Chapter 19: Jimena Returns
1607 Words
The first sign that Jimena was coming home wasn't excitement.
It was Carlos being home for dinner three nights in a row.
By the third evening, even Ross noticed.
Which wasn't surprising.
Officially, Ross was Carlos's executive assistant.
Unofficially, he was family.
He'd worked for Carlos for years—long enough that the line between employee and friend had disappeared somewhere along the way.
Ross had attended birthdays, holidays, graduations, and family dinners.
He knew where everything was in the Hernandez estate.
He had his own key.
And despite regularly threatening to quit whenever Carlos became impossible, nobody actually believed he would.
Least of all Carlos.
He'd stopped by that evening to review a few documents before the weekend and somehow ended up staying for dinner.
Again.
"This is getting concerning."
Carlos looked up from his plate.
"What is?"
"You."
Carlos set down his fork.
"Be specific."
"You're home."
"I live here."
Ross ignored him.
"You've had dinner in this house three nights in a row."
Carlos sighed.
"Jimena gets in Friday."
Ross nodded knowingly.
"Ah."
Carlos took a sip of water.
"I haven't seen her since Christmas."
That got Reina's attention.
Ross's expression softened slightly.
He'd known Jimena since she was a child.
In many ways, he'd watched her grow up.
"That's a long time."
Carlos nodded once.
"Too long."
Ross leaned back in his chair.
"You missed your daughter."
Carlos gave him a flat look.
"I always miss my daughter."
The statement was delivered with the same tone he might have used discussing quarterly revenue.
Which somehow made it more sincere.
Ross chuckled.
Across the table, Reina smiled into her glass.
Some things never changed.
Carlos wasn't expressive.
He wasn't sentimental.
But every now and then, the people closest to him caught small glimpses of how much he cared.
This was one of them.
And despite herself, a familiar ache stirred in her chest.
She was happy for Jimena.
Truly.
Everyone deserved to be missed like that.
To have someone counting down the days until they came home.
To have a parent who looked forward to seeing them.
Reina lowered her gaze to her plate.
She couldn't remember what that felt like.
Couldn't remember what it was like to have someone waiting for her.
Her mother had died when she was little.
Her father was gone too.
The thought passed quickly, buried beneath years of practice.
Still, it lingered.
A quiet emptiness she rarely allowed herself to examine.
By Friday evening, the Hernandez estate felt unusually busy.
Staff moved through the house preparing for dinner.
The formal dining room had already been set.
Dinner was in the oven.
Fresh flowers had appeared on the table.
Even Carlos had put his laptop away before six.
That alone felt historic.
Ross had arrived early to help oversee a few last-minute details, despite repeated reminders that the staff had everything under control.
He'd ignored those reminders.
As usual.
A little after seven, headlights swept across the front windows.
Ross glanced toward the door.
"She must be here."
The front door opened moments later.
Jimena Hernandez stepped inside.
For a moment, Reina simply stared.
Not because Jimena looked different.
Because she somehow looked exactly the same and completely different all at once.
Beautiful.
Confident.
Effortlessly polished.
Dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
Her designer handbag probably cost more than Reina's entire wardrobe.
The cream-colored dress she wore looked simple at first glance, but Reina knew enough from years around wealthy people to recognize expensive tailoring when she saw it.
Everything about Jimena looked effortless.
Like she'd stepped out of a magazine.
Reina glanced down at herself.
Her outfit was nice.
Practical.
Something she'd chosen because it was appropriate for dinner, not because it made a statement.
That had always been the difference between them.
Jimena wore clothes that drew attention.
Reina wore clothes that blended in.
Jimena walked into a room expecting to be noticed.
Reina usually hoped she wouldn't be.
Even physically, the comparison felt unfair.
Jimena had inherited her mother's striking beauty and Carlos's confidence.
Reina had always considered herself plain by comparison.
Not unattractive.
Just ordinary.
The kind of woman people overlooked when someone like Jimena was standing nearby.
Being away had clearly been good to her.
Very good.
There was an energy about her that Reina didn't remember.
A brightness.
As though she were carrying a secret she couldn't quite hide.
"Papa."
Carlos stood.
The hug they shared was brief.
Not because either of them wanted it to be.
Because neither was particularly demonstrative.
Still, the smile that appeared on Carlos's face was impossible to miss.
"Welcome home."
Jimena smiled.
"It's good to be back."
Reina watched them for a moment longer than she meant to.
The sight warmed something inside her.
And stirred an old ache she rarely let herself dwell on.
Not because she was jealous.
Because she knew exactly what she was looking at.
Belonging.
