Carla sighs. I see a single tear escape her right eye. “I don’t want you to leave, Poncho.”
I smile at the old nickname. She only calls me that anymore when she’s feeling sentimental.
“No, I don’t want to leave you either. But I gotta do this. I’ve been running too long. I’ve got to be brave now.”
She turns her head from me again as Gaspar bounds up to from the backyard and licks my hand.
“Will you come down here so I can give you a hug?” I ask hopefully.
“No!” she retorts.
I chuckle. “That’s fair,” I reply. “I’m gonna head off now. But I’ll keep in touch, okay?”
She doesn’t say anything.
“I love ya, Carlita. Be good to your papa.”
Then I start the walk towards the mountain road. The town glimmers faintly in the distance like a jewel in the night.
The air is warm. Balmy. My bag is light and my body feels good—or good enough for now. I’m sure I’ll be limping by the time I finish the walk. But I have to do this. I want to leave here on my own two feet.
“Cillian!”
I turn to see Carla standing high on the rooftop. The wind brushes through her hair. She looks fucking magnificent.
“I love you, too,” she announces fiercely.
I smile and shoot her a wink.
Then I walk away, feeling a little lighter.
I’m doing the right thing.
I’m going back to where I belong.