“At least you’re self aware. Two months ago, you’d have shut down at the idea.” She gives me a little smile. “If you can’t compete again, then we will be fine. We’ll take care of each other. You’ll find something that makes you happy, like coaching or instructing at a resort.”
All I can do is nod, forming a back-up plan in my mind just in case everything goes to shit. Mom’s right. I can find something that fuels my adrenaline, such as coaching. The idea of being a snowboard instructor at the resort isn’t a bad idea either.
Wrapping my arms around Mom’s slender shoulders, I pull her in for a tight hug. She returns my affection, softly rubbing my back.
“Te quiero mucho,” she whispers, a sentiment I return without a beat. “Dad would be so proud of you. He’s only ever wanted to see you thrive and succeed in what you love, and he’d be so happy to see all your medals and trophies and achievements.”
We part. Memories veil her eyes as she studies myexpression. I know she sees Dad every time she looks at me – everyone says we look alike in every aspect.
“I remember the first board I bought myself,” I say, looking at the picture frame on my dresser – a shot of Dad and me when I was barely five years old, ready to spend a day at the resort. We were wearing the same gear and I was perched on his shoulders, both our snowboards resting at his feet. And beside the frame, I catch sight of Alara’s hair ties and clips. If Mom also sees those, she doesn’t comment on it.
“It was adorable because you kept insisting on usingyourown money, but what Dad never told you is that he paid for it and put the cash back in your piggy bank.”
My mouth parts in slight surprise as I turn to face Mom again. She has that glint in her eyes, the one that she always has when talking about Dad. She’s a beautiful, magnificent woman, and all I wish is for her to find true happiness again. She never thought of dating after Dad passed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to live the rest of her life without another man. After all, Dad was and will remain the love of her life.
“I had a feeling.” I chuckle, a sound filled with a sadness I can’t control. “God, I miss him, Ma.”
She lays her head on my shoulder and I place my cheek atop her hair. “I miss him too. So much. But he’s looking over us and making sure we’re all okay.”
“Yeah, he is. Do you miss dancing with him before going to bed?”
There’s a small beat of silence. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Flashes of the night when Alara tugged me out into the snow to dance crash into my mind. My chest hollows out once again, the throbbing pain making a thick lump build inside my throat.
Fuck, I miss her.
I love her. She’s my person.
But I fucked up so bad.
As though Mom has read my mind, she says, “Please tell me you’re going to fix it with Alara.”
Shock skitters down my spine. “How do you even know?”
She pins me with a look. “Seriously? It’s not like either of you were subtle about it. I saw the way you looked at her. You’ve been spending every hour of every day with her, and suddenly you aren’t anymore and you look like a sick puppy.” I can’t fight the blush creeping up the back of my neck and the way my pulse starts to quicken. “Diego, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in years, and you’d have to be a total fool not to see it yourself. I haven’t seen you so carefree in so long. It makes me happy to see you happy.”
“Gracias, Mamá.” Despite the warmth of her confession, I can’t bring myself to find a sliver of happiness inside me. It’s like the darkness I’ve finally managed to escape has pulled me into its abyss again.
“What’s going on? What happened between you two?”
“I screwed up.”
“How?”
So, I tell her. I tell her that I fell in love with my friend, with the girl who’s helped me salvage myself. I skip the friends-with-benefits part, but I let her know about how Alara managed to make me understand that I’m so much more than a professional snowboarder and that I’m worthy of happiness and love. After that, I talk about the argument because of the phone call, and how it’s led to the unbearable distance that now stands between us.
By the time I’m done, I realize there’s a tear that’s escaped my eye. I bat it away, quickly, and, even if Mom notices it, she doesn’t say anything.
“You really like Alara,” is Mom’s conclusion. But what I feel for her is so much more. Every fucking thing I feel for her is so poignant and deep that it goes down to my very bones.
“I do, and I messed up so bad, Mamá.” I shake my head, taking a deep, much-needed breath.
“We all say things we don’t mean, and we all make mistakes, and that’s okay as long as you fix it. But what are you doing? Packing up and leaving without a fight? Walking away instead of making things right? That’s not you. That’s not who I raised. You’re a fighter, so you’re going to go to her place right after this and talk it through. You’re going to win her back because she loves you and you love her. True love is worth fighting for. You only find that kind of connection once in a lifetime.”
I swallow the massive knot in my throat, looking away before tears can escape once more.
Will Alara still want me after the things I said to her?
