“So…” She began, lips curved into a knowing smile. “You and Zach are back together?”
“Yes,” Maria said quietly. “We, uh… Worked out our issues.”
Silvia’s smile only widened, soft and certain. “I knew you would.”
Maria let out a small laugh, though it was fragile around the edges. “Turns out it wasn’t as big as we both made it out to be.”
“Well,” my mother said, lifting her cup with a glint of mischief, “Sometimes love makes mountains out of pebbles. And pebbles out of mountains.” She winked.
Maria laughed again, freer this time. “That… Might be the wisest thing I’ve ever heard actually.”
“She does that,” I said, leaning back into the sofa cushions. “You should hear her when she’s drunk.”
“Francesca!” My mother gasped, feigning offense. But her eyes glittered, and Maria giggled into her teacup.
The hour unraveled gently after that – light conversation braided with heavier threads. The city had dimmed further when Maria and I rose to escort Silvia to the private elevator. Her security detail was already waiting, suits sharp, eyes scanning even though the building was a fortress.
My mother kissed my cheek first, then Maria’s, whispering something only she could make sound like both blessing and command:Take care of each other.
The elevator doors closed behind her with a soft sigh, leaving us in the muted glow of the corridor.
Maria turned to me with a small, tired smile. “You’re staying, right?”
I nodded with a smile. “Sleepover. Just like old times.”
The penthouse was awash in low light, warm golden pools from the sconces that softened the sharp edges of glass and steel. The city glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, skyscrapers rising like jeweled obelisks against the ink-black sky. We were sprawled across the massive sectional, cocooned in blankets, empty wine glasses scattered on the table with a half-finished bowl of popcorn.
Maria had moved her life into Zach’s penthouse, and you could feel her touch everywhere – candles on the window ledge, fluffy blankets on the sofa, fresh flowers in a vase by the kitchen island. It was softer now. Warmer. Like she’d breathed a little bit of her soul into all the corners he’d once left bare.
We were laughing about something Natalia had said when the sound of footsteps pulled our attention to the hallway.
Zach appeared, one hand braced against the wall, his dark hair messy from sleep. He looked healthy but stubborn, like he’d dragged himself out of bed just to prove a point.
“How’s the party?” He asked, voice still rough with sleep.
Maria shot up instantly, eyes wide. “Babe! You shouldn’t be standing.”
“The doctor said I can walk around after three weeks,” Zach said, like the stubborn kid I grew up knowing.
“Still,” Maria countered, her hands reaching out before she made it to him.
He grinned, the kind that made me smile just watching the two of them together. “Hermosa, I’m fine.”
Maria shook her head, lips pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Please. For me. It’ll make me feel calmer.”
Zach’s expression softened, and he gave in, just like that. Zachnevergave in. “Alright, alright.”
She walked with him to the couch where us the girls sat, moving carefully. He lowered himself between Natalia and me, exhaling like the act of sitting was more exhausting than he’d admit.
“I’ll get you something to eat, okay?” Maria said, running her nails through his hair before turning toward the kitchen.
“Thank you,mi amor,” He replied, eyes following her like gravity.
I scrunched my nose at him after taking a look at his patched-up wounds. “How are you, bro?”
“Good,” he said simply.
Natalia reached over to pat his shoulder gently, her bracelets clinking. “That good, huh?”
