Page 37 of The Last Sunrise

He slices a lime and squeezes the juice over some of the fish.

“I think it has to do with my mom’s obsession with erasing her past. Even though she’s from here, she never really had me try any food from Spain, or seafood in general. I don’t know why… but she always has. Rich or not, she steers clear from anything that reminds her of this place.”

Julián’s face is full of confusion. “Your mom’s from here? The island or from Spain, or Europe?”

“Here on the island. I know it sounds naïve and clueless of me, but she’s so secretive about her past before she became my mom, and we aren’t that close. I don’t know where on the island, but I’m trying to find out. I would be bragging from the rooftops and visiting monthly if I was from somewhere like this.” I wave my hand toward the coastline.

“And you don’t speak any Spanish?” he wonders, confused.

Shaking my head, I try to give him the fast version. “No. I mean, I picked up some from my nanny, but my mom never, ever uses her mother tongue, and the only time she encouraged me to learn so much as a few words was right before we came here. Something must have happened here that made her turn her back on where she’s from, and I thought I could find out what it was this summer. It’s a long, complicated saga, but she barely speaks about her life here.”

He studies me and I can almost feel him debating whether to ask me more, but I’m sure he can tell by my tone and thetime we’ve spent together so far that my mom is a sore subject, to say the least.

“Hmph. Your dad is white?” he bluntly wonders, moving on from the subject of my mom.

I’m so curious if he maybe knows someone who knew her or knew my abuelita, or anyone in my bloodline, but I’m not ready to ask him, not yet. Plus, the chances are very slim anyway, so I plan on doing my own detective work to at least find her old home, or a friend she had, something or someone to give me a link to who she was and where she came from. But I won’t ask Julián, not today.

I nod. “Yeah, but I look more like my mom. If you saw her, you would immediately recognize this nose and face.” I smile, pointing at my distinctive nose.

“Please tell me you’re not insecure about your face. You’re magnificent.”

I cough, surprised by his directness. “I amnotinsecure. I like my face, I was just saying I have her features, and in my town they aren’t very common.”

“Well, Ry, you’re not very common and shouldn’t want to be. Look at you.” His eyes rake over me, and I feel like I’m completely undressed before him.

“Is that your tagline? You say that to all your girls?”

“Is that your way of deflecting a compliment? Bringing up other women?”

I shake my head, denying the truth he called out. “No, that’s my way of finding out how many women you’re involved with. I’m not the jealous type, so don’t get defensive. I’m just curious.” My focus shifts to my hands, picking at my cuticles.

“Truthfully, your question bothers me, but for your sake and mine, I’ll answer it. But if you don’t believe me, it’s your issue and I’m not going to try to prove otherwise. You can either trust and believe me or not.” He shrugs, tossing the dry lime into a small, opened garbage bag a few feet away.

“Continue,” I urge, my nerves growing.

He’s unpredictable, giving me no hints of what will come out of his mouth. I both enjoy and despise his brashness.

“I’m not seeing, dating, or hooking up with anyone. The last woman I was with was a one-night stand from northern France. I didn’t ghost her, by the way, and I don’t just ghost women. I hate that term. Sometimes it’s okay to cut off contact with people without explaining, especially when they’re strangers. It doesn’t always mean someone’s an asshole.” He rolls his eyes and continues. “I make it clear that I’m not looking to date or get married, and no tourist Amara gossiped to you about has had that expectation.” He pauses, looking toward the clear sky.

“None?” I ask.

“One.” He nods. “But I quickly realized she was a little off and she stalked my friends, ran through the streets screaming my name, showed up at my work, until her trip was up and she left the country.” His voice is full of relief.

Not knowing her or the full story, but if he swooned her the way he is me, I can’t really blame her for her obsession. It’s been a few days and I’m nearly there.

“What about you? You came here to live your best life, right? So how many boats have you been on so far? And are you sure you don’t have some American football player fiancéwaiting for you to have his baby and name it some name with a randomYin the middle?”

I laugh at that, thinking of all the Facebook and Instagram posts from people my age who are way further along in their future than I am… or will likely ever be.

“No. Sadly, I don’t have a fiancé and never have. If I did, I’d like to think he’d be here with me, enjoying the summer together.” I sigh, lost in a hopeless daydream.

“Too bad it’s just me here. But I can feed you and I’m good with my hands.”

“Stop trying to seduce me,” I tease, reaching for a bottled water near his leg.

He reaches for my hand and pulls it to him, gently moving me to fall onto his lap.

“I haven’t begun yet,” he warns seductively, moving my hair to the opposite side of my neck to expose the skin there.

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