I jerk back. “What?”
“I might act oblivious, but that doesn’t make me stupid. Something happened between you two while you were at college, so what was it?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re such a bad liar.”
I focus on the centerpiece. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You know you can tell me anything. I’m like Fort Knox.”
A whole minute goes by before I speak again. “We kissed.”
She squeals like a damn kid at Dreamland. “I knew it!”
I glare.
“What else? Tell me more!”
My entire face feels like it might burst into flames. “No.”
Her eyes bulge. “You guys had sex, didn’t you?”
A flower stem snaps between my fingers. “Lily!”
She throws her hands in the air. “Come on! I’ve waited years to ask you about this. At least take pity on me and entertain a few of my questions.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about this before?”
“You were avoiding him for some reason, so I wasn’t about to bring him up.”
“Yeah.”
“So what happened? I have my suspicions and everything, but I’m not sure.”
My gaze drops. “It’s complicated.”
“When did you realize you liked him?”
“Probably toward the end of our freshman year of college.” Homesickness and a psychology project forced us to rely on each other like never before, and little by little, the two of us became friends.
“And then what?” my sister asks.
I kissed him a few weeks before everything in his life went to shit.
My shoulders drop. “His dad died.”
“Oh.”
“Yup.”
“Makes sense. I assumed the sex was bad or something—”
I choke on a laugh, and Lily gasps.
“Ahh! It was good?”
I can feel the heat blooming across my cheeks.
“Great?” she squeaks.
“I refuse to talk about this with you.” Mainly because there is nothing to talk about. Julian made sure of that during a five-minute call that destroyed any hope of us having a future together.
You’re a distraction I don’t need, he told me over the phone after I offered to put the semester on hold and come back to Lake Wisteria after his dad died.
It was only a kiss, he spoke with a flat tone, making me feel like the dumbest girl in the world after I wanted to help him with his dad’s company because I was passionate about design too.
I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way, he said once I poured out my heart and admitted I cared about him in a real, raw, and scary kind of way.
I need time, he replied before ending the call.
It was the last time I spoke to him over the phone. All my other calls went to voicemail, even after I helped Oliver pack up his dorm.
Funny how confidence can take years to build and only a few interactions to destroy.
My sister cuts through the memories by speaking up. “Fine. I can respect your wishes. I’m just happy the two of you can be in a room together again.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“Josefina and Mom never said anything, but I know they missed having everyone under one roof. Things were never the same once you—” She catches herself.
“Moved to San Francisco?” I finish the thought for her.
She flinches. “Yeah.”
“I thought you liked spending holidays there?”
“I did, but I won’t lie. Nothing beats all of us getting together for Christmas, and no number of big-city holidays could replace how it feels to be home.”
My head drops. “I’m sorry.”
She walks around the table and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re back. For now, at least.”
“Likewise.”
My mom and sister drop me off near the cemetery with a promise to come back in thirty minutes. The three of us have visited this dreary corner of town plenty of times over the years, although it’s been a while since I last stopped by.
The bouquet of yellow roses trembles in my hands as I walk past the main gate.
Few people love yellow roses as much as my father did, and anyone who knew him heard the story of how he met my mom while searching Rose & Thorn for flowers before his date with another woman.
His memory makes my heart heavy with sorrow. Losing a parent is never easy, but being present at the young age of sixteen when mine flat-lined in an ambulance was devastating.
Luckily, I had a school counselor who cared enough to help me through the grieving process, and I poured the rest of my energy into getting a full ride to college like my dad and I always talked about.
I bend down and place the bouquet in front of his tombstone.
Hector Mu?oz. Devoted husband. Proud father. Beloved friend.
“Hola, Papi.” My chin trembles. “Ha pasado un tiempo desde la última vez que hablamos.”
Birds chirp in the distance as a gust of wind hits me. I zip my jacket all the way to the top before taking a seat on the ground. “I wish you were here more than ever.”
Ha pasado un tiempo desde la última vez que hablamos: Some time has passed since the last time we spoke
I pluck a blade of grass and wrap it around my finger. “Although maybe it’s for the best that you’re not around. I would’ve hated for you to overreact about the broken engagement and get thrown into jail for assault charges because of Oliver.” My laugh comes out all wrong thanks to the tightness in my throat.
A few leaves in the distance get picked up by another breeze.
“I made a big mistake.” My voice cracks. “I was so stupid, Papi.” Tears flood my eyes, although I fight to make sure they don’t fall. “I knew it too, but I still kept trying to make things work porque un Mu?oz nunca se rinde.”
My father raised us to follow his motto of ser fiel a ti mismo—stay true to yourself—and I tried my hardest to stick to his values.
Yet you failed anyway.
“But the problem was that while trying to keep my relationship intact, I forgot myself. I gave up all the things that made me special because I thought it was the right thing to do to make the person who supposedly loved me happy.” The tightness in my chest becomes unbearable.
“I realize now that the only person I was letting down was myself. I stopped trusting myself and the gut instinct that told me I deserved better.” My head hangs.
Porque un Mu?oz nunca se rinde: A Mu?oz never quits.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much in the last few years. Between us, I was kind of lost.” I tear the blade of glass to shreds before ripping another off the ground. “I’m going to find myself, though. Because Mu?ozes never quit—not even on ourselves.”
And by the time I leave Lake Wisteria after the holidays, I hope my soul will be fully healed.
CHAPTER TEN
Dahlia
I try my best to ignore my phone pinging, but after the eighth time, I give up. The Lopez-Mu?oz family group chat continues to go off before I have a chance to read the first message.
I scroll to the start of the new messages.
JOSEFINA
Why am I finding out from someone who isn’t my son that he and Dahlia are renovating a house together?
MAMI
What? OUR Julian and Dahlia?