but I don’t want to wait too long.”
She starts laughing. “A thousand guests? Where did you get that?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need you to know that the wedding will be the way you want it. Carte blanche for everything, but I want to get married in no more than two months.”
“I don’t want a wedding for a thousand guests, but I insist it be in a church. Wait. Can you get married in a church?”
“I’m a widower, so by Catholic doctrine, I could, but anyway, there was no religious ceremony the first time. With you, I’ll do everything right.”
“It’s not about the party itself but the blessing, Guillermo. My faith is strong.”
“Whatever you want, little firecracker.”