Page 94 of Where She Belongs
“Too soon?”
Before she can answer, a knock at the door interrupts us. “Are you two done being sweet and all?” Tristy’s voice carries through. “Because the beef empanadas are getting cold and Tyler’s about to start eating his steak.”
“We’d better go rescue our food then,” Andrea says, but I hold her back for one more moment.
“Hey.” I wait until she meets my eyes. “I love you. Whatever happens, however our family grows, I love you.”
Her smile is radiant. “I love you too.”
Outside, our guests have taken over the patio with its amazing view of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Tristy and Tyler are showing the twins some new TikTok dance while Dax films it—although this one isn’t meant for posting. None of their pictures ever get posted; that’s how fiercely they value their family’s privacy and after Andrea and I went viral in Hawaii, I totally get it. I don’t want to go viral ever again.
Harlow’s deep in conversation with Nana, Sarah, Benny, and my mother about traditional New Mexican recipes, while Andrea’s parents chat with Todd, Sawyer and Alma about their latest renovation projects.
The only person missing is Daniel who, if he were here, would probably be discussing market trends with Tyler or making sure Nana doesn’t spend too much time in the kitchen cooking all our favorites (“let the kids cook for you, Nana,” he’d remind herand they… no, we all do even if she still continues to make my favorite breakfast burritos whenever she can).
Instead, Daniel’s in New York for some family matter he’s been cryptic about. Something about his sister’s family whose business he oversees. Whatever it is must be serious for Daniel to miss Sunday lunch, especially since the twins have been asking for their grandfather all week.
“There you are!” My mother spots us first. “Andrea, mijita, come tell me if these chiles are spicy enough for your taste.”
I watch as Andrea joins her, the two most important women in my life bonding over food and family traditions. My mother had been skeptical at first—her baby boy dating a divorced woman—but Andrea had won her over a long time ago, when she took over my practice for a week after my accident.
“Tio Gabe!” DJ calls out. “Watch this!”
I turn to see him attempt the dance move Tristy’s been teaching them, nearly knocking over the lemonade in the process. Andrea’s quick doctor reflexes save the pitcher as everyone laughs.
“Careful, buddy,” I say, steadying him. “Save the advanced moves for when you’re not near the food.”
“Speaking of food,” Eduardo says, “when are you two hosting that big dinner you promised? The one to celebrate the clinic partnership?”
Andrea and I share a look. We haven’t told anyone our other news yet—about her moving in permanently, about our plans for a family.
“Actually,” Andrea starts, reaching for my hand, “we were thinking next weekend would be perfect. We have some news to share.”
The knowing looks that pass between our family members tell me they’ve already guessed, but they play along.
“News?” Tristy’s eyes narrow. “What kind of news?”
“The kind that requires family celebration,” I say diplomatically.
“And maybe some help painting,” Andrea adds with a grin.
“Finally!” Dax throws up his hands. “That beige was killing my soul.”
As everyone launches into suggestions for home improvements and dinner menus, I pull Andrea closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“You happy?” I murmur.
She looks around at our gathered family—the one we’ve chosen and the one we were born to, all blending together in the afternoon sun. At the house that’s about to become our home. At the future we’re building, step by step.
“More than.” She tilts her face up to kiss me properly, ignoring the theatrical groans from the twins and Tristy’s “Get a room!”
“Speaking of rooms, is anyone going to mention the elephant in the room?” a familiar voice calls out from the side gate. “Like how Dr. Lova Lova finally got his head out of his ass?”
“Amazing how things change,” I murmur to Andrea, squeezing her hand as we turn toward that familiar voice. From Mile High Club discussions to planning our future together—who would’ve thought?
But then again, maybe everyone saw what I refused to admit all those years: that all those casual relationships were just me running from what I felt for my best friend.
“Claudia!” I break into a grin as my cousin strides through the garden, her husband Trevor right behind her. Her flight from Virginia Beach must have just landed. “I thought you couldn’t make it!”
