Page 54 of Hearts on Ice
“Because he makes me want things I’m not supposed to want,” I said, the truth rough in my throat.
My brother leaned closer. “Complicated doesn’t mean wrong, hermano. It just means real.” He paused for a heartbeat. “Does he treat you right? I don’t mean fancy words. I mean respect. Makes you feel safe?”
“He does,” I said, surprising myself with how certain I sounded. “He’s careful. Not like walking-on-eggshells careful. He just… pays attention. Doesn’t talk down to people. Doesn’t use what he knows to hurt anyone.”
Manu rubbed a hand over his jaw. “You know what’s funny? When we were kids, you used to follow me everywhere. Even when I got in trouble.”
“Yeah,” I said, half-laughing. “You were the trouble.”
He grinned. “Maybe. But you never ran. Even when everyone else did.” His voice softened. “You’ve always been loyal like that. Too loyal, sometimes.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Manu leaned back, his chair creaking. “That maybe that’s what matters. You don’t have to throw your life away trying to pay for mine.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It means,” he said, leaning closer to the camera, “you’ve been carrying my screwups for years,” he said, voice low. “Sending money, checking on us, living like you owe me something. I messed up, Miguelito. Not you. You don’t have to stay lonely to make up for me.”
The words hit harder than I expected. “I’m not lonely.”
He gave me a look that said,sí, you are.
“I just don’t want to break something good,” I said. “If I say the wrong thing, if I do the wrong thing… if Ifeelthe wrong thing, it could blow up everything I’ve worked for.”
Manu’s gaze softened. “Then be smart, not silent.”
“Smart doesn’t make it easier.”
He smiled faintly. “No. But silence makes it worse. Stop wrestling it, hermano. Just let it be.”
Before I could answer, a blur of movement crossed the screen. Elena climbed into his lap, a sketchbook clutched to her chest.
“¡Tío Miguel!” she squealed. “Mira!”Look.She flipped the page to show me a crayon drawing—bright buildings with wings and a stick figure in pads stopping a giant puck.
“Eso soy yo?” I asked.That’s me?
“Sí! Papá says you stop balls with your belly like a superhero.”
“Puck, baby,” I corrected gently, laughing. “It’s called a puck.”
She giggled. “You’re funny.”
“Funny-looking,” Manu said. “Needs more rice if he’s going to stop St. Louis.”
Carmen appeared behind them, setting a glass of pale orange-colored juice in front of him. “For the heat,” she said. “And for luck. Hi again, Miguel. You look good.”
“Gracias,” I said, smiling. “Passion fruit juice?”
“Of course. He lives on it,” she teased, and kissed the top of Manu’s head before disappearing again toward the kitchen.
Elena leaned closer. “Tío, are you winning tonight?”
“I hope so,” I said. “If the feed freezes when you’re watching, it’s not because I let in five goals, okay?”
She gasped dramatically. “Five! Nooo.”
Manu laughed so hard the camera shook. “I’ll make sure she cheers for every save,” he said.
