Page 70 of The Fighter

“I won’t.” Where Alina’s safety is concerned, complacency is the last thing I’d risk.

He has one final bit of parting advice. “Have you told your family that you’re going to be in Valencia?”

I shake my head. It’s a four-day trip. What are the chances I’ll run into them?

His eyebrows slant in a frown. “That’s a mistake,” he says. “I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice, Tomas. You have to close the door to the past in order to move toward the future. If you like Alina Zuccaro, don’t just tell her. Take her home, introduce her to your family. Show her that she matters.”

He’s not wrong. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good luck.”

Ali is too nervous to appreciate the private plane. She sits forward in her chair, her body taut with tension. She passes up the attendant’s offer of a drink and stares out of the window without saying a word until we’re in the air.

Then she turns to me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I’ve completely forgotten. You haven’t been home in five years, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you looking forward to it? Have you told your family you’re going to be in town?”

“Not particularly,” I admit. “And yes, I texted my mother before we took off.”

“And what did she say?”

“I don’t know. I turned off my phone.”

She gives me a probing look. “This is a private plane, and nobody’s asked me to turn off my phone. You don’t think they’ll be happy to see you?”

“No.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve missed so much. My sister’s wedding and my nephew’s birth. My mother’s sixty-fifth birthday and my father’s seventieth. Every year, the Aguilar clan gathers to celebrate Christmas in my grandparents’ villa on the outskirts of the city. Not just my immediate family either. The entire extended clan. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Everyone. It’s a family tradition that dates back decades.”

Ali’s face softens. “And you haven’t been back because of Estela.”

“I thought she was the reason, but I think I’ve been lying to myself. It was a bad working environment, and I should have dealt with it head-on by quitting. Instead, I distracted myself with Estela.” I clench my hand into a fist. “I missed my only sister’s wedding. How do I come back from that? You just can’t. Too much time has passed, and the hurts have hardened. My family won’t be happy to see me back. They’re going to find it difficult to forgive me.”

She puts her hand on top of mine. My grandmother’s ring is on her finger, the sapphire glowing softly under the cabin light. “I don’t know your family,” she says, lacing her fingers in mine. “But they sound great. If you love them and they love you, you have to try. My mother died young, and toward the end, she didn’t even remember me. You never know how long you have with your loved ones. You have to make every moment count.”

This feels like a very weighty topic. “You say that now,” I quip. “You’ll change your mind when you meet them. They’re loud, opinionated, and nosy.”

Her expression is wistful. “It was just me and my mom growing up,” she murmurs. “I’ve always wanted a loud, meddlesome, opinionated family. I’d have loved a sister. Are you the older one or the younger? Do you have any other siblings?”

“No. It’s just Carlota and me. She’s two years older than me.”

“An older sister.” She smiles. “I was such a lonely kid that I used to make up siblings. Sometimes, it was an older sister, Paola. Paola had great clothes, and she’d lend them to me and teach me how to apply makeup. Then there was my brother Christian. He’d punch anyone who made fun of me.”

“Why would anyone make fun of you?”

“I was the odd one out at school,” she replies. “I didn’t know who my father was, and my mother kept to herself. When the other parents invited her to their parties, she declined. She didn’t even like me attending my classmates’ birthdays.” She shrugs as if it doesn’t bother her. “After a while, the invitations stopped coming.”

That’s why she’s going to Valencia. That’s why she’s burying her head in the sand about what kind of man her father is. I can relate. God, can I relate. There were plenty of warning signs that Estela Villegas was not who I built her up to be. That she was superficial, selfish, and materialistic. But I needed a reason to feel hopeful, and I latched upon Estela as the answer to all my problems. Who am I to judge Ali for ignoring the truth? After all, I did exactly the same thing.

Two hours later, the plane touches down in Valencia. We have a brief tussle over Ali’s duffel bag—she insists she can carry it herself, and I’m just as adamant that she isn’t going to. I win the fight. I’m laughing at the death glare she gives me as we turn the corner…

Loud, excited shrieks fill the air.

I freeze in shock.

My mother is holding one end of a huge banner that says, “Welcome home, Tomas!” and is jumping up and down in glee. My father holds the other end, beaming from ear to ear. Carlota has Adan in her arms, and at her side, her sheepdog Biel is busy barking her head off, just adding to the general commotion.

My brother-in-law Ramon grins at the look of utter shock on my face. “Did you really think we wouldn’t make a fuss?”

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