Page 9 of Keepsake

It didn’t matter though, because she was there, and she saved me so many times.

But I couldn’t save her.

My thoughts were interrupted when the front door flew open and Alvaro stood there, his arms crossed over his chest.

I sighed, grabbed my keys, and exited the car.

The man was bigger than the door. At least he looked bigger. His eyes narrowed like I was doing something wrong by staying in my car a second longer than he desired.

As I made my way to the porch, I glanced at the white pickup truck in front, a blue logo stamped on the driver’s door. The image of a castle with written CASTILLO CONSTRUCTION underneath. I turned to the man at the front, my eyebrows raised. “Clever.”

“I’m a genius.”

I wished someday I could look at Alvaro without the back flashbacks of his MMA days. I urged my brain to not notice the way his thighs were muscly under his jeans, or how his arms bulged stretching the well-worn T-shirt. It was weird seeing him like that, in person. He was just as intimidating as he looked in the MMA cage, maybe even more so.

“What were you doing?”

I reached Alvaro, just his enormous self between me and the Castillo’s home. For some reason, I didn’t want to lie. “Breathing in.”

His eyebrows relaxed when he took me in. A beat passed, and he dipped his chin, passing his palm over his buzzed hair.

At the first step, I felt overwhelmed. I had no idea how they did it. How they looked at those walls and didn’t miss her so much, it drove them insane.

Alvaro guided me to the living room. His parents were already waiting. I couldn’t help but notice the picture of Sofia with me was removed. So Caridad didn’t think I was mantel worthy. Shaking myself off, I stopped, a stiff smile on my lips.

It was Geraldo who moved first. He stood up and offered his hand. “Thank you for coming, Logan.”

My feet made the move and brought me to Sofia’s dad. He always let us do whatever we wanted when he was home—cookies, pizza. Whatever we weren’t normally allowed, we were if Geraldo was in charge.

My smile fell a little when I turned to grab Caridad’s hand. That nagging feeling of wanting to jump through hoops to make this woman like me barrelled through my chest. I needed to move on.

I sat down on the armchair opposite of their three-piece couch, facing Caridad and Geraldo. Alvaro waited awkwardly at the door, then with a sigh, he moved and took the other armchair.

With my hands resting on my lap, I let the silence stretch. I didn’t care. I dealt with people with worse tempers than the Castillo family. If they wanted to sit in horrible silence? That was fine. I could do that.

Someone couldn’t, though.

“So, let’s talk,” Alvaro started.

“Where are the kids?”

“Neighbors,” he replied. “They got an indoor pool.”

I nodded and asked nothing about if Lachlan was allowed to swim by himself or if he had a floaty.

Clearing my throat, I started, “It’s been a month. I hope things are better—”

“Things will never be better again,” Caridad interrupted me.

I squeezed my eyes shut but kept going as I opened them. “What I mean is, things are more settled now, and I’d like to talk about the kids’ future.”

Caridad took a breath, her eyes darting to the two men in her family, and when they didn’t say anything, she took it as an incentive to say her piece.

“There’s nothing to talk about. The kids belong to their family. We are their family. We’ll raise them.”

I sighed, exhausted even though I’d only been there three minutes. “I’m trying to be reasonable.”

“So leave the kids be,” she said sharply. “Leave them well enough alone.”

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