Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,117
forced time off.
Luis winced, reminded of his own culpability in his current predicament.
“It is what it is. I’m fine.” Enrique’s dull voice was drowned out by the grating noise as he slid a blue and white chest cooler into the far corner of the boat’s stern. Then he bent to peer at the engine nearby.
Luis recognized his brother’s game. After a tough shift, keeping busy, especially with mundane activities, helped dull the troubling images, sounds, and smells that were hard to forget.
“Did the chaplain stop by the station this morning?” Luis asked. Not that he had availed himself of those services too often over the years.
“I bugged out before he showed up. I’m good, just feel for the kid’s parents. It was senseless. Avoidable. Same as that college girl texting while driving a couple weeks ago.”
“Same as Mirna.”
Busy inspecting the bait prep area, his brother froze at Luis’s calm mention of his ex’s seldom-spoken name. Chiseled jaw stiff, lips a thinly pressed line of stark anger, his brother straightened and faced him. A small shake of Enrique’s head warned Luis that his brother edged closer to the fighting line. Luis knew exactly how that felt. He’d toed that line for years.
It drained a man. Made him lash out at the wrong people. Like the woman he loved.
One hand outstretched in entreaty, Luis stepped toward the Salvación. “I don’t want to argue. Or rehash the past.”
Enrique’s body stiffened. His fists tightened at his sides, but he remained silent.
“Mistakes were made on all sides. Including mine,” Luis admitted. He scraped a trembling hand over his head, gripping his nape as the truth finally broke free. “Mostly Mirna’s. But I should have caught the signs. Part of me knew something was off.”
Antsy and uncomfortable under his brother’s sharp scrutiny, Luis paced along the edge of the concrete seawall, his gaze drawn to the Gulf at the end of the canal. He’d spent innumerable hours out there seeking solace. Sara had taught him he had to work for it. Peace of mind and heart wouldn’t magically find him.
“I wanted to think I could save her from her messed-up life,” Luis went on. “But ultimately, I couldn’t save her from herself.”
“Or my spiteful threats that day.” Enrique’s gravelly admission drew Luis back to the boat.
Regret battled pain in Enrique’s dark eyes. “My bitterness, mostly aimed at another woman who wasn’t even there that day, pushed Mirna too far. I’ll live with that responsibility, that guilt, for the rest of my life.”
“Mirna made her own decisions. Good or bad. That’s on her.”
Enrique’s harsh scoff frightened the neighbor’s tabby sunning itself on the ledge separating the two seawalls. “And yet you easily forgave her. But not me.”
Shame soured Luis’s stomach. “That’s the problem. I didn’t, couldn’t, forgive any of us. Especially her, though I gave Mirna the words before she died. I couldn’t forget her betrayal. And it was easier to be mad at you than admit my own shortcomings. That kept me rooted in the past. Until . . . until now.”
“Until Sara.” Enrique spoke the words Luis had kept to himself. Uncomfortable bringing Sara’s beautiful spirit and tenacity into a conversation filled with regret and mistakes.
Luis nodded.
The sun moved behind a cloud, darkening the morning sky, but Luis’s tired spirit brightened when his brother’s stiff shoulders relaxed. Despite the tired lines marring what Anamaría called Enrique’s infamous GQ looks, a semblance of his cocky grin curved his lips, hinting at his roguish charm.
“I’m happy for you.” Enrique took the wide step from the boat onto the seawall with ease. The two brothers shook hands, then wound up in a one-armed hug.
“Gracias, hermano.”
“I’ll regret that day at Bahia Honda for the rest of my life,” Enrique said, remorse still haunting his voice.
“Let it go. Regret. Anger. They’re soul suckers.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Enrique’s smile twisted into a tormented grimace.
The screen door to the back porch screeched its protest as someone opened it. Seconds later, lumbering footsteps pounded down the stairs.
“But”—Enrique punched Luis playfully in the arm—“I’ll also remember today, when you showed up at Mami and Papi’s looking like a lovesick puppy.”
Luis dodged his younger brother’s second punch, then looped his arm around Enrique’s neck in a chokehold.
“You should be so lucky,” Luis grunted as they jostled, each struggling to get the upper hand in their roughhousing.
“Oye, you two going to horse around or get my boat ready so we can head out?” their father bellowed from the bottom of the steps.