She blinked a few times, then turned to Alejandra. “You too?”
“Nah, I’m not that stupid.”
Ilias scowled.
Then, Alejandra continued. “I already have a spot in the Final Five—math-wise—so it made sense to come and stay with all of you before Cloudbreak.” She waved Sofia off, trying to sound breezy, but the tenderness in her voice betrayed her real feelings. It wasn’t lost on him how hard this was for her too.
Sofia turned back to him. Her questioning brown eyes softened. “Please tell me you didn’t leave because of—” she motioned vaguely around them, unable to say it aloud.
Ilias stepped closer. “I left to be close to you. In a moment that’s hard for you.”
“Why?” she asked quietly, her head tilting.
“It was a no-brainer, habiba. You come before anything.”
Her chin trembled again. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. He didn’t hesitate to pull her in tighter, pressing her close, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of her hair, reminding her he was there, that he wasn’t leaving.
“Can I be introduced to another Olympic gold medalist, then?” her father’s voice called out in Spanish with a very thick Italian accent.
Sofia sniffled and pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. A wide, sheepish smile spread across her face.
“Papà, this is Ilias, my boyfriend. Ilias, this is my Papà, Antonio.”
Antonio stepped forward, his hand extended, smile wide. A smile that was so Sofia it caught Ilias off guard.
“Piacere di conoscerla, Antonio.” He tried his best introducing himself in Italian. He had been rehearsing that sentence for the entire drive down. By the positively surprised look in both Antonio and Sofia, he may have nailed it.
Antonio replied something in Italian, fast enough to test his true knowledge. By his befuddled face, Ilias revealed himself.
“I tried to learn something in Italian. I’ll get better,” he smiled, apologetic.
“Don’t worry. The trick to learn a new language is not to be ashamed of making mistakes. Thirty years I supposedly speak Spanish, and I’m still not sure where to useporandpara.”
“Papà, Ilias speaks around five languages. He could definitely learn Italian way faster than you learned Spanish,” Sofia joked. Then, she turned to him, “Did you learn Italian while I was gone?”
“I tried–”
“The simp here has been studying since you two met months ago,” Alejandra chimed in, patting Ilias’ shoulder. “My guy here? He’s over the moon about you.”
Sofia blushed slightly, but Ilias didn’t waver under the subtle scrutiny. Everything Alejandra said was true.
Then Sofia’s mother, Maria, who had opened the door earlier, appeared behind him, one of the twins on her hip. “Pues, welcome to the family, Ilias. Thank you for coming here.”
“Are you sure you weren’t going to make the Final Five?” Antonio asked, one brow raised, his tone half-curious, half-challenging. He sounded worried, like a parent with his kid. Somehow, that worry warmed his heart.
“Yep,” Carlos jumped in, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis, destroying the moment. “The guy here doesn’t know how to do math and still thought he had a shot.”
Ilias flipped him off, then caught himself and quickly turned it into a fluttering fairy wave, eyes darting to the two little girls nearby who looked at him with wide eyes. That obviously sent Alejandra and Carlos into a fit of laughter. Sofia scoffed, but her smile lingered.
“Don’t worry about what those kids see,” Antonio said, deadpan. “Their mother acts like a lawyer but grew up like a sailor.”
“Hey!” Gabriella, who he had met through video calls, scoffed from the side, shifting another twin higher on her hip. “Ignore them. Nice to meet you in real life, Ilias. I’m Gabriella.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, wiggling his fingers in a small wave toward the other twin, who looked so much likeSofia it was almost comical. Same dark curls, same serious little eyebrows.
Gabriella, on the other hand, was all sunshine, short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The contrast made it easy to guess the family genetics without asking. Where Sofia clearly took after her Spanish side, Gabriella carried Antonio’s features. Kind blue eyes set in skin weathered gently by the sun. It reminded him of his own father, in a way that tugged unexpectedly at something in his chest.
“That’s true, hija,” Maria shrugged, unbothered.
