Amalia stared at the little woman who knew her name. For a moment I wondered whether it was her Mom.

But Amalia wouldn't have been confused if it was her Mom. More than anything, it seemed like she was attempting to retrieve a memory.

"Do I know you?" She asked, soft. It wasn't rude.

The woman held a hand across her chest and smiled. "Sí. Amalia, child you look beautiful. It's been too long."

Amalia laughed with a nervous echo. "I'm sorry, I— I'm not sure who you are."

The woman pulled a chair from the table beside us and sat down close to Amalia. "Antonella," she pointed at her chest, the lines around her mouth deepened with her smile. "You used to call me Nella. When you were small."

Amalia's brows furrowed, recognition began to seep into her puzzled expression. "That does sound familiar."

"Sí. Elias was a good friend. A best friend to Augustus. My late husband."

Amalia nodded and twisted her body further towards her as she straightened up. "You had a parrot called Luigi?!"

Antonella clapped her hands together and laughed as she nodded her head. Her curls bouncing with enthusiasm. "Sí, Sí! Oh sweet child. It's been such a long time. Is Elias here?!"

Amalia looked thrilled. "Oh no. He isn't. I'm vacationing with my boyfriend. It was a birthday surprise," she looked at me and grinned. "This is Max. Max this is Antonella."

I held out a hand for her to shake. "It's lovely to meet you ma'am."

She crossed her heart and pulled her chin back into her neck as she oohed and aahed. "Que caballero tan guapo."

Amalia giggled. "El es perfecto y estamos enamorados."

Antonella almost bounced out of her seat. Whatever was being said, it made Amalia blush. A full blush across her chest and cheeks.

She was the most radiant woman I'd ever seen. I could stare at her for hours.

There was a pause in the reunion when our crepes were delivered by a tall man with frosted tips and a small dark moustache.

"Would you like a crepe?" I offered Antonella, feeling rude that we'd be eating in front of her.

Amalia seemed so happy to see her that I didn't want her to think  she had to run off and leave us to our meal.

"Oh no," she shook her head and her smile morphed into an almost sad sigh. "Where did you find this one?" She asked Amalia with her thick accent. "So rare now. Gentlemen are disappearing!"

Amalia tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, her grin was full of pride. To save her from feeling as if she needed to boast about me, I decided to pick up the conversation.

It was a little uncomfortable to hear people gushing over how wonderful you are when you were just behaving like a decent human being.

"So, Antonella, do you live here in El Born?"

"Sí," she smiled. "All of my life. Our familia owns a bed and breakfast a block over. That is how I met Elias and Carmen, when they were Newlyweds!"

Amalia stiffened in her chair. I saw it. Not that I could have missed it. She gave me an unconvincing smile and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Uh, Nella," her knees were bouncing under the table. I could feel it. "Carm— Mom— she doesn't know I'm here. Please don't— don't tell her."

Antonella's mouth fell open and she looked between both of us with disbelief. "Mija," her voice was softer, her fingers wound around Amalia's hand which was tapping the table top. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Antonella clutched her chest and murmured something to herself in Spanish. "Mija, Carmen died. Three years ago."

Amalia jerked her head back and scoffed, loud. She looked at me with a smiling mouth but disturbance in her stare. "That's a joke, right?" She moved her attention back to Antonella. "That's not true?"

Antonella nodded and all I could do was stand up and round the table so I was near Amalia. I crouched beside her chair and held one of her hands.

"I thought Elias would have told you," Antonella let go of Amalia's hand when I invited her to our join our fingers.

My girl didn't hesitate. She leaned towards me while still watching this woman tell her that her abusive mother was dead and had been for several years.

"My dad knows?"

"I thought so," Antonella looked put out and flustered. "We sent him the email but we never heard back.  He was very hard to find after he left and he never responded to our messages but we tried."

Amalia's shoulders relaxed a little.  "He changed all of his contact information. I doubt it was the right email."

It was obvious she wanted to believe that Elias didn't know. I couldn't even begin to imagine the turmoil it would cause if he'd kept that from her.

