Page 88 of That Last Summer

“Nothing. Just sit, don’t move. Just wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Ah, but that’s the point, Alex. I’m moving now, but I won’t go far. Call if you need me; I’ll be there in a second.”

“Okay.”

Alex was left alone. In the dark. Sitting in the middle of the hallway.

He saw shadows everywhere. He sensed movements, heard noises. He felt as though something—or someone—would reach out to grab him from behind any minute. He was scared. No, he was terrified. But he endured.

At times his terror waned, then gripped him again a minute later. Sometimes it came back stronger, only to deflate soon after. Until he couldn’t take any more.

“Pris.”

She was by his side in an instant, crouching to embrace him from behind. “I’m here. Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Exactly. Nothing. And believe it or not, it’s reassured you somehow. There’s nothing like opening the closet door to prove there’s no monster inside.”

Priscila tried to get up, but he stopped her.

“Thank you. I love you... Fuck, I love you so much. Marry me.”

They were silent. Surprised—Priscila because of what she’d just heard, and Alex because he couldn’t believe those words had come from his lips. But they truly had. And most astonishing: he had no regrets. It was the only way he’d found to express how much he loved her, the only way he’d found to thank her for what she’d just done for him. This girl is the shit, and she’s mine, he thought.

“Marry me,” he asked again.

“Yes. Of course, yes! I love you, Alex,” his Queen of the Desert replied.

The months went by, and the fact that Alex had asked his neighbor to marry him became more real every day, even if not even they truly believed it. But they were convinced it wasn’t a mistake. They loved each other. What could be wrong with that? It was crazy, yes, but a good kind of crazy. They had it all planned. Now they just needed to tell their families; so far, nobody knew. Only Dark. And they wanted to share it with the rest of the world. They wanted to share it with their people.

They couldn’t have chosen a better time than Christmas. The girl’s parents had invited Alex for coffee and dessert with them after lunch, and he showed up with a huge pumpkin pie in his hands—his future mother-in-law’s favorite.

“Alex is here!” Priscila yelled as she closed the front door. It was a veiled message, a warning to the rest of the Cabanas: behave yourselves.

“Welcome, Alex! Merry Christmas!” they chorused loudly, perfectly synchronized. On purpose, just to annoy the little princess.

Alex greeted them with a “Hello!” as soon he entered the dining-room; he and Priscila sat at the table, pretending to listen to the conversations going on around them, looking into each other’s eyes and sharing knowing looks until Alex gave her the signal.

“We have something to tell you,” she said.

“Oh, God,” Adrián exclaimed.

“Why would you say that?” Priscila asked him.

“It sounded ominous.”

“It’s good news.”

“If our princess is pregnant, I’m not sure if good is exactly the word here...”

“Marcos!” they all shouted at the same time.