Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Epilogue Two Mireya

5 years later

Adrian is chasing PJ down the hill to the cemetery.

“Welo! Welo!” PJ says and runs straight to Patricio.

Patricio picks him up and hugs him. We came here to clean up Vicente’s grave before Dia de Los Muertos. Adrian kisses his mom and shakes Patricio’s hand when we reach them.

“Adrian, you made her walk all this way. Look at her feet!” Soledad says and reaches in for a tight hug.

I look down at my swollen feet. Our baby girl is due any day now. Adrian smirks at me.

“That’s her punishment. This is what happens when she can’t keep her hands off me.” I roll my eyes. Patricio has already taken off down the hill with PJ, chasing him as he laughs. It warms my heart. Patricio and Adrian had a rough start–shit, we all did–but Patricio has proven himself time and time again. Adrian and I had made a bet that if the baby was a girl, I would pick the first name and him the middle, but if it was a boy, he could pick the first name. When we found out we were having a boy, I already knew I was going to put Joaquin as the middle name for my father.

Adrian had gone back and forth between names… most of them were horrible. Al Pachino or Vito Corleone I immediately shot down. When I went into labor, I couldn’t get ahold of Adrian, and Patricio was there to take me to the hospital. He was always there. Looking back from the beginning, his love for Soledad outshone anything else he ever cared about. He gave us a home, he found Soledad, and he brought me to Adrian. I know that’s why Adrian chose Patricio as our son’s first name. Even if he does get jealous that PJ wants to stay at Welo’s house every weekend and tells everyone at preschool that Patricio is in the Avengers.

Adrian runs and scoops PJ up and moves him around like an airplane. He slows down to wait for me, and PJ takes right back off to catch Patricio and Soledad. Watching Adrian as a husband and father makes me wish I had more time with my dad.

The role of a father or grandfather is an important role. Whether it be bound by blood or not. I often think of the brief time I got to spend with mine and wonder if he would be proud of me. If he saw me where I was, would he agree with my life choices? I’m not always sure I am, to be honest, but life holds so many surprises. Different paths and obstacles of sacrifice and gain. Through it all, I look back and realize as long as I ended up here with Adrian and my children, I am happy.

I catch up to him and he reaches for my hand.

“Diosa, you sure you don’t want to go home? We can clean this up.”

“No. I want to be here. I loved Don Vicente as much as you did.” He nods and grabs my hand. Losing Don Vicente was one of the hardest days of our married lives. I held him that night as he held back the tears. I held his hand through the difficult funeral. While nothing was eternal, I knew the name and legacy Don Vicente left behind for his grandchildren would live on.

We both watch as PJ holds tight to Patricio, who holds him in his left arm while holding Soledad’s hand in his right.

I look at Adrian, remembering a time I was afraid of him coming home, and now, he is my home. As if he can read my thoughts, his thumb rubs over my bracelets, and then he brings them to his lips. Many of them are rare and of value, but none are as special as the first one he gave me.

A gentle kiss and a soft whisper, “I love you.”