285- The Sweetest Surprise
285- The Sweetest Surprise
POV Nicholas:
Three years later.
California, Los Angeles, USA.
It’s been exactly one month since we moved to California. Exactly two years since I finally managed to take Raica to the altar—this woman made me wait an entire year between setting a date and saying it was too soon. Our marriage was consummated in Angra, at the house that marked our first time.
A simple and intimate ceremony, filled with love—that was all we needed. Back in California, my wife is about to start her postgraduate studies in audiovisual production, and I’m about to open three more nightclubs in the United States. I bought a beautiful house in Los Angeles; sun and beach are among the wonders that fascinate me about Brazil, and LA has that same flavor.
Another detail that excites Raica—and makes me a little anxious—is the salsa competition, the rhythm that steals my wife from my arms for a few days and places her in Pietro’s—the cocky bastard’s—arms. This year, the championship took place here in the city. My gorgeous woman, radiant as ever, counted down every day leading up to the finals. Even my parents graced the VIP box with their presence. To be fair, Sara and Robert were making an effort. Isabella and Raica were slowly softening the old folks’ hearts.
The waiter serves champagne to the guests; Isabella, Dominic, Ruben, and Melissa complete the Whitmore circle. And Théo also came to honor his eternal sister-in-law. The boy, now seemingly recovered from trauma and violence, accepted my invitation a year ago and is now the new executive of the UP network in the United States.
My smiling gaze wanders across everyone and briefly lands on my brother, engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Ruben and Théo.
1,277 days have passed since the transplant, and we haven’t had any direct contact since. Dominic remains a great mystery. I was sincere when I said I’d left the past behind, and I’m sincere again when I say my heart is slowly freeing itself from the mold. That doesn’t mean living side by side with my brother. That doesn’t mean raising a glass with him to life—even if he gave back what he once took from me.
I guess we’re even.
I hear the crowd’s exaggerated screams and turn toward the dance floor. They have every reason to lose their minds—the enchanting woman who tamed my rebellious heart steps in with her enviable sway, sexy as hell in that short, shiny outfit, beside that asshole of a partner. Damn, the guy’s good. I admit it—I’m jealous.
"Stop drooling, brother-in-law." Isabella bumps her shoulder into mine and stands by my side. Before she starts talking, I scan the area for her husband, who obviously doesn’t approve of this little chat. "Who are you looking for, your brother? You know things aren’t like that anymore…"
"They’re not? And how are they?"
"You didn’t allow him to get close…"
"Are you speaking for him now?"
She presses her lips together and sips her juice. Strange—Isabella drinking orange juice while an absurd amount of champagne spins around the waiters’ trays.
"I still keep that secret, and sometimes I think about telling the truth. I’d really like to know your brother’s reaction when he finds out what you did for Enzo."
"Don’t dwell on that and don’t try to understand. Dominic and I are a handful of maybes, and that’s enough for us to survive in the same world."
She takes a deep breath and loses the hope she carried when she approached me.
"She’s beautiful," she says, changing the subject and nodding toward her friend—my wife.
"The most beautiful… and the champion." I wink at the love of my life, who greets us with a quick wave before taking her position for the performance. "I’m crazy about her."
"It’s so good to hear you say that, and even better to see how well you take care of my best friend. Thank you. Bringing Raica closer has been amazing."
"It was already her plan to take this postgrad course, so I just supported her." I shrug.
"It’s starting…" Isabella warns, and the music begins. Raica and Pietro open the choreography with sensual leg and arm movements.
"She’s perfect!" she exclaims proudly.
Yes, she is.
And I never get tired of declaring my love for this woman every day—how much she’s responsible for the path of light I walk beside her.
"Fuck!" I blurt out, holding my breath as the choreography gains intensity and the guy lifts and spins my wife as if she weighed nothing. God, that part always makes me nervous. "It’s incredible how they orchestrate those moves." I swallow hard.
