“Wow. I’m so happy for your mom—for all of you.”
Another wry smile. “I’m glad she was able to realize her dream, and because of that, my siblings have work and my brother can afford to attend any university he wishes,” he said.
“That should be cause for celebration, but you look disheartened. Aren’t you happy for them?”
“Oh absolutely! It’s just...it all came at a cost, that’s all.”
“What cost?” Carmen asked. She’d stopped eating, completely absorbed in learning about his family and what had happened since she and he split.
He gazed into her eyes. “Personal stuff. I’ll tell you one day.”
She saw sadness in his eyes, and though she wanted to know more, she didn’t push. He’d give her the details when he was ready.
5
Carlos spooned chunks of meat, onion, and tomato next to the rice on each of their plates. Though lomo saltado was usually served with French fries or potatoes, he knew Carmen preferred the dish without them, so he hadn’t prepared any.
He poured red wine in her glass, but she halted him with her hand. “That’s enough.”
“You don’t like the Bordeaux?” He thought it went well with the sirloin he’d used to make the dish.
“It’s delicious, but you know I get sleepy when I drink,” she reminded him.
“Oh, that’s right.” He’d forgotten, though he liked the idea of her getting drowsy and spending the night curled up against him like she used to.
“This is so good, though,” Carmen said.
They ate in silence for a bit as they enjoyed the meal. After a few minutes, she ran a hand down her thighs and cleared her throat. “So, it sounds like your mother’s business is thriving.”
He smiled. He could sit in silence for hours, maybe because he’d grown up in cramped spaces that he had shared with four other siblings, and peace and quiet had been a luxury. Meanwhile, she’d grown up in a large home, her bedroom suite almost as big as his family’s entire apartment, so she always needed to fill quiet moments because she’d been alone so much.
Carlos nodded. “I’ve never seen her happier. My brothers and sisters are doing well, too. Jesús graduated from high school this year.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness, little Jesús?” Her tinkling laugh filled the air.
Carlos was the second of five, and Jesús was the youngest. “Little Jesús isn’t so little anymore. He’s as tall as I am and has been lifting weights. You probably wouldn’t recognize him if you saw him. He’s big and muscular now.”
“So I take it you don’t put him in head locks anymore?” Carmen asked, amusement filling her eyes.
“No way,” Carlos said with vehemence.
They both had a good laugh, and then he caught her up on the rest of his siblings.
“Sounds like everyone’s doing well,” Carmen commented.
Carlos studied his plate, knowing it was polite to ask about her family, too, but he didn’t want to because of his history with them. With her father, specifically, but he was curious about the twins, her younger siblings.
Suck it up, he told himself. “And how is your family?”
“Do you really want to know?” she asked softly.
“I do. Especially about your brother and sister.”
The twins were nine years younger because her parents had taken a break from having children after she was born so they could concentrate on building the Fit Body Gyms business. Once they were satisfied with their progress, they wanted to have two more children and were lucky enough to have two at the same time.
“So… Charlie has a girlfriend now, a really sweet girl he met in the chess club at school. Daniela is showing lots of interest in the arts. She’s really into theater and is amazing on the piano, so of course my parents are fostering those talents.”
“Of course. And what about you?”
“Nothing special.” Carmen shrugged with one shoulder.
“But you’re here on business for your father, so ‘nothing special’ doesn’t seem like the right answer. You’re certainly more involved in the company than you used to be.”
She swallowed, and he tracked the movement along her neck.
She lifted the glass of wine from the table and stared down into it. “If you’re going to say something to make me feel bad about working for the business, I don’t want to hear it.”
Carlos willed her downcast eyes to lift to his. “That wasn’t my intention. Actually, I’m happy for you.”
Her gaze met his. “Happy for me? Why? What does that even mean, Carlos?”
“It means this is where you should have been, and—”
“And you breaking up with me allowed me to reach for my destiny and my full potential?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Even in the dim light, he couldn’t miss the flash of annoyance in her dark eyes.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He rubbed a thumb along the stem of his glass and studied the ruby-red liquid for a while as he tried to find the right words. “We both know you would not have worked in your father’s company if we’d remained together. You’re happy, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “I am,” she said quietly.
Deep down, he had hoped she’d give a different answer. If she’d given a different answer, that could have been the opening for him to admit he’d made a mistake and regretted leaving her in Toronto. Seeing her flourish without him meant he’d done the right thing, but it hurt because it meant she was better off without him in her life, and he’d selfishly hoped that wasn’t true. A punch to the gut would have been less painful.
Carlos cut into his meat and suddenly wished he hadn’t invited her over for dinner.
“But I could have been happier,” Carmen said in a low voice—so low, he barely heard her and wasn’t sure he’d heard what he thought she said.
They stared at each other.
“I could have been happier, too,” he admitted.
“So you regret leaving me?” He heard the tremble of hesitancy in her voice. Like him, she asked a question but was afraid to hear the answer.
He had so many regrets. “I’ve regretted leaving every day for the past three years.”
For a split second, her face crumbled, but she fought back the surge of tears. She set down her silverware and took a tremulous breath. “Why did you leave, and why didn’t you take me with you?”
“I told you why I left, Carmen. What could I have possibly offered you? Your father was right.”
“No, he wasn’t,” she said in a firm voice.
Looking deeply into her eyes, Carlos was determined to make her understand. “He was. You can’t imagine the kind of life you would have lived with me. I did things I’m not proud of to survive. I stole, Carmen. I stole gas for my car, I stole canned goods when I was hungry, I dined and dashed.” His cheeks flushed with the shame and guilt of his behavior. “Being poor isn’t noble or romantic. It’s hard and stressful. You wouldn’t have enjoyed that life with me. Even when my father was alive, we didn’t have much. I grew up in poverty, and I’m very clear about its limitations. Then I became a struggling artist, with no real future, and you were—are—a woman with her whole future ahead of her, including a successful business enterprise. If you didn’t want to work again, you wouldn’t have to.”