Page 66 of When Sky Breaks

Bingo.

“You didn’t have to cook anything for us, you know that.”

She swats me with the towel before turning her attention to Sky.

“Oh, August, she looks just like those pictures you showed me. Only more beautiful in person. I’m Catalina, Benny’s mom, but you may call me Lina,” she says, her accent thick. “Welcome to my home. Come, we give hugs here.”

Sky narrows her eyes briefly at me while my cheeks flush before she’s scooped into a warm hug that she reciprocates. Lina’s hugs are the best and I can imagine Sky feels the warmth she never got from her own mother.

Once they part, we’re beckoned to follow Catalina into the house.

Sky nudges my bicep—hard—and whispers loudly in my ear when I bend down. “Lina? This is Lina?”

Biting my lip, I shrug and wince, holding Sky’s elbow as we pass over the threshold. “Guilty.”

“Ugh,” she grouses, “and here I thought this whole time…”

“What? That I was seeing someone?”

She turns her head to the side to shield her face, but the crimson on her neck gives her away.

I spin around as she halts, getting down to her eye level so she can read my face and all its sincerity. Clutching her cheeks with my palms, I rasp out, “Shortcake, there hasn’t been anyone but you this entire time. You’re the one always on my mind, in my everyday thoughts, and the one who’s never left my heart.”

Her skin heats under my hands, and her mouth parts as she takes in that very real confession I didn’t plan on admitting.

She swallows and trembles, staring at me while I brush my thumbs along her temple.

This is dangerous. I shouldn’t be touching her, telling her how I feel. But Johnny be damned. She’s here with me, not out somewhere with him, and I cling to that notion with everything I got.

“I know it’s complicated. But I can’t lie about my feelings anymore. I can’t keep them inside. It’s killed me not to tell you.”

Sky curls her fingers around my wrist like she’s about to rip my hand away, but she surprises me and keeps it there as her eyes grow glassy. Any breath I had disappears as we lock gazes.

Every sunrise and sunset we missed in all these years reflects in her sky blue eyes. If I have my way, we won’t miss any more.

I take one of her hands and gently kiss her scarred palm, the raised skin a reminder of all she’s lost. Tears gloss over her eyes. I hope she knows how much I regret the path our lives have taken us.

“August,” she breathes, close enough that I feel her breath but not close enough to collide. It’s self-preservation on her part so she doesn’t get hurt. But that space is painfully thin. Full of want and desire and the realization it won’t ever be enough.

“Come on, you two,” Catalina calls, interrupting us.

The moment gone, I drop my hands and move aside, letting her pass me into the house.

On unsteady feet, Sky enters the foyer, her eyes pinging every which way. From the family portraits to the Venezuelan landscapes hung above a wood-burning fireplace, the Torres home radiates warmth and comfort. After losing Carlos, Catalina forged on, never once straying from her duties as a caretaker. I believe she took her grief and poured love from it. That bit of her reminds me of Sky and her ability to see past the surface to what someone needs underneath.

And so, when I presented Catalina with the idea for this project, there was no hesitation.

“You two go on upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute with snacks.”

“Whatever it is smells delicious,” Sky murmurs before trailing behind me up the wooden staircase that creaks beneath our feet. Benny and I could never sneak out because of these steps, and that was likely the intention all along.

We step around piles of flooring, drywall, tape, paint, anything you can think of when doing a project of this magnitude. Most of the upstairs was gutted, but now it is finally taking shape.

“Wow. This is, well, I’m not sure, but this looks like a huge project.” Sky turns in a circle, eyeing the half-finished kitchen, living area, the original full bath, and two bedrooms. “But I don’t know what this means.”

Wiping my hands down the front of my jeans, I just dive right in.

“This will soon be a fully furnished and functioning apartment. Catalina is opening her home to mothers and victims of domestic violence. She’s going to house them and help them get back on their feet and out on their own. Help them look for jobs and get legal counsel if they need it. Whatever we can do to help, we will.”

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