Page 72 of Friends With Benedicts

“I can have a sticker now?”

I chuckled and picked her up, kissing her forehead. “Yup, you earned it.”

We exited the booth, and Priscilla wriggled out of my arms like a salmon, charging Jo for a sticker.

I felt him before I saw him standing in line with his mom and Abuela, who had a shiny new walker with a seat on it. His gaze weighed a thousand pounds, driving me into the ground like a railroad spike.

When Priscilla saw him, she screamed Daddy! loud enough to make everyone in the gymnasium jump, and there was nothing I could do but hurry after her, apologizing as I went.

By the time I got to them, she was deep in a retelling of her voting experience that involved frequent pointing at her prized sticker. He listened with an amused sort of rapture, the sight of which felt like another hammer fall, pounding me into the dirt.

“Presley,” Mercedes said sweetly, opening her arms for a hug that was long and warm and a little bit sad.

“Hi, how are you guys?”

“Vente aquí,” Abuela commanded, one arm up and hand signaling me to hug her too.

“Hi, Abuela.”

“Hello, mija,” she said, then added so only I could hear, “Entiendo es complicado, pero está bien. Okay? We love you para siempre. Always, always.”

My throat jammed, my nose burning. “I’ll miss you.”

She squeezed me a little tighter. “Not as much as we’ll miss you, cariño.”

She didn’t let go until I did. If I’d held on a second longer, I would have lost it right there in front of everybody.

Mercedes smiled in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. “Can Cilla still spend the night tonight? If she’s not too tired from voting, that is.” She crooked her finger to tickle Priscilla.

“I’m not tired,” she said around giggling. “We can play in the pool?”

“Sure,” Mercedes answered. “Maybe we can convince Daddy to play too.”

“I was born ready,” he said with a smile of his own, though it was touched with longing.

Everything about the moment hurt.

Sebastian and I still hadn’t made eye contact.

“You leave in two days?” Abuela asked.

I nodded.

“Did you decide when you might be back?” Mercedes asked, trying to mask her hope.

“Soon, I think. Maybe Christmas? With my new job, we should be able to afford to fly. I’ll have paid vacation and everything. I can hardly believe it,” I said on a small laugh.

“It sounds perfect,” Mercedes said. “We’re so happy for you and Birdie. Are you excited to go back to California?”

Honesty wasn’t an option—it would only make everyone uncomfortable and sad to hear me say that I wasn’t excited at all, and it’d require far more explanation than I had the emotional energy for, standing in line in a gymnasium.

So I put on my fake waitress smile and said, “I am. You’ll all have to come to the farm when Abuela is on the mend. It’s beautiful there, and there’s so much to do. Right, Cilla?”

She nodded with a grin on her face. “There’s chickens and baby cows and goats! In pajamas!”

Everyone laughed but Sebastian and me.

“And Elvis’s brother and sister live there too! We play allllllll the puppy. And Livia gives me pokkacicles.”

“You’re a broken record, kid,” I said, not wanting to talk about leaving anymore. When I held out my hands for her, she grabbed Sebastian around the neck like a monkey with a magnificent pout on her face.

“I don’t wanna.”

My mouth opened as I floundered for what to say and had nothing.

“She can stay with us, if it’s okay with you,” he said. And for the first time since walking up, our gazes locked.

For a second, I lost my capacity for logic or reason, swept into the depthless black of his eyes and left to drown. In moments like this, everything was simple. Every choice was easy. I was meant for him, and he was meant for me. Simple as that.

But the truth was that we’d complicated everything, mucking it up with what felt like meaningless bullshit. If I asked him to stay, was it too late? If I told him I didn’t want to go, would he take me back? If I told him I loved him, would it fix everything?

The damage I’d done crept in behind his eyes, closing our connection like a steel door.

I took a breath long enough to slap the smile back on. “Sure, she can stay. How about I pack a bag and drop it off later?”

She bounced on his hip wildly enough to sway him. “Yay! Don’t forget floaties, Mama,” she commanded like she was my mother.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered with a wink and a salute. And, needing to get the hell out of there, I backed away, saying my goodbyes, making Priscilla promise to be good and say thank you.

As I walked to my truck, I mentally packed her swim bag, listing everything she’d need to spend the night and swim, floaties included. Couldn’t swim without that.

---