The certainty that someone was yours and you were theirs.
She'd had that once.
More than that, actually.
Her father had adored her when she was little.
She remembered being lifted onto his shoulders, remembered falling asleep against him during long drives, remembered the way he'd looked at her like she was the most important thing in the world.
Those memories hadn't disappeared.
They almost made it harder.
Because she knew what she'd lost.
She looked away before anyone noticed.
She greeted Ross next.
"Ross."
"Welcome back, Jimena."
Unlike her greeting with Carlos, she hugged Ross without hesitation.
Ross laughed.
"Look at you. Suddenly you're too important to answer texts."
"I answered some of them."
"Three."
"That's practically all of them."
The exchange was easy.
Familiar.
The kind that only existed between people who had known each other for years.
Ross had spent enough time around the Hernandez family that Jimena treated him less like an employee and more like an uncle she actually liked.
Then her attention shifted toward Reina.
For a moment, it seemed as though she'd forgotten she was there.
"Oh. Hi, Reina."
"Hi."
They exchanged a quick hug.
Polite.
Brief.
The kind of greeting given to someone expected to be present rather than someone genuinely missed.
Jimena stepped back almost immediately.
"How have you been?"
"Good."
"That's nice."
Her attention drifted away before Reina could say anything else.
Not intentionally rude.
Just dismissive.
As though Reina occupied the same category as distant relatives seen at holidays.
Present.
Familiar.
But not particularly important.
The feeling shouldn't have bothered her.
Jimena had always been like this.
Yet standing there, watching everyone welcome her home, Reina couldn't help feeling a little invisible.
Like furniture.
Part of the house.
Expected to be there.
Rarely noticed.
And standing beside Jimena only made the feeling worse.
People's eyes naturally gravitated toward her.
They always had.
Reina remembered family gatherings when they were younger.
Adults complimenting Jimena's dress.
Jimena's hair.
Jimena's smile.
Meanwhile, Reina had been praised for being helpful.
Responsible.
Quiet.
Useful.
The comparison wasn't new, but tonight it felt impossible to ignore.
A few minutes later, another set of headlights appeared in the circular driveway.
Ross smiled.
"And there they are."
The front door opened again.
Anthony entered first.
David followed behind him.
"Sorry we're late," Anthony said.
"You weren't invited until yesterday," Carlos replied.
"Exactly. Very inconsiderate planning."
Jimena laughed.
Anthony crossed the room and hugged her.
"Welcome home."
"Miss me?"
"Of course."
She narrowed her eyes.
"That sounded suspiciously diplomatic."
Anthony grinned.
"I've known you too long to answer that question honestly."
Jimena laughed and shoved his shoulder.
The exchange was warm and familiar, the easy banter of people who had grown up around each other.
David greeted Carlos and Ross before turning to Jimena.
"Welcome back."
"Thanks."
His smile was genuine.
"How was Boston?"
"Busy."
"I figured."
There was clear affection in his tone.
Respect, too.
David had always liked Jimena.
She was ambitious, intelligent, and usually knew exactly what she wanted.
Whatever flaws she had, he'd always considered her one of the more capable people in their circle.
Then his attention shifted briefly toward Reina.
Only for a moment.
A simple acknowledgment.
Then he looked away.
For reasons Reina refused to examine, disappointment flickered through her.
She ignored it immediately.
Dinner began shortly afterward.
The formal dining table seated eight comfortably.
Carlos sat at the head of the table.
Jimena took the seat to his right.
Ross sat beside her.
On Carlos's left sat Reina, with Anthony beside her.
David took the seat across from Anthony, leaving him directly across from Reina.
The final seat remained empty at the far end.
The arrangement wasn't intentional.
At least not officially.
Still, Reina became painfully aware of it the moment she sat down.
Anthony on one side.
Carlos on the other.
And David directly across from her.
The conversation flowed easily.
Jimena talked about school.
About friends.
About Boston.
About the luxury hospitality internship she'd spent the last six weeks completing before coming home.
Anthony contributed stories of his own.
Ross occasionally interrupted everyone.
A privilege nobody else possessed.
Years of friendship with Carlos and near-permanent residence at family gatherings had earned him that right.
David mostly listened.
Reina smiled and listened.
Most of the stories belonged to a version of the family she had never really known.
Summers in New York.
Family vacations.
Inside jokes that needed no explanation.
She'd spent most of those years in Spain.
Before Vidal got sick.
Before everything changed.
Sometimes being part of a family wasn't the same thing as belonging to it.
The thought didn't make her sad.
Just aware of how much time had passed.
- Writer