"H-how? How did she die?" Amalia's hand squeezed mine and I held her thigh, offering her what strength I could. Her world must have been turning and I wished I could have held it still for her.

Antonella pulled her lips tight and shook her head. "She was in a new relationship. It's hard to know what the whole truth was. But what we hear is she was hitting him and he snapped. Beat her to death."

Amalia gasped. It was soft and quiet but it echoed with pain. "So after losing us, after losing her family, she still hadn't changed?"

Antonella shook her head.

"Were you friends with her?"

"Oh no," Antonella shook her head with a scowl. "After we learned about Elias leaving with you and Bernie because she'd broken her word, again, we cut her off. But we still hear things. That's how it goes. The awful man is in prison. Life sentence."

Amalia leaned her elbows on the tabletop and let her face drop into her palms. My hand rubbed slow circles on her back.

This wasn't what I wanted for her vacation. Yes I'd considered that her mom might come up in conversation or talk of memory.

But it would always be on Amalia's terms. And now this weight was on her shoulders right before her birthday. It didn't seem fair.

We stood in front of a square headstone in the largest cemetery I'd ever seen. Rolling hills surrounded us. There were huge plots and angel statues. Crosses. Tombs.

It was historic and it gave me the chills. But I kept an arm around Amalia while she stared at her mother's name on the headstone.

"I don't even— I don't know what to feel," she murmured. "It's like, part of me thinks she had it coming. But then part of me feels guilty for thinking that."

I kissed her head.

"I mean, am I upset? Am I sad that I never got to see her again? Or demand answers? Or am I glad that she can't let me down. Because it's obvious that she never changed."

It hurt so bad to hear the pain in her voice. And not just pain. Desperation. She wanted to understand her own thoughts and she couldn't. It was frustrating the hell out of her.

"Listen," I tipped her chin up and felt my stomach drop when I saw her eyes glistening. "There's no right or wrong way to feel about this. Especially right now. You only just found out."

She sniffed and averted her gaze down again.

"And," I continued. "Like I said, there's no right or wrong way to feel. She was still your mom. So if you're upset, if it hurts, that's okay. If you don't care because she hurt your dad so much, that's fine too. If you feel a bit of both, well I think that's reasonable. It's yours though, Amalia. Don't force yourself to feel a certain way because that's how you think you should feel."

Her shoulders began to shake and she collapsed into my chest with racking sobs that shook her whole frame.

I wished more than anything that I could steal that pain from her. I'd bare it so she didn't have to.

I held her so tight. Tight enough that it felt possible to steal her pain. Like it might slip straight off her and seep into me. I knew it wouldn't. But I tried.

"I'm sorry," she choked into my chest, fists clutching my shirt. "This is not how we should be spending our first vacation together."

"No, ssh," I whispered, cradling her head. "Don't think like that. Not at all."

Her arms were tight around my waist and I could feel her tears soaking through my shirt. But it didn't matter. She mattered. She was all that mattered.

When we got back to our apartment, she collapsed on the bed, all out of tears but it was obvious her head was still full of confusion.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked from the threshold of our room, knowing that she hadn't finished her crepe back at the bar. "There's food in the fridge. Or I can order something?"

She shook her head and remained front down in the sea of feather down duvet. "Can you come here?" She mumbled. "I just need to cuddle."

"Of course," I laid down beside her in the soft bedding and opened my arms so she could shuffle in. Chest to chest, I let her lie on my bicep and cupped her cheek with my other hand.

She stared at me with appreciative, red rimmed eyes and went to open her mouth to speak. But I pressed a finger against her parted lips.

"If you're going to apologise again, save it."

Her mouth snapped shut and I kissed it.

"I hope Antonella isn't upset about the fact that we ran off so fast," she mumbled, shifting closer. "That was sort of rude."

After Antonella told us where Carmen was buried, Amalia left the crepe bar so fast you would think it was on fire. But we knew where she was, so we could visit her again before we went home.

"I think she understood," I ran a hand up and down her back. "We can go and see her again."

