Chapter 12
Sarah
Gianna cornered me in the kitchen the morning after everything happened.
“Start from the beginning,” she demanded, blocking my path to the coffee maker like a caffeinated guard dog. “And don’t leave out a single detail.”
I’d called her last night to ask permission to borrow clothes, which in retrospect had been a tactical error. She’d immediately known something was wrong and had spent the entire call extracting information while I stood in Hector’s guest room wearing a towel.
“There’s not much to tell,” I said, trying to edge past her toward the caffeine I desperately needed. “I needed a place to stay, and Hector offered.”
“Oh my god.” Gianna’s face transformed, her grin spreading wide enough to be illegal before noon. “I knew it. I knew he liked you.”
“What? No. That’s not what I said.” My face went warm. “I just meant he’s been decent, that’s all.”
Decent. Right.” She looked entirely too pleased with herself, like she’d just solved a mystery no one asked her to investigate. “The man who you said schedules his emotions is being decent to you specifically. Nothing suspicious about that at all.”
“Gianna, stop.”
“I’m just saying, I’ve worked here for two years and I’ve never seen him offer anyone a place to stay. Not even when his driver’s apartment flooded last year.”
“That’s different. I work with Lily.”
“So did the last three therapists he fired.” She settled onto a stool. “Face it, Sarah. Something’s different.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell her she was reading into things that weren’t there. But something stirred in my chest, something warm and unfamiliar that I didn’t want to examine. I pushed it away and reached for the coffee maker.
“You’re delusional,” I said—too quickly, too defensively.
“And you’re deflecting.”
“I’m caffeinating. There’s a difference.” I poured coffee and took a long sip, using it as an excuse not to meet her eyes. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Fine. Tell me about Lily speaking. Mom’s going to lose her mind when she hears.”
“Full sentences.” The memory still made my chest feel too full. “She asked if I could stay the night.”
“That’s incredible.” Gianna’s teasing fell away, replaced by genuine warmth. “She chose to speak for you.”
“For herself, really. She just wanted company.”
“Sarah, take the win. You got through to her when nobody else could.” She paused. “And apparently you got through to her father too, since he actually cooked for you.”
There it was again, that flutter in my chest that I absolutely did not want to acknowledge. I focused on my coffee and tried to sound casual. “He’s… a good cook.”
“Mom says he doesn’t even touch the stove. And suddenly he’s making you pasta?” She studied my face. “Something changed, Sarah. Whether you want to admit it or not.”
I thought about Hector in that kitchen, the way his hands had moved with confidence I’d never seen in him before.
The way he’d smiled when Lily hummed while washing vegetables.
The way his whole body had seemed lighter, less burdened, like cooking had given him permission to be someone other than the grieving widower who controlled everything through distance.
And when Lily had spoken, I’d watched his face break open with emotion he couldn’t hide.
That version of Hector Valdez wasn’t someone I knew how to process or categorize.
“How long are you staying?” Gianna asked, pulling me back to the present.
“Just until I find a new place. A week, maybe two.”
“And then what?”
“Then I go back to normal life, I guess. Find an apartment, figure out my next steps.”
“Will you keep working with Lily?”
The question made my stomach drop because I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know. I still don’t know how to set professional boundaries and all that.”
“Professional boundaries,” Gianna repeated slowly. “You’re living in his house, Sarah. I think those boundaries blurred about twelve hours ago.”
She wasn’t wrong, but admitting that felt dangerous. Like acknowledging that something had shifted between Hector and me, and once I acknowledged it, I’d have to deal with what it meant.
“I should check on Lily,” I said, setting down my empty cup. “She’s probably awake by now.”
“Running away from this conversation won’t make it go away.”
“Watch me.”
I left before she could argue, but her words followed me down the hallway. Something’s different. Whether you want to admit it or not.
The days developed their own rhythm after that—a gentler one than I was used to.
Lily spoke more, short sentences that came easier each time.
