Page 116 of That Last Summer

September 2012

The summer was over, and its end took away... too much.

Alex returned to his rented apartment in Madrid and had to live there during the work week—his job demanded that—but he didn’t let a single weekend go by without traveling back to town to be with his wife.

They didn’t make too much drama about the mandatory distance; they were used to it. They’d spent years in such circumstances, it wasn’t new for either of them. There was one new factor, though. Alex was an adult with a successful professional career and thousands of fans—blondes, brunettes, each one prettier than the last—and Priscila saw herself as a kid, barely out of school. It had been on her mind for some time. Every time Alex answered her calls with all those party noises in the background, something throbbed in her chest.

Jealousy.

It had started with the redhead, and it was unstoppable now.

Since she still didn’t have a job, Alex suggested she could live with him in Madrid, but Priscila refused. She already had her hands full figuring out what to do with her life. It was important to her—she wanted to feel like a grown-up. She didn’t know whether to start looking for work right away, or—since she really loved to study—to specialize first. It was a time to think about her future—prepare her résumé, analyze the job market, consider the possibilities. She didn’t want any distractions, and she knew being in the capital with Alex would be exactly that: between getting to know the city, going out with her husband, and accompanying him to training—she loved to watch him swim—she wouldn’t make any progress on her market research. So, for the time being, she stayed in town.

On the last weekend in September, Alex and Priscila woke up late. Honestly, they’d barely slept—that’s how reunions go—but still, it was almost noon and that was something Alex hadn’t anticipated. It disrupted his whole plan. The mower he had bought online had just arrived and he wanted to finally give the garden a good going over. The shrubs and dead bushes were so tall they even covered the living room windows, blocking the view.

Priscila had planned to meet her parents for lunch; the whole family would be there. When she realized how late they were, she hurried Alex along while she gathered up the mandalas she’d left scattered on the living room table the previous afternoon. Priscila loved coloring mandalas. It calmed her. And it was fun. She’d spent so many hours coloring with Adrián that it’d become a part of her life. Now, her new home was full of mandalas. They were everywhere: the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, the porch. She spent hours sitting on the porch—her favorite place—in the old rocking chair with her knees up, the mandalas resting on them.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “I can’t go with you.”

“What? Why?”

“I have something to do.”

Specifically, that something was fixing up the garden, once and for all. He wanted to set up a special space for Priscila and her mandalas—nothing too elaborate, just a table and a couple of benches on the porch. That way Pris wouldn’t damage her back, always coloring on the floor or in the rocking chair. He had everything all ready, all he needed was for her to leave for a few hours.

“You can do it later. Or tomorrow.”

“No, I can’t. But go and have fun, I’ll be here when you come home.”

“Alex!”

“What?”

“Are you seriously not coming? It’d be quick, I promise, I won’t stay long.”

“Seriously. It’s your family—you go.” Maybe that was a bit rude, but he was terrible at these things.

“I know it’s my family, but they care about you too.”

Yeah, against all odds.

“Pris, don’t be a pain in the ass, okay? Go and have lunch with your parents and your brothers and leave me in peace.”

Priscila stared at him.

“Right. As you wish. Maybe I’ll even sleep over there; we’ll see.”

Alex followed her into the garden.

“Pris!”

“See you tomorrow.”

She got on her bike.

“You said maybe.”

“Well, now I’m sure. I’ll stay at my parents’. See you tomorrow!”