The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

Aaron’s fingers dropped from my chin and wrapped around the hand that
hadn’t been clutching my chest.
He squeezed gently.
Ready? he asked me without words.
I took one last deep breath, and we headed for the doors that opened to
the Arrivals terminal of the small Spanish airport.
To my parents.
To this outrageously ludicrous farce we were about to embark on.
To this … what had I called it before? Oh yeah, to this whole Spanish
love deception we had planned.
Because we, Aaron and I, got this.
He had said so. And I believed him.
I just hoped, for both our sakes, that he was right.
“PAPÁ, for the last time, we are more than okay here.” My eyes searched the
small room for my fake boyfriend, looking for backup.
The corner of his lips tipped up.
“Maybe if we move Abuela to your sister’s place,” Papá continued, “you
two could take the big guest room in the house. Although I am not really sure
if Tío José and Tía Inma will be sleeping there. Wait, let me call—”
“Papá,” I cut him off, reaching out to pat his arm. “It’s okay. This
apartment is more than okay. You don’t need to move us to the house. Leave
Abuela alone.”
A wave of nostalgia and familiarity hit me right in the gut. It had been so
long since I had come home; all of it felt as familiar as breathing, and at the
same time, it was like a memory I had not revisited in a long time. My dad
and his good heart, always so accommodating. Caring too much. Trying to
make everybody feel at home even if it meant going through the bedroom
Hunger Games. I had been so preoccupied with dreading the moment that I
had forgotten they were my family. My home. And, God, despite everything,
I had missed them with all my heart.
My mom shifted from the entrance of the cramped bedroom, assessing
the situation. “Ay, cariño, your father is right. No sé …” She hesitated,
looking for the words. “Este hombre es tan alto y … grande.” Her gaze