"Yes!" she yells at me. "Uhuuuuu!" She screams again after an aerial move—one wrong projection and Raica could have smashed her head on the floor. "Sensational!"
The audience goes wild while my chest threatens to burst from a near heart attack. Fine. Okay! Okay! Okay! They manage to be the best in an exceptional way—but did the damn choreography have to be so risky that it makes every muscle in my body tighten until the music finally hits its last note?
"Champions, champions, champions!" The crowd chants in unison as the performance ends.
Only then do I breathe again.
Proud and in love, I join the roaring applause that explodes in the WIS UNIVERSITY gymnasium. It takes a while for the crowd to calm down, and meanwhile, the competing pairs line up along a huge wall.
The host steps in with the envelope and starts thanking the sponsors—the usual blah blah blah. When he opens it, the drums roll loud, and without much delay he announces third and second place, which go to Spain and Cuba. Then, the unnecessary suspense for first place begins.
During that pause, I meet those greenish eyes that shine brighter than any star, and nothing—no one—breaks our intense connection. Bella mouths “I love you,” and I reply, “My heart is yours.” She smiles. I always smile when that girl catches my eyes.
"Raica Whitmore and Pietro Brito are the champions of the World Salsa Trip Championship!"
The explosion of applause pulls us from our private refuge. Watching my wife receive the trophy and the bouquet once again is priceless. I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing this incredible moment twice, yet it always feels new—each victory feels unique.
Pietro takes the microphone and gives a short thank-you speech. Then the beautiful woman, my wife, takes her turn—time pauses, and not a single soul refrains from clapping at her words. She mentions her brother and dedicates the victory to him. Then, with teary eyes, she looks straight at me. Isabella touches my shoulder and hands me a box. I look at the blue package and shrug, confused. Then I look back at Raica.
"This year, it’s not a farewell," she says. "But I’ll be taking a break from competitions…"
The crowd lets out a disappointed “aww.” I don’t understand—Raica never mentioned taking a break.
"Calm down, I have a good excuse—or rather, an exciting reason for this break. We didn’t plan anything… and sometimes the unexpected has the sweetest taste. Right, love?"
I smile and shrug, completely lost. It’s the first time Raica’s thrown me off like this, and I can feel my face burning. The spotlights flicker in my eyes, I realize I’m the focus now—and that the box holds the answer, not just for me, but for everyone.
So I untie the blue satin ribbon, lift the lid, and… my mouth goes dry, my vision blurs, and my heart races—faster, faster, faster. It’s going to burst. How am I supposed to hold the tiny yellow crochet baby shoes without dropping them from my trembling hands?
"Congratulations, Daddy…" Isabella whispers in my ear, and my eyes barely manage to focus—I look at her, then at Raica, then at my parents, all smiling. Sara wears a tender smile, as do my father and my brother. Once again, the applause becomes the deafening soundtrack of the place.
"Go on, cousin—go kiss your wife!" Ruben urges me, as I stand there too emotional to move.
I’M GOING TO BE A DAD AND—FUCK! I’M GOING TO BE A DAD!
I make my way toward my girl, feeling a sublime rush through my chest. Raica was right when she said we hadn’t planned it—actually, she hinted once, casually, asking if I wanted to be a father. Back then, I hadn’t considered it—we were only two years into our marriage.
Her work and study routine were even more demanding than mine, so I didn’t think about bringing a baby into something that already consumed us. I didn’t think about it—just as I never imagined that receiving this gift would make me lose my senses and shake my whole world.
Though, to be fair, this woman already is my entire imbalance—the reason behind my most sincere smiles. Yeah, I’ve become a hopelessly smitten fool.
I climb onto the stage, and my wife runs into my arms. I spin her around in one of those classic romantic comedy scenes—worthy of sighs and all. When I stop and hold her face between my hands, those emerald eyes show uncertainty.
"I know that…"
"It’s perfect, my love! Thank you for giving me a family."
"Nick…"
I silence her with a deep, wet kiss—I couldn’t care less about the crowd.
Nothing will stop me from kissing her.