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“What’s going on? Where are we going?” I ask Vicente as we climb the stairs to his jet.
“It’s a surprise,” he says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes at him. Will I ever get used to these kinds of surprises?
Once the jet takes off, everyone gets comfortable and moves around the plane. Vicente and his dad ask for wine and a cheese tray to share, while Carla stays with Ava and me.
“So tell me, Camila. How did you end up in London?” she asks, turning in her seat to give me her undivided attention.
I tell her everything—from the moment I decided to practice my English to finding a nice job that allowed me to study and travel on the weekends. I know she wants to know the story about Ava’s father, but that’s not something I feel comfortable speaking about around Ava. Especially now, when she’s so happy to have Vicente in her life.
“I love that. So I take it you’ve visited most of Europe?”
“Not really. I traveled a lot in Portugal and Spain and visited a few cities in France. The farthest I’ve been is Athens.”
A lump forms in my throat as I remember the time I went to Athens and visited the places Konstantine mentioned to me. Itwas after my second trimester, once the morning sickness had eased. I’m glad I was able to go to his homeland and have some sort of closure.
“Oh, then this trip will be a treat,” Carla says excitedly, and I wonder what she means.
“We’re going to Bologna to have dinner with my son Gabo and his girlfriend, Isabella. We’ll be back in London tomorrow.”
My eyes widen at Carla’s words. This is so exciting. But why wouldn't Vicente tell me? I didn’t even pack an overnight bag for Ava or myself.
I’ll have to have a word with him in a minute, but I don’t want Carla to think I’m not interested in getting to know her. On the contrary, I hope we can become good friends over time.
“Carla, how does it feel to have adult kids? I can’t even begin to imagine my sweet Ava all grown up,” I say, my voice softening.
Every time I talk about my baby, tenderness and love spreads through me.
Carla’s face transforms as her thoughts go somewhere else, smiling at a memory playing in her head.
“Oh, dear. You’ll never be ready to see them grow and become the adults you always hoped they would be.”
I smile at her response, thinking about all over Ava’s milestones.
“In your eyes, they’ll always be the little kids who ran around the house, making messes and pulling pranks on their siblings while you tried your hardest not to laugh,” she says warmly.
I chuckle, easily picturing Vicente and Gabo pulling pranks on their little sister, Karina.
“And I’m so happy little Ava will get to grow up in the hacienda, just like Vicente did. It’s a wonderful place to raise happy, healthy children.”
I catch the subtle jab and smile at her knowingly.I hear you loud and clear, Carla. You want more grandkids.
“Thank you for being so welcoming, Carla. You don’t know how much this means to me,” I say, my voice thick with emotion as tears threaten to spill. These past couple of weeks have been so overwhelming.
“Oh, darling. It’s me who has to thank you.”
I frown, confused, but she gives my hand a gentle squeeze, her expression soft with understanding.
“I thought my son was never going to find love. The older he got, the more consumed by his job he became. That’s why my husband told him he needed to get married if he wanted to inherit the vineyard. It was our last attempt to break his fixation on work and show him there’s a life waiting for him beyond his office walls.”
What? This was all a ruse?
“I’m sorry, Carla, but I don’t follow,” I say, completely baffled.
It’s her turn to chuckle. “Dear, we would have never enforced the marriage rule for Vicente to get the vineyard. We just wanted to give him a push in the right direction.”
I know Carla is confirming what I had initially heard, but wow. This is insane.