“Yeah,” I murmur, hugging her back without squishing her growing belly. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Alejandro kisses my cheeks in farewell as he and Marlowe leave my apartment. I have to finish packing and shower and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be on the road early.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stare at my cell phone. The blank screen, devoid of any messages, irritates me. I wish Luca had reached out ahead of today’s game, but I knew he wouldn’t. His pride won’t allow it just like mine is keeping me from calling him now.
But, when we won today, he was the first person I wanted to tell. I desperately wanted to video call him, see his beautiful smile, and scream out the news.
Sucking in a breath, I tap Luca’s name and wait for the call to connect.
Except…it doesn’t. It doesn’t even ring.
Frowning, I try again. A busy signal.
Did he turn off his phone?
Did his battery run out?
I place my cell phone on my bed and aimlessly pace around my apartment before convincing myself to shower. I take an everything shower, even applying a hair mask. But when I step out, there’s no return call from Luca.
I try him again. Busy signal.
Worry crashes over me and I begin to panic.
Did something happen? Is Bianca okay? Álvaro?
I shake my head. “You’re being ridiculous. Paranoid.”
I blow-dry my hair. Apply moisturizer.
And then, I can’t take the not knowing any longer. Feeling like something is off, I dial Álvaro.
“¿Hola?” he answers.
Good. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Álvaro, hola. Soy Carla. Te llama porque—” Álvaro, hi. It’s Carla. I’m just calling because?—
“Carla? Gracias a Dios te llamas. Ha habido un accidente,” he breathes. Carla? Thank God you called. There’s been an accident.
I grip my phone tighter, feeling the blood drain from my face.
Sounds carry through my apartment and when I look up, Alejandro is standing in the doorframe of my bedroom, the emergency keys I gave him to my place before I leave town tomorrow dangling from his finger.
I stare at him, not sure if I’m hallucinating or if he’s really there. I try to pull in a breath but the oxygen stutters and my vision blurs.
“Mierda,” Ale swears, reaching me right before I go down.
He takes the phone from my hand and converses with Álvaro in rapid Castellano before ending the call.
“Carlita,” he murmurs. “We have to go to the hospital.”
I nod. Yes, there’s been an accident.
I bow my head and fold my hands in my lap, trying to make sense of what Álvaro said before Ale took my phone.
A motorcycle lost control.
Luca was rushed to the hospital by ambulance.
No update yet.
