I don’t respond. Or move.
My heart is lodged in my throat.
I’m not even sure if it’s beating.
All I can think about is the fact that he’s here.
My only saving grace is the fact that he thinks I’m with Marco.
The good son.
“Ruby?” Marco asks.
I snap out of it.
Do something.
I look at Marco and smile. “Sorry. I was daydreaming.”
“Are you sure? Looks like you were daynightmaring.”
I force myself to giggle. “That’s not even a word, you silly thing.” I go over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and kissing him on the cheek. “I missed you. Sorry I’ve been so busy.”
Marco goes from shocked to grinning in seconds and, fuck, I feel so bad that I’m doing this. I wish I could tell him with just my eyes, but we don’t have that kind of connection.
All I know is that as long as Tomás thinks I’m with Marco, he has no reason to hate me. Right? I mean who fucking knows at this point. It’s been seven years since that fateful day at the match and yet he feels as dangerous as ever.
The things he knows…
“So Ruby,” Tomás says, saying my name with strange deliberation. “It’s very interesting to see you again.”
“Small world,” I tell him brightly.
He holds my eyes for a moment. A cunning smile. “It is a small world, isn’t it? Who would have thought that all these years later, you’d end up back with Marco.”
“The funny thing is, Papá, that she’s actually a Barcelona fan,” Marco points out.
“Is that so?” he asks. “What does Luciano think about all of this?”
I gulp. “About what?”
“About you being here.”
Marco laughs as he hands me a glass of wine. “Luciano barely remembers her.”
“Is that so?” His voice is like ice.
“You know how it is,” Marco goes on. “He’s forever the bachelor.”
“Such a shame, isn’t it Ruby?” Tomás asks me.
I attempt to shrug. “I don’t know, I haven’t really seen him.”
“No?”
“Hey, can we stop talking about Luciano for a moment?” Marco says jokingly. “You’ve got the real winner here.” He pulls me closer to me, kissing me on the lips, but my eyes go to Tomás, who is watching us.
Watching me.
“Excuse me,” Tomás says, getting up. “I’m going to use the washroom.”
I pull apart from Marco and watch him as he goes.
“Hey, sorry if it’s weird that my father is here,” Marco says, once the door to the washroom closes. “He’s at a hotel around the corner, we were just discussing some business ideas. He’s not staying long.”
“Oh.” My chest tightens. “So that’s why he’s here.”
“Yes, he comes to Madrid every now and then to see me and Luciano.”
Luciano never told me he was here, I want to say. But of course I don’t.
I need to get out of here.
I make a face and Marco frowns. “What is it?”
“I just, uh, I have to go and run to get something.”
“What? Why? What something?”
Think fast.
“Women problems. Period stuff. Lots of blood, very messy.”
Marco scrunches up his nose like I thought he would. “Well, okay. Come back. I’ll try and get rid of my father and we can really catch up.”
I nod. But I know I won’t be back.
I put down my wine and go out the door, trying to play it cool and walk slowly. It isn’t until I’m outside his apartment that I start running. I text Luciano as I go.
I’m coming back.
I don’t see a text back, but it doesn’t matter, I’m close to his apartment.
I get there and buzz his number but there is no answer.
I buzz again and again.
I take out my phone just as I hear the intercom crackle. “Hola?”
I jam my finger on the button to talk. “It’s me. Let me in.”
The door buzzes and I go inside. Up the elevator to the sixth floor, the penthouse.
I go down the hall, get to his door. It’s unlocked and I step inside.
“Ruby?” Luciano calls out, appearing from around the corner, wet, with a towel around his waist. “What happened?”
I quickly close the door and lock it behind me, then run right over to Luciano, throwing my arms around him.
So afraid, I’m so fucking afraid.
“Ruby girl,” he says softly, holding me. “I’m getting you all wet. Not in a good way.”
He pulls back and holds my shoulders, frowning, eyes roaming my face. “It went that bad, huh?”
I shake my head, trying to catch my breath. “No. No I didn’t tell him, I didn’t tell him.”
“Okay…”
“Luciano. You never told me your father was in Madrid.”
His face goes white. Mouth parts.
“You saw him?” he cries out softly.
I nod. “Yes. He was at Marco’s.”
“Oh, shit,” he says, his hands going up into his hair. He turns away from me. “Oh shit, oh shit.”
“You had to have known.”
“I did know,” he says, looking to me, his hands falling from his head. He grabs my arms, his eyes growing wild as he stares at me. “Ruby girl, I knew and I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t think you’d see him, I didn’t think that he would be with Marco if you were going over. I’m so sorry I…I didn’t think.”
“Well, he was there. At least he thinks I’m with Marco now and not you.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me over to the couch, sitting down and pulling me beside him. He rests his elbows on his thighs, pushing his thumbs into his forehead. He’s trying to process.
I’m trying to think too. This has made everything that much harder.
“Well,” I say after a moment. “You were eventually planning on telling your stepfather, weren’t you?”
He licks his lips, nodding. “Yes.”
“So, what’s the difference if you tell him now?”
His eyes slide to mine. “The difference is I need to figure out how much he’s changed. What he did to you was seven years ago. He’s so different with me now. Back then, he hated me so much and now…well, I can’t say he loves me, but maybe he’s just indifferent enough not to care
