THE PRESENT

Juan knew he was as good as dead. Everyone had turned their backs on him; he was all alone. It was hard to tell what had brought him down this street, or why he was now standing in front of this house, with its natural stone walls and angular grey roof.

But it was for her. Once, there was a time she had always been there for him, no matter the shitty things he'd done.

But that was fifteen years ago.

Fifteen fucking years.

He knew it was ridiculous to think she would still be willing to help him, and even more ridiculous to believe that she could save him from an outlaw motorcycle club. It was ironic. He'd left her because he'd wanted to keep her safe and now here he was bringing danger to her doorstep.

But he had to see her. Once more, before the brothers he'd betrayed found him and took him to meet the Reaper. He needed to look into her soothing eyes once more, had to see that pretty smile of hers for the very last time. He had to convince himself giving her up had been the right thing to do, that he'd done at least one good thing in his life.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. The thought she might be only a few meters away from him, made him feel light-headed. What would she do when she opened the door? Slam it right in his face? Would she pull him into her arms? The thought of her body against his; the skin of her cheek against him, filled his eyes with tears. His lips quivered. Oh, how he'd longed for that embrace, for her sweet whispers, and her gentle touch. He'd felt so lost without her. Not a day had passed without thinking about her. Did she still feel the same about him? Had she forgotten about him? Maybe she was married by now, had a family. Was he really about to ruin her life again? It was so selfish. His life was fucked up already, but did he really want to drag her along in his misery? Was he really going to throw these past years away, making his departure meaningless?

He was just about to turn around and stroll away, when his eye caught a movement next to the curtain. A small brown haired boy was standing there peeking over the sill. He waved his little hand and Juan saw his lips move.

Juan's own hand was shaking as he waved back.

Then a second person showed up in the window. Her eyes grew wide as their eyes locked, and her face became pale as if she was seeing a ghost.

Juan couldn't move. He just stared at the woman who was only a few steps away from him. Her long copper hair hadn't changed a bit. Her face was fuller now and there were less freckles than he remembered, but he recognized her immediately and by her astonished reaction, she also knew exactly who she was staring back at.

Juan tried to smile, tried to move at all, but it felt like his body was petrified and all he could do was stare at his lost love unable to break eye contact.