Anya
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The cheer erupted the moment I stepped through the front door. My parents’ whole house had been transformed. Candles flickered on every windowsill. The dining table had been pushed against the wall and covered end to end with food—all Colombian dishes.
I followed the voices and warm string lights looping the ceilings. They extended all the way into the back terrace that overlooked the ocean, making the area glow like it had been sprinkled with gold.
My mother reached me first.
“Happy birthday, my girl.” She hugged me tightly, kissing my cheeks over and over again.
My papa soon joined her, pulling us into his broad chest. “Happy birthday, Anya. We love you so much and we’re so proud of you.”
“I love you too,” I murmured, inhaling my parents’ comforting scent.
They handed me a box and I stared at it wide-eyed. “Is that…?”
Papa chuckled.
“Maybe. You’ll have to open it and see.” I ripped the wrapping off to find the latest Canon EOS R1.
I gasped, my eyes darting between the camera and my parents’ smiling faces. “It’s… Oh my gosh, I love it.”
“So you can capture many more memorable moments,” Papa said. “We’re so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.”
I blinked, tears burning in my eyes.
“I hope this year makes all your dreams come true," Mama whispered.
“Whether that includes travel, success, or a bunch of sex with random men.” I turned around and my aunt Willow and aunt Aurora stood behind me. I let out a squeal and threw myself into their arms.
“Love group hugs,” Aunt Aurora said. She wasn’t really my aunt, but she and Willow might as well be. They were always there for Gabriel and me. Our birthdays. Our christenings. Our graduations. Always.
“I didn’t know you two were coming. I’m so happy.”
Aunt Willow scoffed. “You didn’t think we’d miss this, did you?”
I chuckled. “I guess not.”
“We missed the other party,” Aunt Aurora pointed out. “But that was just bullshit and business.”
“Okay, you two,” Mama said in an exasperated voice. “Don’t manipulate the birthday girl.”
“We have every right,” Aunt Aurora claimed. “She’s our niece, godchild, our protege. You name it.”
“That’s right,” Aunt Willow added. “And I can tell you, our birthday girl needs some.”
“Huh?” My brows furrowed. “Need what?”
She gave me a pointed look.
“Oh my God, you two can be such a bad influence,” Mama protested. “Where are your husbands? I need to have a word with them about you.”
“Ha, good luck with that,” Aunt Willow said. “They do what we say. Not the other way around.”
She wasn’t exaggerating either. Their husbands were so in love with them, even after all these years, that neither one of them could do any wrong in their eyes. It was the same with my own parents. Lucky.
Jetmir flickered in my mind, and suddenly sadness overwhelmed me. Our love could have been the greatest too, if it wasn’t filled with deceit and lies. But there was no time to dwell on it, because Gabriel’s voice reached me, promptly extinguishing all thoughts of Jetmir. At least for now.
“Ditto, little sister. You deserve the world.”
I blinked several times, willing the stupid, wistful thoughts about my ex-husband into a dark corner. There was no room for that man in my life. All I had to do was look at my brother to be reminded of the damage he—we’d caused.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because Francesca and Gianna rushed over next. Francesca nearly spilled her wine as she threw her arms around my neck.
“Happy birthday!” She laughed.
“Drinking already?” I teased as Gianna followed, squeezing us both into a three-way hug.
“There she is.” Gianna gave me a subtle once-over, her grin mischievous. “The birthday girl. Twenty-two has never looked so good.”
“You two are ridiculous.” I pulled away to fan my face, the attention causing a blush to rise to my cheeks. “You make it sound like I just turned forty. We’re all close in age.”
“Pfft, I just like pointing out you’re getting older”—Francesca looked around before lowering her voice—“and divorced. It’s time you took action, girl. We’ve got to get you laid.”
“Yes, you have to live wild and free,” Gianna added. “Luckily your best wingwomen are here to make that happen.”
“Oh God,” I groaned. “That’s terrifying.”
She shimmied her shoulders, winking at Francesca before turning back to me. “You’ll love it. Let’s enjoy this party, then leave these old folks and go clubbing.”