Cecilia looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, pinching the blonde bangs covering her forehead between her index and middle fingers.

“I think I need a haircut,” she told herself, continuing her inspection.

She was twenty-seven, and as her friend Laura would say, still just a kid, though she didn’t feel like one. Despite her smooth, radiant skin and hair that was honestly just the right length, every time she looked in the mirror, she found something missing. She didn’t see that her face was attractive, or that, no matter who looked at her, no one would believe she’d given birth at twenty.

Only those who had known her before Victor Villafuerte could see the thing Cecilia no longer noticed in her reflection. They knew her blue eyes had dimmed and only lit up when she was holding her son, Ismael. They also understood, and forgave, her indifference toward romantic relationships and her aversion to “wealthy” people. Deep down, Cecilia was still the lively, kind, and compassionate person she’d always been, but within her soul lived a hurt child, terrified of being used and wounded again. That’s why she couldn’t appreciate her looks anymore, or fully trust in feelings like love.

“Ceciliaaa! Breakfast is ready!” Laura called out from the kitchen, banging a wooden spoon against a saucepan like every morning. The sound forced Cecilia to cut her self-examination short.

It was Saturday, so she didn’t bother changing out of her pajamas or getting ready for work. She simply splashed water on her face and rushed out of her room to stop Laura from making that infernal noise.

“Good morning!” Cecilia called out as she entered the kitchen, heading straight for the dining table to scoop her son up in a tight hug. “Ismael, my baby,” she said lovingly, ruffling his black hair. Then she smiled at Manuel, Laura’s husband, who was also sitting at the table.

“Alright, now we’re all here,” Laura announced, tossing the saucepan and spoon into the sink before hurrying to join them. “Family, time for breakfast!”

Cecilia sat down, smiling faintly, still amazed at how Laura managed to be so cheerful every morning no matter how long Cecilia had been living with them. Manuel shook his head with mock exhaustion, while Ismael, uninterested in the atmosphere, grabbed his utensils and started eating.

“Tania called,” Laura said, breaking the brief silence. “She’s coming to spend the summer with us.”

“Aunt Tania’s coming?” Ismael stopped eating, his feet bouncing excitedly under the table.

“Yes!” Laura’s excitement matched that of a six, nearly seven, year old.

Ismael beamed and turned to Cecilia. “Mom, I have to finish it,” he said, before hurriedly returning to his meal.

“The what?” Laura asked, but neither Ismael nor Cecilia answered. The first wasn’t allowed to talk with his mouth full, and Cecilia was lost in the joy of seeing her son happy. Despite Ismael having inherited more from Victor than she would’ve liked, she adored him.

She wouldn’t lie to herself by claiming her pregnancy had been easy, or that raising Ismael was a walk in the park, because it hadn’t been. The pregnancy had been rough, full of dizziness, fainting, and worry because the baby barely moved. He arrived earlier than planned. And though he wasn’t a fussy baby, Cecilia was grateful for that calm, until, at age two, he began showing signs of autism.

She spent a fortune on doctors until one finally assured her, and proved, that her son was perfectly fine. Ismael was simply very intelligent, and for some reason preferred his imaginary world to the real one. Thankfully, that phase had passed.

Now, her son could read, solve complex math problems, and had a deep love for music. His first instrument was the piano, and now he was taking violin and flute lessons. Honestly, without Laura and Manuel’s help, or the encouragement from their daughter Tania, Cecilia didn’t know how she’d manage.

“A song,” Cecilia said suddenly, finally processing Laura’s earlier question, asked right after Ismael left the table. “He wants to make one for Tania.”

Laura and Manuel smiled proudly, as if the little prodigy were their grandson. Then they both gave Cecilia that warm, approving look parents often give. Cecilia smiled back.

At that moment, Manuel’s phone rang. He stood, offering a small apologetic gesture. Laura raised her chin, mock-offended, believing breakfast was sacred and family time even more so. Manuel smiled.

“Hello?” he answered, placing a kiss on Laura’s head as he left the room. Laura grinned.

Cecilia tilted her head a little, feeling a mix of peace, happiness, and sadness. The first two because Laura and Manuel made her feel like part of a family, and the last because deep down, she longed to share that kind of bond with someone too. Laura was loud and playful, like a kid despite being thirty-six, while Manuel, at forty-one, was calm and serious. They were so different, yet so alike, just like Victor and she had once been.

The thought shook her. Cecilia quickly shook her head and downed her orange juice so fast she choked on it. She coughed, trying to catch her breath while Laura, half amused and half worried, grabbed a napkin and fanned her face.

“Look up, Cecilia. Up!” Laura made such silly gestures that, as soon as Cecilia could breathe, she burst out laughing. They both laughed so hard their stomachs hurt and had to stop.

“You know what, Cecilia? You’re so much prettier when you laugh,” Laura said offhandedly. Cecilia shrugged.

“I guess—Have you thought about Gerardo’s offer?”

Cecilia repeated the shrug.
“There’s nothing to think about. I’m not going on vacation with him. I can’t leave Ismael alone.”

“He won’t be alone,” Laura insisted, back to her usual breezy tone. “He’ll be with us. And Tania’s coming too. It’d only be for a few days.”

Cecilia closed her eyes, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.

“Gerardo’s my friend. I don’t like him like that, and I never will. We have fun together, but that’s it. I’m not going on some romantic getaway with him.”

Normally, Laura was understanding when someone didn’t want to talk about something, but she had this obsession that Gerardo and Cecilia would make a good couple, and Cecilia couldn’t find a way to make her see otherwise.

After Ismael was born, Cecilia had grown apart from people her age, who preferred bars and parties over talking about diapers. She still saw her friends, but it wasn’t the same. Gerardo had been the first friend from her generation in four years. She met him at the diving school where Laura worked, and they clicked immediately.

Gerardo was a pediatrician and loved kids, so he’d patiently listen whenever she talked about Ismael. They shared tastes in music, books, movies, and food. They’d gone out several times as friends, and though Cecilia enjoyed his company, she’d been avoiding him lately because his feelings were starting to show, and Cecilia didn’t want to encourage them.

“It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be,” Laura said, trying to soften the idea. “I just think you need a break. You’re always doing everything, and you never stop.”

“Look who’s talking,” Manuel teased, reappearing in the dining room. Then, looking at Cecilia, he added protectively, “You shouldn’t go off with Gerardo, but you do need a vacation.”

“As if I could afford that,” Cecilia scoffed.

“You can. You just don’t want to,” Manuel replied without hesitation, making Cecilia wrinkle her nose.

“I haven’t had a single day off since Ismael was born.”

“It’s not about wanting a day off from your son,” Manuel said gently. “It’s about having a day for yourself. I love Laura, but sometimes I need a breather too. It’s normal.”

“What?!” Laura exclaimed, feigning shock, then dramatically collapsed onto the table. Manuel gave an amused shrug as if to say, See what I mean?