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Liam raised his cup to his mouth. “Car sounds good to me.”
“Mia?” I asked, moving my hand under her hair to massage the back of her neck.
“Yeah, I’m down for the car.”
“Sun rises in,”—I clicked on my phone and looked at the time— “two hours. We can grab breakfast and do a little sightseeing before we head out.”
Enterprise didn’t open until after eight, so we took a taxi to Casco Viejo, and I’d asked the driver to drop us off at his favorite place to have breakfast. My Spanish was a little rusty, his English newly developed, but together, we made it work. My three traveling companions fell asleep in the backseat as I struck a conversation with the driver. Talking to strangers had always been easy for me, as long as it wasn’t in crowded areas. I thrived in intimate environments such as this—just me and Antonio, with an adventure before us and sleepy heads behind us.
In the twenty-five minutes to Casco Viejo, I’d learned Antonio just celebrated his sixty-fourth birthday with his seven children, and fifteen grandchildren, with one more on the way. He’d lived in Spain his entire life, born in Madrid, and moved to Bilbao on a whim. He had dark eyes with unruly grey strands curling from his lively brows under his Panama style hat. At around seven in the morning, his smile brightened the narrow streets of the city before the sun did.
“El Tilo de Mami Lou,” Antonio a
I’d told him my fiancé had a sweet tooth, and the old chap delivered. “Perfecto, gracias, Antonio.” And I tipped him extra from the currency I’d exchanged back on the ferry.
Mia’s eyes lit up as soon as we walked into the bakery with black and white checkered flooring under our feet. A glass display case before us held cupcakes, cakes, pastries, and loaves of specialty homemade bread. The quaint bakery had a baroque-style interior with bistro tables and chairs. I ordered both of us cappuccinos, complete with a dollop of whipped cream and ci
“Oh-my-God,” Mia moaned after her first bite into her croissant, “I needed this so bad.”
“Ah, she’s awake.” I laughed, sipping the cappuccino. Mia nodded, then took another bite.
About forty seconds later, her croissant was gone, and she was already licking the melted chocolate chips from her fingers as Liam pardoned himself to use the loo.
We spent an hour walking up and down the Riverwalk beside the Estuary of Bilbao, stopping when the sun peeked above the historic buildings. Pale pinks, blues, and yellows bounced off the water from the changing sky, and the vintage lamp posts lining the cha
With marvel lit in Mia’s brown eyes, the four of us walked up and down the seven streets of medieval Casco Viejo. Her camera dangled from around her neck, snapping picture after picture. We stopped and ate lunch at the Mercado de la Ribera, which is a traditional market composed of local farmers inside the walls of the Art Deco-styled building. The entire space was open, and natural light poured in through the ceiling, reflecting off the luminous flooring as merchants and travelers busily exchanged small talk and money by the delicate floral interior. We didn’t stay long and crammed a lot in half a day before we rented a black suburban at a nearby Enterprise before taking off to our next destination.
Though there was another route almost an hour faster, we took the one leading us through the city of Madrid. In the rearview mirror, I glanced back where Mia and Jake fell fast asleep shortly after pulling out of the Enterprise. “They’ll sleep the entire way to Madrid,” I said to Liam beside me, who had his window down and eyes on the busy road out in front of us.
Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to be sitting beside Liam on my way to get married. During our time at Dolor, the two of us never particularly cared for one another. It wasn’t until I slapped him, waking him up from denial when we finally turned a page and developed a friendship. Liam cared for Jake, and Jake was one of Mia’s best friends, so in return, I couldn’t have left the two out on an important day. Though the bloke had fucked my fiancé once upon a time, that was water under the bridge. Her old habits … Which died hard once I came along and showed her the truth. I’d always felt the light in her, it illuminated mine.
“Who would’ve thought,” Liam muttered, almost hearing my thoughts. “It seems like forever ago when Oliver Masters was this untouchable god at Dolor who I despised.”
A laugh sputtered from my lips. “Untouchable god?”
“People listened to you, looked up to you. We were locked inside a world of criminals and users, but you …” he shook his head, “You have no idea, do you?”
“No, mate. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Liam looked back at Jake before sinking into the passenger seat. “You inspired a lot of people, Jake included. He talks about you, you know. All the fucking time,” he exaggerated. “How you were the first person to talk to him and accept him. When we first got together, I was jealous, which I can admit now. But if it weren’t for you, Jake wouldn’t be going back to school to teach or stand up to his father. Hell, he looked up to you, mate. He saw the way you were with Mia—with Zeke, Bria, Maddie—and grew balls and a new outlook on life. You made a positive change inside Dolor, and it still blows my mind.”
“Being kind can go a long way,” I quickly pointed out.
“Sure, there’s kindness, but then there’s genuine compassion. You have a spark for people and life. You’re a good man, Ollie. You sure as hell make me want to be a better one for Jake.”
“It’s a never-ending journey.” I didn’t like talking about me, so I switched gears. “Moments will come, and life will happen, but no one is perfect. We’re all going through this life expecting everyone else to think, walk, and talk like us, but that’s where we get it wrong as a society, because different just works. Individuality needs to be embraced. So if Jake fucks up, don’t be so quick to turn your back against him, and vice-versa. Choose each other. There’s my Ollie Lesson of the day.”
Liam laughed. “Thanks, mate.”
The conversation rolled smoothly after that, and five hours later, we reached Madrid.
In Spain, di