Vegas Knot (✔️) | Love Travels #1

Twenty

"You have me completely figured out," he chuckles, eyes still firmly on the sky. "Yes, let's go. You lead the way."

"I lead the way?" I have no idea where I'm going and no sense of direction. Plus, I've already fallen at least twice today and it's dark here.

"I trust you," he says, following behind me as I slowly venture to the left and away from the small group who are trying to take pictures.

The ground is uneven beneath me so we have to go slowly, stopping every once in a while to check the path and make sure we aren't venturing where we shouldn't go.

Finally, almost fifteen minutes later, we find a good vantage point to see the sky that is flat enough for us to sit and share our snack.

"Do you get skies like this where you're from?" I ask Enrique. "I live in the city. I always thought I could see the stars but now—"

"We get stars where I'm from," he answers. "But nothing like this."

"Are you going to take a picture?" A small breeze blows over me, cooling my skin.

"Maybe later. Right now I'd just like to enjoy it with you, if you don't mind." He reaches out and rests his hand on my knee, and I cover it with my own, leaning my head to rest on his shoulder. His heart beats beneath my cheek.

"You know," I whisper into the cover of darkness, "sometimes I wonder if my parents ever had any moments like this. They always seemed solid, you know? Always discussing things with each other and working together on our stuff for school and activities. But I never saw them do anything like this. And I wonder now what was happening behind the scenes. Was it all arguments and anger, or were there some moments like this, too? Sometimes I wonder if they got any magic."

"Have you asked them?" Enrique's voice is warm and soft, carried off by the cooling breeze of evening as his fingers brush against my curls.

"I have." I nod, though no one can see. "My mother always tells me it's not important and that my father is a good man who loves us kids. I don't think he isn't. He's always been there for us just as much as she was. Sometimes more. But—"

I can feel the tears stinging the corner of my eyes, remembering the day they sat us down to tell us we were moving away and Dad wasn't coming with us. "I've always wondered. If he was such a good man, how was it they couldn't make it work?"

"Do you feel like she's lying to you to protect you?" His breath brushes across my ear.

I shrug. "Maybe. But I mostly feel like she doesn't want to discuss the intricacies of what happened with her daughter. I keep telling her I'm a grown adult now but she just doesn't want to involve me. It's a big cultural thing for her. You don't discuss your marriage with your children. But—"

"How else are we supposed to learn?" he finishes my thought. "I've had the same discussion with my mother. She always says I will learn by doing. I don't think she understands how much of my childhood is wrapped up in those memories. How hard it is to get past. How—"

"Impossible it is to forget?" I finish. "I feel like she doesn't want to acknowledge what happened. And I worry. I worry that I might make the same mistake. How did such a smart, confident, independent woman end up in a marriage that didn't work? How do two people who are both amazing not work out? I have no answers. Only questions."

The silence stretches out before us, touching the starry sky and expanding into a comfortable bubble containing nothing but us. Enrique and Bianca.

Enrique's thumb draws circles on the back of my hand as the stars glisten around us. "Do you worry about that?" Enrique asks after some time. "Do you worry you might do that yourself?"

"Pick someone who turns out to be not for me?" Deep breath. "Yeah, I guess I do. I really want to be sure, you know? I want to make sure the guy I'm going to be with is going to stick. But how can anyone be sure?"

He turns his head to face me, so his face is right next to my cheek. "Sometimes we can't be sure, Bianca. Sometimes we just do the best we can with what we're given. Sometimes we end up married to an amazing girl whose eyes sparkle under the starlight. And whose capabilities far exceed our own."

"My eyes do not sparkle," I laugh.

"Prove it." His hand leaves mine and brushes on my cheek with the back of his hand. "I don't think I've ever met anyone more beautiful. And you married me. Some part of your intricate self chose me and I will forever be grateful for that chance."

"Chance?" My heart races in my chest as I stare up into the sky, worried what might happen if I turn to meet his eyes.

"Somehow, despite it all, you didn't just go get this annulled. You gave me a chance. You gave me time. I didn't know how to ask you for it and you just showed up and dropped it in my lap. I..." he draws a wavering breath. "Bianca, may I kiss you?"

The lump in my throat stops me from speaking, so I just nod. But in the darkness he can't see me. His hand gently presses into my hair, asking again, and I turn toward him, pressing my lips to his.

I have never been kissed like this. Tender and giving while somehow greedy for more. My hands move without thinking, pulling his shoulder closer to me and holding him where he can't back away. For a moment, I forget where I am, heart beating through me and tying me to him as his lips grant the answers to questions I didn't know I'd asked.

When we finally break apart, gasping for breath, we only allow as much space between us as is required to lay down on the rock below us. The whole world is darkness and stars, the universe sparkling above us.

Endless opportunities.

Places we've never explored.

Just like our marriage, it is so full of potential and so frighteningly unknown.