“It was so much fun.” Her grin stretched wide. “I was thrilled to speak Spanish without even thinking.”
“You’re wasting time in college, peque.”
She wagged her finger. “No. I still have so much to learn. For once studying is fun, and I aced all my exams. Let me enjoy it.”
“Of course.” I slowed to kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you. Want to see where I grew up?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it—before the familiar ache in my chest warned me away.
But I wanted her to know everything. The joys and the wounds.
“I’d love to,” she whispered. “Please, show me.”
Half an hour later, we stopped in front of a building overlooking El Retiro Park. December cold pinkened Kaia’s cheeks. She looked adorable in her red jacket, and I hugged her close, stealing warmth as I stared up at the apartment where I’d once been happiest.
“Your mother shouldn’t have sold it,” Kaia said. “Your dad would’ve wanted you to keep it.”
“Maybe. Sometimes I wonder who lives there now.”
Kaia slipped her hand into mine. “I’m sorry, Ash. Time doesn’t make it easier, does it?”
“It’s fine.” I traced the back of her hand with my thumb. “I just wanted to show you. Javi’s mom lives nearby. And Miguel too.”
Kaia arched a brow. “Your dad’s mechanic?”
“That’s the one.”
“He never replied, did he?”
I shook my head. “Guess he doesn’t want to talk to me. No way he changed both his email and his number.”
“You know what?” Kaia tugged at my hand. “We’re going to visit him.”
She looked so hopeful, so eager to help, that I couldn’t tell her the truth—that he might not want to see me. The closure I’d chased for years would probably never come. My therapist had warned I might need to accept that to move forward.
I’d worry about that after today.
“Okay,” I said. “It’s a five-minute walk.”
I knew Miguel’s building like my own. Dad used to bring me often. I’d sit with Lego sets while they watched reruns of old races. Miguel always joked that real bikes weren’t as fun as the plastic ones, that he’d spend retirement surrounded by Lego bricks.
Was that what he did? Did he retire because of Dad’s death?
Memories crashed over me as we reached the entrance.
“What’s his apartment number?” Kaia asked, her finger hovering over the intercom’s chrome buttons.
“3B. We don’t have to do this, mi amor.”
“The worst we’ll get is silence.” She pressed the button.
One ring. Then another. And another.
My stomach dropped. This was it.
After five more tries, Kaia let go. “I’m sorry, Ash. I really wanted you to talk to him.”
“I did too. But maybe it’s for the best. It’s been years. He could’ve moved, started a family somewhere else.”
