Chapter 7 - WHAT MARISOL WANTED
Marisol finished her first year of nursing school exhausted.
She worked part-time.
Studied at night.
Raised Valentina.
Allowed Diego to parent.
All of it together nearly broke her.
One evening, Diego found her asleep at the kitchen table over anatomy notes.
He covered her with a blanket.
Did not wake her.
Valentina sat beside him coloring.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Do you love Mama?”
Diego looked at her.
Children should be illegal at questions.
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you marry?”
He nearly choked.
“Because love is not the only thing marriage needs.”
Valentina frowned.
“What else?”
“Trust.”
“Do you have trust?”
“Some.”
“Then get more.”
Simple.
Infuriating.
Weeks later, Diego asked Marisol to dinner.
Not fancy.
The taco stand where they used to eat.
Still open.
Same plastic stools.
She laughed when she saw it.
“You own restaurants.”
“This one is better.”
“You said that four years ago.”
“I was right.”
They ate.
Talked.
Then Diego said:
“I don’t want our old relationship back.”
Marisol stopped.
“Good.”
He smiled.
“I want whatever two people who know better can build now.”
She looked at him.
“That's suspiciously healthy.”
“I have a therapist.”
She nearly dropped her taco.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“Mostly.”
They laughed.
Then he became serious.
“I loved you then.”
“I know.”
“I was also proud.”
“Yes.”
“I assumed if you disappeared, you had chosen.”
“Yes.”
“I should have looked.”
Marisol nodded.
“I should have questioned the letter more.”
“You were pregnant and alone.”
“I was still responsible for my choices.”
That was why they worked now.
Neither needed the other to carry all the blame.
They began dating.
Slowly.
Valentina was not told first.
She discovered.
Of course.
She caught them holding hands.
“Finally.”
Marisol stared.
“Who taught you that word?”
“Camila.”
The housekeeper denied everything.
Diego proposed a year later.
No press.
No mansion staircase.
No diamond the size of Valentina’s fist.
They were sitting in a hospital cafeteria after Marisol’s clinical shift.
She was wearing scrubs.
He looked ridiculous in a suit beside vending machines.
“Marisol Reyes.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“If you do this here—”
“I met you when you were building a future.”
He continued.
“Then my family helped interrupt it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I don't want to give you another future.”
Good.
“I want to ask whether I can be part of the one you're building.”
Better.
He opened a simple ring.
“Will you marry me?”
She cried.
Then:
“Yes.”
A nurse at the next table applauded.
Marisol buried her face.
“Perfect.”
Diego smiled.
May you like
“I liked it.”
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