Her small smile was grateful as she nodded her head. "Thank you," she said, interrupted when a yawn came on. "I'm so glad you're here."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, baby."

The next morning, I had to wake Amalia rather early. Not that I wanted to disturb her when I saw her tangled in the soft, white sheets.

But I'd made plans when we first arrived in Barcelona and it sort of put us on a time crunch.

It reminded me of the morning we left home. A surprise. But today was her birthday and I hoped she was feeling up to it.

Although I'd understand if she wasn't.

When she woke up, her eyes were swollen. But she smiled and it was a relief. "Hey," I wrapped an arm around her when she crawled up on to my bare chest and snuggled in close. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," her cheek was warm against my skin. "Still a bit confused on how I feel. But I can't change it. So I'm just going to focus on moving forward. I don't even want to think about the conversation I'll have to have with Dad when I get home."

I kissed her head. "Happy birthday, beautiful."

She tipped her head back and smiled up at me. Even if her eyes were swollen, they were beautiful. I cupped her jaw and kissed her nose. "We have somewhere to be in a few hours. Shower with me?"

Her tired gaze blinked and sharpened in surprise. "Where do we have to be?"

"It's a surprise," I stood up off the bed and headed for the bathroom. She wasn't far behind me.

We started the morning off in the best way possible.

Twice.

And then we were in the back of a cab. Amalia looked beautiful in a white sundress.

It sat off her shoulders and fell to her thighs. She had a big beach bag full of spare clothes, bathing suits and towels.

She didn't know where we were going but I told her those things might be needed and it was better to be prepared.

I wore a dark blue, fitted button up and black shorts. It was a warm morning and meant to get hotter. Which was perfect considering the plans I'd made.

Our cab stopped in a private parking lot in front of the Port Olimpic.

Boats were lined up. The water was calm. Gorgeous.

Amalia sat forward, clutching the passenger seat in front of her. "Are we doing a boat trip?!"

"Yep. A private one."

She looked me dead in the eye and shook her head with disbelief. "Every time you open your mouth, I want to mount you."

The cab driver didn't speak English. So I assumed that was the reason behind her bold comment.

I laughed and gave her a quick kiss. "We have eight hours alone on that boat. I'm sure we'll find time."

We got out of the car, I took the bag for Amalia and held her other one while she paid the cab driver and thanked him. Her mood had lifted and when she smiled, I smiled.

She made my heart so damn full.

The boat was immaculate. Clean aesthetic with hardwood floors and gloss white surfaces. It was modern and sharp on the inside and the outside.

We met the man who would be operating the boat for the day. He had his own area upstairs that he assured us he wouldn't leave as per policy.

But if we needed anything, we were more than welcome to go to him.

There was a small flight of four stairs that led us out onto a deck where there was cushioned seating and a hammock as well as a booth with a table and cushioned seats.

The fridge was stocked with beverages. There would be a team of staff boarding the boat between twelve and one to cook lunch.

It was perfect. The smile Amalia wore as she stood on the top deck, watching the water while we left the doc was so rewarding.

I stood behind her and encircled her waist, resting my chin on her head.

"Happy birthday. Again."

She tipped her head back and held my arms. "I love you, Max."

"I love you too."

"I know."

I smiled against her soft hair. Good. I wanted her to know. I never wanted her to doubt it. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," she turned around and clasped her fingers behind my neck. "You know how to make things better. Easier. You've proven to me that no matter what I'm going through, you'll be right there. I just— I can't explain how grateful I am for you."

I kissed her lips. She was warm from the sun. The breeze picked up as the boat moved faster but we didn't lose balance.

"You don't have to explain, beautiful. I feel it. You've helped me heal and love more than I thought I ever would."

If I was ever certain about anything in this world. It was that this girl owned my heart. I knew it because I knew that seeing her hurt killed me.

Seeing her smile gave me strength and wanting to do whatever I could to see her happy, was forever going to be the goal. I was all in this. The payoff was worth it all.

____

Part two epilogue coming next. And then we'll be seeing part three. Abby's POV.