THE PRESENT

Juan didn't want to let her go, didn't want to look away from her, afraid she would disappear like a volatile daydream. Hadn't he had thousands of fantasies like this over the years?

Soothingly, she stroked her thumb along the back of his hand, gently pulling him towards her house. As the years had gone by it felt like her fingers had been everywhere on his body, it didn't seem to matter who he had taken to his bed, in his imagination it was always her touch and it had never felt as real as it did now in this moment.

Again tears welled up in his eyes as he looked towards her, taking in her face. She hadn't changed a bit. He could still feel the warmth, the love that radiated from her and he wanted to drown himself in it. He wanted to pull her close, feel her fingertips travel down his jaw, taste her lips.

But she had opened her heart for someone else. Of course she had; an amazing woman like her would never have stayed alone for such a long time. He had hoped that she had moved on with her life, that she had built a family, and that she was happy, but the thought of her doing all of that with someone else still ripped him apart.

Her and him, they should have been together. They should have grown old together. Then the club would never have been able to consume him, he never would have done all those horrible things. There never would have been an empty house to return to, there never would have been the loveless touches of nameless women keeping him awake during the night.

But they hadn't been that lucky. He hadn't allowed himself to be that lucky. He had wished for something better for her, someone better.

They stepped through the front door. Juan leaned with his shoulder against the wall as a sudden outbreak of panic took over his body, squeezing his throat, causing his breath to escape in sharp, shallow pants.

They would find him. They would find him and then they would find her and they would hurt her.

For a moment, there was nothing but the swirling darkness around him, tugging at him, screaming at him. Turn around. Turn around. He was torn, he wanted to choke, he wanted to die but he also wanted to breathe, wanted to live.

"Hey... Look at me, Juan."

He felt her hands cupping his cheeks, startling him; cutting right through the sudden coldness that was consuming him. He was gasping for breath, staring into her eyes. They were still that blueish grey, large. Filled with sorrow. Sorrow that had never been there before.

"All right? You're safe here. You're safe, baby."

Her hands glided to the back of his head, bending it a little until her forehead rested against his. He felt her breathing brush across his lips while her thumbs were moving up and down along the tensed muscles in his neck.

Juan squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to stop the tears, but they kept pushing themselves through his eyelashes. His breathing however had calmed down and the tight darkness that was consuming him was slowly draining from his mind.

"Oh Juan... What happened to you?" Her arms glided around him, pulling him in and holding him tight.

Juan buried his face in the crook of her neck. His quivering lips touching her lightly and he felt how she shivered in response. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time. There was nothing he wanted more than to get her back.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered against her skin. "I felt so lost without you, my life was so pointless."

June started to sob too. Her arms tensed around him. "Then why did you leave?" she cried. "Why did you never come back to me? I never understood why you left – I still don't!"

She stepped back so she could look at him. Her tear-stained face made his heart cringe. He wanted to touch her, wanted to feel her warmth again, but he knew her own pain had pushed itself to the front now.

He owed her answers – he had owed her answers for fifteen years.

Juan took a few deep breaths and rubbed his cheeks dry, even though he knew they would be wet again within a few minutes. He nodded, rather to convince himself of telling her the truth than actually answering her. The look in her eyes became softer, although he could still feel her pain.

She was still hurt. After all these years.

She walked further into the house and invited him into the living room. When he walked past her, he felt her hand on his lower back as she pushed him gently towards the dinner table.

"I'm going to make tea," she said quietly, "and I have to check on my son."

Juan nodded blankly and lowered himself onto the nearest chair. He heard her rummaging behind him in the kitchen, where after she went upstairs. His eyes fluttered through the house. The living room was square, with decent grey furniture and a large dark red carpet. Here and there were toys, and on the dresser on the other side of the room he saw a few picture frames. He was curious to her family, but at the same time he didn't want to torture himself by looking at the family he could have had.

If he had searched for another solution back then, would they have lived together in this house? Would it have been his son that she was checking on now? A son... He squeezed his lips. He would never have a son now. How much longer did he have before they would find him? A week? Maybe a month? Hell, he might not even make it to tomorrow.

He heard footsteps on the stairs again. June came down, poured the tea in two mugs and put them on the table. She sat down in the chair next to him, but turned sideways, so that her face was towards him.

Her finger followed a groove on the wooden table. Juan turned sideways too. Their knees touched now, but she didn't move her legs to the side. On the contrary, she leaned forward and took his hand. A pink glow spread across her cheeks, the same one that had made his heart beat faster so many times in the past.

"I need to hold you," she said softly, her eyes aimed at her knees. "Otherwise... I can't trust myself that you're really here."

Juan cleared his throat, but the lump didn't go away. Even though he knew she wanted answers, he needed to ask a question himself first. A question that had been on his mind for fifteen years.

"Are you – are you happy, June?"

Her thumb brushed his forefinger. It distracted him, but he kept his glance at her face.

"Are we going to give each other honest answers?" she asked quietly. "Even if they will hurt us?" She looked up to him.

Juan took a deep breath and nodded.

June bit her lip, her shoulders slumped down. "The past fifteen years I haven't felt truly happy for a single day."

Defeated, Juan bent his head. That wasn't what he had wanted to hear. Again, the tears began to roll down his cheeks and this time she wasn't trying to comfort him.

"Luna told me you were with another woman," June said after a while. Her voice sounded fragile. "Why – why didn't you just tell me?"

Shakily, he breathed in. His head was still bent; he stared at her fingers around his. "There never was someone else. My sister... she really liked you. And she – she believed you deserved something better than the life I could give you. Especially after..." He took a deep breath. The memories threatened to break down his already wounded heart.

"I didn't want another life than one I had with you. How... How could you decide for me what life I deserved?" Sadness colored her voice, but Juan couldn't bring himself to look at her.

He took another deep breath. "I fucked up, June. I fucked up everything. After what happened with Mateo..." He swallowed, pressing his lips together as he mentioned his brother's name. He had never spoken about him after leaving Queens. No matter how close he had been with his brothers; he had never told them about his real brother. "I pissed off the wrong people. I needed to leave Queens; I couldn't go home anymore. If they would have followed me, if they found out how much you meant to me... I had to let you go, June." Finally he looked up at her. Her eyes were shining like wet gems, taking his breath away for a moment. "I didn't want you to have to live like a fugitive. I couldn't make you leave behind your friends, your family, your dreams. Not for me. We were only twenty, there was plenty of time for you to fall in love again."

She turned away her face and started to sob again. Pulling her fingers away from him, she leaned with her elbows on the table and buried her face in the palm of her hands.

"I thought... that you wouldn't go looking for me if you thought I was with someone else. That if you hated me you would let me go, then you would be safe."

She didn't answer. Juan didn't even know if she was still listening to him. With all his heart he wanted to pull her in his arms, but he knew she had turned away from him purposely, she was pulling away.

Defeated he bowed his head, tears itching along his cheeks again.