We stayed in the living room for a few minutes after the conversation. Vicente was leaning against the couch, his arm resting on the back, his body less tense than before. He looked lighter. As if something had been lifted off his shoulders.
Before I could organize everything in my head, I heard soft knocks on the open door.
— Hey… can I come in? — Val's voice came through the doorway.
Vicente looked up.
— You always could — he answered.
Val came in fully, greeting us with a quick nod and glancing around as if he already felt at home.
— Friday, right — he said, as if that explained everything. — We managed to finish all the cars that were stuck.
Vicente raised an eyebrow.
— Even your cousin's?
— Even that one — he confirmed, proud. — A miracle, I know.
Val leaned his shoulder against the wall, relaxed.
— The guys were thinking about having a barbecue tonight. Something small, just a few people. Just to relax, have a beer, laugh after the week.
He made a vague gesture toward the workshop.
— We wanted to know if we could use that space. And… — he glanced at me politely — you two can come by later too, if you want. It'll be chill.
Vicente looked at me before answering.
It wasn't a direct question. It was a silent invitation.
— We'll see — he said. — But the workshop is fine.
Val smiled, satisfied.
— Good. It'll do everyone some good to unwind.
He said goodbye with another nod and left the same way he had come, leaving the door open behind him.
— A barbecue, huh — I commented.
Vicente gave a half-smile.
— It's been a while since we had one here.
— You like them?
He thought for a moment.
— I do… when they don't turn into chaos.
I smiled.
— Then maybe it'll be nice.
He looked at me again.
— Maybe — he agreed.
It didn't take long for the house to start filling with sounds from the workshop.
First voices… then music. Loose laughter bouncing off the walls, mixed with the distant clatter of something falling to the floor. The smell of charcoal started drifting in through the open door.
— I'm going to take a shower — I said, getting up from the couch. — Then I want to go see the barbecue.
As I passed him, I added more to myself than to him:
— If I'd known there'd be a party, I would've brought something more appropriate from my dad's house.
Vicente didn't answer.
He kept flipping through TV channels, impatient as always, skipping everything without stopping on anything. That was what he did when his mind was somewhere else.
I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
While the water ran, I replayed the whole day in my head. The scare, the fear, the silence, the conversation… the weight that seemed to have lifted from his shoulders.
I smiled to myself.
My days with Vicente were never normal. And somehow, I had already stopped expecting them to be.
I finished my shower and got dressed slowly. I put on a denim skirt and a fitted, light-colored blouse with delicate hand-stitched embroidery. Soft pink and white threads. Nothing too flashy. When I walked back into the living room, I felt it before I saw it…
His gaze landed on me, warm.
It only lasted a second… he pulled himself together quickly.
— You know the barbecue is right there in the workshop, right? — he asked casually.
— Uh-huh — I said. — And I like to get dressed up.
He frowned.
— The guys won't take their eyes off you.
I shrugged.
— You'll be there.
He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.
No argument.
He turned, grabbed some clothes, and headed for the bathroom.
— I'll be ready in a minute — he said, already opening the door.
— Don't get that bandage on your arm wet! — I called out.
The door closed.
He didn't answer.
But I smiled… I knew he'd heard me.
I stayed a little longer in front of the mirror, putting on some light makeup. Nothing much. Just enough to look awake, whole.
Before I even finished, I felt him behind me. I looked at him through the mirror… he was already ready. His hair fell into his eyes, still damp, dripping at the ends. A drop of water slid slowly down his neck and disappeared under his shirt.
I looked away quickly.
Focused back on my reflection, as if eyeliner were the most important thing in the world right then.
— You're still not ready? — he grumbled, irritated like he always got when he had to wait.
I turned to him, setting the makeup down on the little table.
— We can go.
He nodded, as if he hadn't complained seconds before.
We walked together toward the workshop. The music was louder now, the voices livelier. The smell of barbecue filled the air.
— It's cold — Vicente commented, looking me up and down. — You should've worn pants.
I stared at him.
— It's the middle of summer… it's ridiculously hot.
He scoffed.
— Then at least a jacket — he insisted. — Something to cover your shoulders.
I smiled.
I knew what that was about.
It wasn't the cold he was worried about.
It was the looks.
— Relax — I said lightly. — It'll be fine.
He muttered something under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets.
He'd always been like that. Since we were kids. Vicente always got annoyed when some boy came too close to me. He never made a scene, never picked a fight. He just stayed there, taking up space, as if to say she's not alone.
I walked into the workshop beside him, feeling that old, strange comfort of being exactly where I wanted to be.
Without knowing what that night still had in store.