“Good morning, Sarah.” “Can we read this?” “Thank you, Daddy.” Each word felt like watching something fragile become stronger, and I couldn’t get enough of hearing her voice.
We did our sessions in the therapy room like always, but now Hector participated instead of watching from his office. He’d bring Lily warm cocoa halfway through, praise her when she completed an exercise, sit quietly in the corner and observe without making her self-conscious.
And I noticed him watching me too—quick glances when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, his expression unreadable. Sometimes our eyes would meet, and I’d look away instantly, my pulse doing something complicated that I refused to analyze.
One afternoon, I wandered into a part of the penthouse I’d never explored before. A glass door led to a rooftop garden, and when I stepped outside, the sight stopped me completely.
Flowers bloomed everywhere—roses, hydrangeas, and delicate plants I couldn’t name—arranged with a kind of intentional tenderness. The space was beautiful in a way that felt intentional, like someone had poured love into every corner.
Mrs. Valdez loved gardens.” Mrs. Pearson’s voice drifted from behind me, and I turned to find her standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Valdez planted all of this for her. Spent months researching which flowers would thrive up here, what colors she’d like best. He used to come out here every evening to care for them. ”
“Used to?”
“Not since the accident. He hired workers to maintain it, but he hasn’t set foot in this garden in two years.” Her expression carried a sadness that made my chest ache. “He can’t bear to see what he built for her.”
I looked back at the flowers, imagining Hector kneeling in the dirt with his hands in the soil. Creating something beautiful for the woman he loved, pouring his heart into every plant. And then losing her and never being able to come back to this place that held so much of what they’d shared.
The image of that man, the one who planted gardens and sang while cooking, kept colliding with the cold, controlled version I’d known for six months. How much grief did it take to transform someone so completely? How much pain to make you abandon the things that once brought you joy?
I stayed in the garden longer, running my fingers over rose petals and breathing in the scent of jasmine. Wondering what it would take for Hector to find his way back here. If he even wanted to.
When I finally went back inside, I found Hector talking to Lily. He was crouched over her shoulders speaking words too low for me to hear.
I caught myself noticing things I’d spent months pretending not to see. I already knew the way Hector’s hand went to the back of his neck when he was uncertain about something, but watching the way he looked at his daughter with such fierce protectiveness made my chest ache.
I used to look at him and feel nothing but frustration. Now I couldn’t stop noticing the small gestures—the ones that revealed the man underneath all that control. couldn’t stop seeing the person underneath all that control. And I didn’t know how to make myself stop.
The more I tried not to think about this guarded man—his walls, his grief, his unexpected moments of kindness—the more my brain insisted on doing exactly that.
I needed to find a new apartment. Soon. Before whatever was happening in my chest became something I couldn’t pretend wasn’t happening.
Mr. Valdez’s birthday is next week,” Mrs. Pearson mentioned one morning over breakfast. “The fifteenth.”
I looked up from my coffee. “Does he usually do anything for it?”
“He’s been out of town the last two years. Always schedules business trips around that time—conveniently.” Mrs. Pearson’s tone suggested the timing wasn’t coincidental at all. “But he’ll be here this year. First time since Mrs. Valdez passed.”
The weight of that information settled in my chest. Running away from the day by burying himself in work, by making sure he was anywhere but home where memories lived. I understood that instinct more than I wanted to admit.
“We should do something,” I said before I could talk myself out of it.
Gianna looked up from her phone. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something small. Just to acknowledge the day.” I looked at Lily, who was coloring at the table. “Don’t you think your daddy deserves a celebration?”
Lily’s eyes went wide, and she nodded so enthusiastically her braids bounced. “Surprise party?”
“Exactly. A surprise party. Nothing huge, just the people in this house. What do you think?”
“This is either going to be wonderful or a complete disaster,” Gianna said. “The last birthday he was actually here for was with Mrs. Valdez. This could bring up a lot of feelings.”
“Or it could show him that being here, being present, doesn’t have to hurt.” I watched Lily already sketching something that looked like a cake. “And I think Lily’s been waiting a long time to celebrate with her father again.”
