Page 40 of Now and Forever

He blinks. “Will you come back after New Year’s Eve?” he asks, resigned.

I’m a little taken aback. How could he ask me that? Doesn’t he realize I love him like mad? I practically want to scream that of course I’ll be back, and then he takes my hands.

“I just want you to know,” he adds, “that if you come back to be with me, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t miss anything you have in Spain. I know you’re very close to your family and that keeping you from them is the worst, but I’ll take very good care of you, protect you, and, above all, love you very much. I want you to be happy with me in Munich and feel at home. As far as Flyn is concerned, give it time. I’m sure that before long, that kid will adore you as much or more than he adores me. I already told you he’s special and—”

“Eric,” I say, interrupting him and full of emotion, “I love you.”

The way he’s looking at me makes me shudder.

“I love you so much, sweetheart, that being away from you drives me insane.”

There’s a real frankness in our eyes and even more so in our words. We love each other wildly, and, just as he’s leaning over to kiss me, the door pops open and there’s Flyn.

“Uncle! Why are you taking so long?”

We quickly get ourselves together, and, when I see Eric isn’t responding, I grab a churro from the breakfast tray.

“Do you want one, Flyn?” I ask in Spanish.

The boy makes a face.

“Uncle, I’ll wait for you to play downstairs,” he says, unhappy someone’s taking even a second of his uncle’s time away from him.

Before anyone can say another word, he closes the door and leaves.

Once we’re alone, I can’t help but giggle.

“I have no doubt Flyn will be very happy I’m leaving.”

Eric doesn’t respond. He gives me a kiss on the lips, gets up, and goes. For a while, I just stare at the door, unable to understand how Sonia and Marta can leave those two by themselves on a day like this. I feel so bad for them.

At six thirty on Sunday evening, Eric, Flyn, and I arrive at the airport. I don’t have to check my baggage. I’m only taking my backpack with a few things. Saying goodbye to them, especially Eric, breaks my heart. But I have to be with my family.

In spite of the discomfort I see in his eyes, Eric tries to joke around. It’s a defense mechanism. When the moment comes to say goodbye, I lean down and kiss Flyn’s cheek.

“Young man, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, and, when I get back, I will take my revenge onMortal Kombat.”

The boy nods, and, for just a second, I think I see some warmth in his eyes, but he shakes his head, and, when he looks at me again, it’s no longer there.

He steps away and sits down to wait as Eric and I say goodbye. “Eric, I ...”

But I don’t get to finish. Eric kisses me with such devotion, and, when he pulls away, he focuses those powerful blue eyes on me. “Have a good time, sweetheart. Say hello to your family for me, and don’t forget you can come back anytime you want. I’ll be waiting for your call to pick you up at the airport. Whenever and whatever hour that is.”

I want to cry so badly, but I contain myself. I smile instead, give my love another kiss, and, after winking at Flyn, I go through security. Once I’m on the other side and have my purse and backpack, I turn around to say goodbye to them again, but Eric and the boy have left, and my heart breaks. I walk through the airport, look on the screen listing flights and gates, and, locating mine, head that way. I still have about an hour before boarding and decide to stroll through the shops to pass the time. But my heart isn’t in it because all I can do is think about Eric. My love. And about the pain I saw in his eyes when I left him, and that touches my soul.

Tired, exhausted from the sadness I feel, I sit and people watch for a while. Happy people, sad people. Families and people who are alone. I do that until my cell rings. It’s my father.

“Hi, sweetheart. Where are you, my dear?”

“At the airport. Waiting to board.”

“When do you get to Madrid?”

I look at my ticket.

“In theory, we touch down at eleven, and I’ll catch the last train to Jerez at eleven thirty.”

“Perfect! I’ll be waiting for you.” For a while, we chat about fairly banal things.

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