Killing For Ace Hernandez ✓

20 | You

I couldn’t stop the laughter leaving my mouth as we exit the bar, my heels were off and drink spilt all over my dress. A long story but he was right, I had an amazing time. We both walk towards the beach.

It was the sort of yellow that glows from a homely hearth, the sort that warms you just to see it, even before the steady flame can bring a glow to your skin. The sun hangs so impossibly in the smoky sky- a perfect circle without strings or supports.

The sun set in the sky as fresh colours brushed upon an artist's canvas, as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art - one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul.

 The orange gold stretches far and wide, the colour of fire hearths and tangerines. It is but the reflection of the dawn, the promise of the rising sun that comes after the velvety night has had its say and the land has rested once more.   

The wind had become the orchestral conductor of the sea, sending waves into their crescendos' all through the ballad that was the night. “No, I did not say that!”

“Oh, come on, we all know you did.”

 Through squinting eyes, I drank in the sight of the waves, the foam reflecting the garish lights of the casinos and bars. The roaring and pounding obliterated all other sounds and my mind was awash with exhilaration.  

“I did not tell the Bartender to suck his own drink.” When these boats of nature's tide, these free sailing sun-kissed branches, come to rest upon either pebbles or golden sands, they sit as kings adoring the seawater view.

“You did, just not the words you’re saying.” The beach stretched out alongside the water, upon this primrose sand, the hue as gentle on the eye as a vintage photograph, there is a steady warmth from the grains. Already the stars glow as if they have kept a pocket of the daytime to shine all through the night sky. The sand is the gentlest hue of gold, almost earthen and muted, the humble star of the scene.

I throw my heels on the ground, the ocean breeze whispers like a lover, placing salty kisses on my cheek and tousling my long auburn hair.

On days like this it playfully fillies the sails of the harbour boats, flutters their flags and pushes along the clouds. this breeze is just a mere hint of its power, that when roused it can toss whole ships like toys to smash on the rocks.

The ocean breeze is enough to blow errant strands of hair back toward the road behind, but not sufficient to bring the keen bite of winter wind.

“I had a really good time.” I admit.

The boats were scattered over the harbour like fall leaves in a pond. The colours were beautiful, random, bringing forth echoing memories from her childhood spent on the shore. The boats bobbed on the waves, turning a little as they did in their chaotic dance.

Every boat on the ocean was as bright as the riot of new flowers adorning the hillside. They were so pretty that when the fleet set out to the rising sun, we watched every bit as bewitched as a groom at the altar.

The beach was a blaze of parasols, hot colours to match the burning sand underfoot. Against the percussion of the waves was the laughter, coming in bursts and rolling like the ocean.

“I know, so did I.” He pushes a strand of my hair behind my ears, looking down at me. “Arabella, I have something to tell you.”

“W-What is it?”

“I’ve fallen for you, these past five years, when I’m with you everything feels right. I know the timing is wrong but it feels so right.” My mind went to places, I glance down at his lips before meeting his eyes. Then, without a second thought, he presses his lips against my own. My eyes widen, but gradually they close. I haven’t kissed anyone since Ace. And though it felt wrong, it felt right in the moment we were in.

“I can’t..” I whisper pushing away. He permissions his head stepping back.

“I didn’t mean to overstep my limits.”

“No, you didn’t, Rodrigues I-I am still in love with Ace…” I confess, he nods his head once again, and I knew I hurt him. It has been five fudging years! But it would be unfair to the both of us to go through something one of us isn’t ready for.

“Right, of course. We should get going.” He replies, “Charlie usually wakes up at this time.”

“She wakes up all the time, she needs attention even in her sleep.” I tried to laugh it off but it didn’t work like usual.  Arriving at the front door, I push my key inside and see an awoken Abuela watching her telenovelas as she sews Charlie another dress. “You’re back! How was the day?”

“It was amazing, I had a lot of fun, how’s Charlie and Rose?”

“Sleeping except for the little one, that monster wouldn’t go back to bed.”

“Mummy!” I hear her, I chuckle shaking my head as she dives into my arms. “Uncle Roddy, look I coloured the wall.”

“Charlie!” We both yell.

.

.

.

I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep because every time I did I saw him. All I wanted was a nap before Rose cam back from school but Charlie wanted Ice-cream so instead, I got up, got changed because I needed to have a bit of exercise done anyways.

Arriving at the ice cream parlour, Charlie asks to be picked up to see the flavours. “Charlie, Charlie, ¿qué puedo ofrecerte princesa?” Marcus says, Charlie faces me as if asking what he was saying. I have only spoken English to her.

“He is asking what you want?”

“I want chocolo!” She giggles, Marcus laughs at her attempt of saying chocolate.

"Una cucharada, por favor, y puedo darme un chicle, por favor.” He nods his head, doing weird tricks with Charlie before finally handing her the ice cream cone. I take two cups, just in case it melts and some tissues, even though I have wipes in the back.

[One scoop please, and can I have a bubble-gum please.]

“Uncle Rod!” Charlie screams, as she runs of, I grab the ice cream and as I take out my purse to pay, a five euro note. I sigh turning my head to Rodrigues who kiss my forehead as a hello.

“Rodrigues, now I have to-”

“Charlie, tell mummy to shush.”

“Shush!” I nudge his shoulders as I roll the stroller whilst licking my ice cream.

“So, couldn’t sleep?”

“Nope, I had nightmares about Charlie eating my favourite crisps.”

“She probably did.” I let out a soft laugh, as we endure walking towards a busy road. Charlie ended up in her stroller that is being pushed by Rodrigues whilst I licked the daylights out of the ice cream. I can see why Charlie always wants one.

I look up. And my eyes widen as they lock on his figure.

There he stood. Alive. I drop my ice cream on the ground, catching the attention of other. Then, his eyes met my own. His eyes. There is a kind of blue that is a celebration of soft confidence, of a deep resolve to show truth.

It is the blue of the ocean waves and the sky in any season. For the kind of strength that wins, as with the blue, is flexible depending on the weather. No matter what happens it is there, reliable and strong.

“Arabella?”

He is alive. I blink, over and over again to see if what I’m seeing is right. He stood, wearing a black dress shirt that is unbuttoned revealing those swirls of tattoos. His beard is shaven, his eyebrows are thicker. He is taller, yet has more of a dad bod. Am?

Then my body gives up on me, I faint. “Arabella!”