When Emilio said he was taking me sightseeing, he really meantsightseeing. We’ve been hot air ballooning, swimming in the most beautiful cave, and then we saw a pyramid. The place was swarming with tourists,but whenever anyone looked Emilio’s way, the crowd would part like he was Moses standing in the Red Sea.
It was weird, but also, kinda hot. Most of all, I love how attentive he is. I chose to ignore this side of Emilio for so long that I think I talked myself into believing it didn’t exist. I didn’t want him to be this perfect, so I made up in my head that he wasn’t.
Now, spending time with him alone, just the two of us, I’m pretty sure he’s damn perfect and I’ve been an absolute idiot for pushing him away. I’ve spent the day in ignorant bliss, and I don’t think I’m ready to leave it.
“What are you thinking?” Emilio asks.
“How these tacos are literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” I tell him, taking another bite of the deliciousness.
“I did tell you they were good.” He laughs.
“Sooo good. I want to eat these forever.”
“What’d you think of the city?” Emilio is watching me intently. There’s a reason he’s asking me this. I just don’t know what it is.
“It’s nice. I didn’t realize just how beautiful some of the spots were.”
“Could you see yourself living here?” he asks. And there it is. The pressure to design the future.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I really like living in Vegas. You don’t.”
“It’s not the worst place. But my family is here most of the time,” he says.
“And mine is in Vegas all the time,” I counter.
“I’m aware,” he says.
“I’m not marrying you. Just so you know, it’s not you. It’s me. I don’t ever want to be married.”
“I don’t need you to marry me to make you mine, Frankie. A piece of paper doesn’t change what we are. But, if I end up inhell because you make me live in sin forever, then I’m taking you with me.”
“Yeah, okay, because living out of wedlock is the worst sin you’ve ever committed.” I roll my eyes at how ridiculous that thought is.
“It could be.”
“I saw you stab someone almost to death when we were sixteen, Emilio. I don’t have any romantic ideals that you aren’t who you are.”
“I did,” Emilio says.
“You did what?”
“That kid, when we were sixteen, I did kill him,” he tells me.
“You did?”
“My dad sent me to the hospital to make sure I finished him properly. No one touches you and gets to live to tell the story, Frankie.”
“Your dad knows what happened?” I honestly thought no one but Emilio knew about that night.
“He knows something happened, but not what. It’s not hard to guess, though. He knew how I felt about you even back then. He also knew I’d do it without question.”
“Okay.”
What am I supposed to say to that? I mean, I guess I always suspected Emilio had something to do with the disappearance. But I really put it to the back of my mind. It wasn’t a night I ever wanted to revisit.
“Are all margaritas this good?” I ask, picking up my glass and sipping through the straw.
“No.” Emilio shakes his head.