* * *
That night, Sofia had driven straight to Leila’s place. Nick had answered the door. “She’s at a yoga or meditation class or something.”
Sofia checked the time on her phone. It was eight thirty. “You know what? I’ll just go.”
She’d felt silly showing up like that. She should’ve stayed home and dealt with Franco like an adult. Her phone hadn’t stopped ringing since she’d staged her walkout. It rang then. She hit the ignore button and silenced the ringer.
Nick gave her a quick once-over. “She won’t be long. Come in. I’ll open a bottle.”
Nick was good, luring her in with the promise of treats. “No, I shouldn’t—” Her phone buzzed in her hand, provoking a jolt of anger. The next thing she knew she was screaming at the thing. “Stop calling me!”
Nick’s blue eyes flashed. If he was judging her, though, there was no trace of it. He stepped aside and ushered her in. “What are you drinking? White or red?”
“Tequila.”
“You got it.”
Nick called Leila while pouring from a bottle of Patrón. “Sofia is here...Ten minutes?...Don’t worry...I love you.”
Sofia sat on a kitchen bar stool. “You guys still say ‘I love you’ on quick calls?”
She’d known Nick long before he and Leila were a thing. Sofia had worked with him on various projects. But the moment Leila had joined his team, it was clear to everyone that they were head over heels in love. But everyone had expected the infatuation to die down, especially after Nick moved away to New York for a year. And yet, here they were, almost two years later, happier than ever before.
Nick placed a glass before her. “We still do a lot of things.”
She took a gulp. The tequila went down smooth, but still she choked on it.
“Slow it down,” he said. “What’s going on with you?”
“Franco and I...”
Nick raised a hand. He didn’t seem interested in the salacious details. “Just tell me it’s over.”
“It’s over.” Sofia took a breath. Saying it made it true.
“Good,” Nick said.
The two men knew each other. Nick used to stop by Franco’s car dealership to check out the inventory. Sofia had always suspected they didn’t like each other much. What Nick said next confirmed it. “Sofia, Franco is an idiot.”
“No. I’m the idiot.”
“Why blame yourself?” Nick asked.
“Who else is there to blame?” she cried. “We were in trouble for months, for years, and I still forced him to propose.”
“You can’t force a man to do anything,” Nick said. “Besides, Leila said you two were wrong for each other.”
“She said that?” Sofia sat up straight.
“Leila admires you,” Nick said quietly. “She had a feeling something wasn’t right, but trusted you knew what you were doing.”
“Is that what you two do, cuddle up in bed and gossip about me?”
Nick shook his head. “Not in bed, no.”
Sofia frowned. She and Franco never gossiped. Even if she came home with a hot story, he didn’t indulge her.
“Why did you want to marry him so badly?” Nick asked.
Sofia hid her face with her hands and groaned. “We’d been together for so long. Since high school! It was the next logical step.”
“Forget logic. It either feels good or it doesn’t.” Nick took her glass and poured the rest of her tequila down the kitchen sink. “So what are you going to do now?”
“No clue. And you wasted some perfectly good booze.”
“If you need a place to stay for a few days or weeks, you’re welcome to crash with us.”
“I’m heartbroken, not homeless. But thanks.”
Leila burst through the door. “Sofia! Why didn’t you text me, let me know you were stopping by? I would’ve skipped yoga.” She joined Nick behind the kitchen counter and planted a kiss on his shoulder.
Nick and Leila made a ridiculously attractive couple. The brown-skinned beauty and the blue-eyed Canadian had had their share of problems, but they’d come out on the other side.
“Are you up for dessert? I made rum cake.” Leila reached into the liquor cabinet and produced a brown bottle. “With this!”
She held up the bottle of Barbancourt, Haitian rum. Sofia and Leila had roots on either side of the island of Hispaniola. Sofia’s dad was from the Dominican Republic and while growing up Sofia had visited frequently. Leila, however, had never been to Haiti. She tried to connect with her culture through food—although, not very successfully.
“Not tonight,” Sofia said. “Thanks.”
“Where’s the camera?” Leila asked Nick. “I want to show Sofia the new photos of the house.”
“Maybe now isn’t the best time,” Nick said.
Leila looked from Nick to Sofia. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Sofia perked up. “Now is a great time. I’m up for it.”
“You sure?” Nick asked.
“Sure, I’m sure!”
Sofia was as surprised by her sudden reversal as anyone. She’d come fully prepared to confide in Leila, but something Nick had said held her back.
She admires you.
That night, she avoided Nick’s questioning gaze, as she continued to do for weeks.
* * *
Shielding her loved ones from the grim reality also became a priority. The following Sunday, she joined her parents at home for dinner. Her mother had lost some weight, as her cardiologist had recommended, and her floral dress she’d worn to church that morning hung loose on her. A massive heart attack and open-heart surgery had revived her ailing Catholic faith. Anyway, her mother had better news to share.
“Your dad and I want to do something special for our thirty-fifth anniversary. And we want you to organize it.”
“Dad wants this?”
The question came from Miguel. Sofia’s older brother entered the kitchen and stood before the open refrigerator as he’d done as a teen. It was inevitable. When they were home, they reverted to their most juvenile selves.
Miguel grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “Knowing dad, he’d rather celebrate with the three b’s—beer, Buffalo wings and baseball.”
“He wants what I want,” Mom said.
“Man! You’ve got it good,” Sofia teased.
“It’s a big anniversary,” Mom said. She worked a knife through a block of queso blanco. “Plus, we’ve had a rough year.”
Sofia relived it all. Those long nights in the hospital when they weren’t sure she’d pull through had left them all depleted. Her mother was more of herself now, back at work at the shop and cooking Sunday dinners as usual, but with markedly less stamina. That was what worried Sofia, seeing her diminished that way.
Her mother looked