“She has,” Mrs. Pearson said quietly. “Even if she never said it.”
That decided it. “Then we’re doing this. For both of them.“
The week passed in a blur of secret planning. Lily threw herself into the project with enthusiasm I’d never seen, whispering plans with me and giggling when Hector walked into rooms. We decided on a cake, decorations, nothing elaborate. Just enough to make the day feel special.
The morning of his birthday, we gathered in the kitchen after Hector left for a meeting. Mrs. Pearson had already assembled ingredients, and I pulled out mixing bowls while Lily watched me.
“Can I crack the eggs?” she asked, her voice gaining confidence by the day.
“Absolutely. But gently, okay? We don’t want shells in the cake.”
She cracked them carefully, and only got a tiny piece of shell in the bowl. I fished it out and gave her a high five.
“You’re a natural. Your dad would be proud.”
“Daddy taught me before. Before Mama died.” She said it matter-of-factly, but I saw the shadow cross her face. “We used to bake together.”
“Well, he taught you well. Look how perfect that is.”
We mixed ingredients and poured batter into pans, and when the cakes went in the oven, Lily insisted on decorating while we waited. She proved surprisingly talented, creating intricate flower designs with frosting that looked beautiful.
“Where did you learn to do that?” I asked, genuinely impressed.
“YouTube.” She grinned. “I watch videos at night sometimes.”
“Sneaky. I like it.”
Gianna appeared with streamers and balloons, and we spent the afternoon transforming the living room into something festive but not overwhelming. Mrs. Pearson handled the final details while Lily and I worked on the cake, layering it with buttercream and adding the decorations Lily had designed.
When we finished, we all stepped back to admire our work. The cake was beautiful, the decorations were perfect, and Lily looked happier than I’d seen her since I started working here.
“He’s going to love it,” I said, wrapping an arm around her small shoulders.
“You think so?”
“I know so. Your dad loves you more than anything. This is going to mean everything to him.”
Gianna checked her phone. “We need to hide. Turn off the lights. The whole thing.”
“Who’s going to call him in?” Mrs. Pearson asked.
We all looked at each other. Calling Hector Valdez to walk into a surprise party felt like volunteering to poke a sleeping lion.
“I’ll do it,” Gianna said. “I’m the hero this family needs—and I’ll call the grumpy bear.
Lily frowned, and her whole face scrunched up. “Daddy’s not a bear.”
“What? I didn’t say he was a bear, sweetie. I said I’m a hero.”
“You said he’s grumpy like a bear. I heard you.”
Gianna’s face went red. “Oh. Right. That. I was just joking, Lily. Your dad’s not grumpy, he’s just… actually the best boss ever. Really. The best. I love working for him.”
I tried not to laugh at how quickly she backtracked, but Lily’s scowl was too adorable and Gianna’s panic was too genuine. The laugh escaped anyway, and then Lily was giggling too, and suddenly we were all laughing in the living room like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Come on,” I said, taking Lily’s hand. “Let’s find a good hiding spot before your definitely-not-grumpy father gets home.”
We searched the living room, but the space was too open. Everything was visible from every angle, and there was nowhere to hide that wouldn’t be immediately obvious.
Lily tugged my hand and whispered, “Just turn off all the lights. Then we hide by being invisible.”
“That’s genius.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re absolutely brilliant, you know that?”
She beamed, and we scrambled to turn off every light in the living room. Mrs. Pearson and Gianna positioned themselves behind furniture, and I crouched next to Lily near the couch, both of us barely containing our giggles.
The sound of the elevator arriving made us all freeze. Footsteps approached, confident and measured, and I held my breath.
This was either going to be a great surprise or it’s going to completely backfire.
But watching Lily vibrate with excitement beside me, seeing the joy on her face, I knew we’d made the right choice. Whatever happened next, Hector’s daughter had given him a gift. She’d shown him that happiness was still possible—that celebrations didn’t betray the dead.
The door handle turned, and my heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it.
Here we go.