“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” After that short, stilted exchange, they stared at each other long enough for the residual coolness from the water to be replaced by the heat from Miguel’s hands. Miguel wanted to fling himself into Hector’s arms and say screw it, forget this apartment, I want to go back to your place. But he held himself back. He was going to do this. It was time for Just Miguel to happen.
Hector broke their eye contact first. He crossed back to the front of the apartment where Lupita and Maria were going through boxes. “Is there anything else heavy that needs to be moved?”
Lupita rose, dusting off her hands. “No, that’s it. Thank you, mi rey.” She gave her son a kiss on the cheek.
Hector nodded at Claudia then looked over at Miguel. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, Hector. For everything.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Not with their moms there not even trying to hide the fact that they were watching the two of them. Hector nodded and left. Once he was gone, Miguel gazed at the closed door, wondering yet again if he’d done the right thing.
“Are you okay, Miguel?”
He jumped slightly and turned to look down at his mom. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Miguel shook his head and put a smile on his face. “I made a pitcher of margaritas. Let’s have some before we really start unpacking.” Both women agreed and followed him over to the kitchen area. He turned on the music on his phone and set it on the counter while he got out the pitcher. Someone knocked at the door and Lupita went to answer it.
She came back with Leon, who somehow managed to look like a damn model even though he was dressed in scruffy work clothes. A gift bag dangled from one hand, and he held a travel cup in the other.
“Fifteen minutes late with Starbucks, I see,” Miguel teased.
“Shut up. This is water.”
“Good. Because we’re having margaritas while we unpack.”
“Oooh, that’s the kind of moving party I like!”
Everyone laughed, and Miguel poured Leon a drink. Thankful for the support he had today, Miguel put his worries about Hector out of his mind.
Several hours and three pitchers of margaritas later, Miguel was all moved in. His bathroom was set up with a shower curtain and clean towels. He currently only had one set of sheets, but they were laundered and on his made-up bed. The used dresser he’d purchased at the thrift shop held some of his clothes, while the rest of them and his work scrubs hung in the tiny closet. They’d taken hooks and a tension rod and hung a sheer red curtain to create a little separation between his sleeping area and the rest of the studio apartment.
His TV was his one real splurge. It wasn’t the biggest, but it was new with a crystal-clear picture. The stand it sat on was also from the thrift shop, which was great because it meant they didn’t have to assemble it. As he looked at his mother giggling and dancing around the room with Leon, he figured they probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway, not after they’d really got going on the drinks.
His kitchen was stocked too. Claudia had gifted him with a set of dishes. They were washed and put away in the cabinets. The cookware came from Lupita, and a set of blue wineglasses from Leon.
“They’re cheap, but you’d better not break them.”
Miguel looked up from admiring his new wineglasses to smile at his friend. “I won’t, I promise.” Miguel went over and gave Leon a hug. “This is so awesome. Thank you all so much for your help moving me in and for all the gifts.” He was smiling but tears still made his vision a little blurry. He tried to wipe them away without anybody noticing, but Leon caught him.
“Awww, don’t cry, honey love. We’re happy to help.”
“That’s right,” Claudia said. “That’s what family is for.”
His mother and aunt came over and put their arms around both him and Leon, turning it into a group hug.
Sandwiched between them all, Miguel laughed a little. “You’re the best family a boy could ever ask for.”
***
Hector poured himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. He didn’t bother to sit down at the kitchen table. Instead, he leaned against the counter to eat. His apartment was quiet, missing Miguel’s conversation or the music he often played from his phone. Hector used to enjoy the peace and quiet of being in his own space. Now, after Miguel’s departure, he just felt alone.
He understood why Miguel needed to leave. Well, as much as he could without ever having been in Miguel’s situation. He’d practically been an adult since he was fifteen after the sudden death of his father. And he’d never been in an abusive relationship. So while he respected Miguel’s decision, he couldn’t really identify with the issues that caused him to make it.
A part of him wanted to call Miguel up and tell him this was bullshit. They could still be together even if Miguel kept his apartment. But would he be any better than Santos if he tried to tell Miguel what to do instead of letting him make his own choices?
Santos. Hector’s jaw clenched in anger just thinking the man’s name. He hated that asshole for abusing Miguel. But he was also hurt and angry that Miguel thought for even one second that he would treat him anywhere near as badly as Santos had. Miguel had known him for years. All Hector had ever done was watch out for him. He’d be happy taking care of Miguel for the rest of his life. The pain of Miguel’s rejection cut deep, especially coming out of left field the way it had when he’d been prepared to confess his love.