Through You (The Hidalgo Brothers Book 2)

My dark shades protect me from the unrelenting sun hitting the South Carolina beach. I enjoy the warmth on my skin and the soothing sound of the waves.

I needed this vacation. I’ve been worn out, with very little free time since I started running my own advertising company and looking after several foundations I’ve established with the help of Artemis. With that being said, I always make sure to spend enough quality time with my family. Most importantly, with my children and my husband. Our summer vacation is sacred quality time.

“Mom!” Hades, my youngest, runs toward me holding seashells in his sand-covered hands, his wet red hair sticking to his face and framing its small features. The sunlight makes his honey-brown eyes look lighter in color, and brings out the freckles on his cheeks. “I found so many this time.”

His older sister follows closely behind. She has her arms folded across her chest and looks frustrated. Sometimes I think she acts like a miniature version of an adult. I prop myself up on my elbows and smile at them.

“Wow. That’s a lot,” I tell him. He likes to collect tokens from the places we visit. His room is full of all kinds of souvenirs from countries around the world. “You have to choose the ones that you like best for your collection.”

“As if he doesn’t have enough in his room already,” his sister replies.

“Hera.”

“It’s true, Mom. You can’t fully open the door to his room anymore.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I asked for her opinion, Mom. And as always, she’s bitter.”

Hades rebukes her.

I wonder who she takes after.

“Who are you calling bitter?”

And this is the beginning of an argument. I calm them down, and we have the same old discussion about the need for respect and tolerance between siblings.

Hera lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, volcano.” Her nickname for Hades comes from the color of his hair.

“It’s okay,” he replies. His adorable pout could convince anyone, even his ill-tempered sister. Hera leans closer to him and playfully messes up his hair.

“Good. I’ll help you choose the best ones,” she tells him.

“The very best?” His pout vanishes and joy spreads across his face. Hades is cute. Both children are. My babies, my children.

I watch them walk back to the shore, joining their father along the way.

My husband has just emerged from the water. These past years have been good to him. How is it possible that the older he gets, the better he looks? It’s not normal.

He continues to exercise on a daily basis and the water trickling down his muscles contour his well-toned chest, abs, and arms. The light, scruffy beard I adore so much still adorns his chiseled jaw. He shakes his head in an attempt to dry his wet hair before running his fingers through it. I bite my lower lip. I believe I’ll be licking those abs later today when the kids go to bed.

Artemis comes over to give me a kiss and sits by my side.

“Claudia, the expression on your face gives you away every time you look at me while entertaining dirty thoughts.”

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“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all.” He brings his mouth close to my ear. “In fact, I was thinking that perhaps today when the kids go to bed . . .”

As usual, our minds are set on the same goal. The same goes for all our responsibilities: his company and mine, the children, the foundations. We’ve had a few stretches when we’ve lacked the time for intimacy. The urgency and intensity of our couplings are dead giveaways of how long it’s been. I guess this is what it’s like to be an adult.

“It’s late. We have to go back to the hotel and book our reservations for the fireworks show,” Artemis tells me while caressing my exposed back.

I’m wearing a two-piece bathing suit. I’m confident in my skin and don’t mind showing the scar from my C-section and the one from my appendectomy, or the stretch marks from my pregnancies. I owe this attitude to my mother, who taught me to love myself the way I am.

My beautiful mother, may she rest in peace. She passed away at few years ago. She managed to live longer than the doctor’s prognosis. I firmly believe the birth of Hera and Hades were her motivation to hang on—her grandchildren were a source of strength and motivation to live. I find comfort in knowing that she treasured the time she had left because it was spent in the company of her grandchildren, and that that made her very happy.

I aspire to be as good a mother as you were, Mom. Even though you made mistakes you always showed me love, and fostered in me self-love and self-worth. I hope I don’t let you down.

“What are you thinking about?” Artemis brings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a side-hug.

“My mom.”

He plants a kiss on my head, and I shake off the sadness.

After all, that’s why we’ve come on the Hidalgo family vacation. It was five years ago when we started the tradition of celebrating the Fourth of July at the beach. Members of the Hidalgo clan from all over the country gather here for a yearly family reunion. And it’s worked.

We call the kids and head back to the hotel to shower and change. We struggle to keep Hades from falling asleep on the sofa after his shower. It’s a family tradition that we all watch the spectacle together. We walk down to the beach where the show takes place and sit on folding chairs. Hades is on my lap and Hera stands behind her dad and hugs him from behind, leaning on him for support.

The fireworks show starts right before our eyes.

“Wow!” Hades exclaims and looks at me to confirm I’m not missing anything.

“Impressive, right?”

He nods repeatedly.

I turn to stare at the man of my life and his gorgeous face illuminated by the colorful fireworks. He turns to look at me, feeling my gaze on him. Suddenly, we transform into the awkward teenagers from that Fourth of July many years ago. Artemis takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“Happy Fourth of July, fire,” he whispers.

“Happy Fourth of July, iceberg,” I reply.

I never thought it was possible to be this happy. Or that he and I would find our way back to each other and rekindle old feelings as well as commit to each other for the rest of our lives. I give his hand a loving squeeze. This time I’m not letting go.

Notwithstanding wounds and time, we all have the capacity to be loved and love truly and madly with all our hearts. In spite of life’s fickleness, with its many ups and downs, sooner or later you find that someone who will hold your hand in the good times and the bad. That one person who can see through you.