Gabe chuckled, but didn’t reply. A mob of paparazzi surrounded us as we stepped out of the car, security in tow. They started with their usual onslaught of questions, and we ignored them, both of us keeping our heads down. Gabe pulled me into his side just as we were trying to step inside, and in that moment, I was grateful to have the bit of comfort he provided.
The moment lasted all of two seconds. Once the doors closed on the cameras, I pulled away and waited for him to hand me my ticket. I was surprised his manager wasn’t traveling with us and said as much as we went up the escalator. We both slept throughout the flight, not even bothering with the food they served, and by the time we landed we were starving. My mom had offered to have food ready for us, and I felt the need to extend the invitation to him, though I was hoping he turned it down. He didn’t.
“I feel like I owe it to her to see her before . . .” He let his words hang. Before the divorce is final, I guessed. Before he never sees her again, I assumed. I didn’t care enough to ask, and I didn’t mind him going. “You know, I’ve never been to a red carpet event without you,” he said as we waited for the security detail to sort things out so we could exit the car.
Similar to the U.S., the paparazzi didn’t stop in Argentina. Once they caught wind that we were there, they were relentless. I was sure Darryl played some part in that.
“Yeah, well, you’ve done a lot of other things without me,” I said, shooting him a pointed look. He flinched.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It’s fine.” I paused. “It’s not fine, but it’s over, and I’m over it. I’m just glad the LA premiere is over with.”
“I really am sorry, Nic. I feel like . . .” He sighed. “We really had something good going for us. You were the only normal thing I had in my life, and I completely fucked it up.”
“You definitely did. Maybe we both did, though,” I said.
He shook his head. “It was all me.”
“Maybe you were right, though. I just couldn’t handle sticking around when things got tough. That’s on me.”
“Things got tough because of me,” he said. “I let this,” he waved his hands around, “change me. I let it change me. I see that now. I’m sorry I realized it so late.”
I shrugged. It is what it is. You can’t turn back time. “I wish you well, you know that, right?”
“Same goes for you.” He stayed quiet a long time. We got out of the car and were escorted to the front of the house, and he put his arm around me to shield me from the overzealous cameras that were nearly in my face. When we reached my mom’s door, he sighed and turned to me. “I’ve been dying to ask you something. Is something really going on between you and your lawyer?”
My mouth dropped. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t really just ask me that.”
My mom opened the door before he could say anything else, and my heart soared at the sight of her. People said we looked like twins, more than we did mother-daughter. I used to hate it when I was young because all the guys in school would tease me about wanting to bang my mom, but now I appreciated it. We had the same long dark hair, dead straight unless we attempted a curling iron, and the volume was always short-lived, the same blue eyes, and the same curvy body. Hers was a little fuller than mine, but she still looked incredible for her age.
“Hija,” she said, throwing her arms around me. I squeezed her so hard, I was sure I cracked her back. She backed away and held my face in her hands as she looked at me. “Te vez cansada,” she said.
“I am tired. I woke up at three in the morning and flew twelve hours,” I said, stepping aside so she could greet Gabe.
They hugged as if we weren’t waiting for the final papers of our divorce. My mom was like that, though. Forgiving, caring, always willing to give people a second chance until you fucked up again, in which case she’d put you on her shit list. With Gabe it was different though. She felt she saw him grow up, and she felt sorry for him. I also hadn’t filled her in on just how many women he’d evidentially cheated with.