Chapter Text
Palawan, after the heists
Sergio’s limbs stroked steady and measured, gliding through the waves. Swimming perpendicular to their beach, he kicked faster, muscles stretching with a satisfying ache.
The rhythmic sound of displaced water lulled him, letting his mind relax and sink deeper. But always, a small part of him remained alert, scanning for danger.
***
His family weren’t there – Raquel was working at their foundation’s shelter while Paula was on a playdate. Marivi was staying overnight with her nurse at the clinic for observation.
Alone in their unbearably quiet house, his thoughts had started banging on his brain, like a door loose on its hinge. He’d tried getting some work done at his desk, but spasms of grief kept pulling at his focus.
Andrés, Tokio, Nairobi, Moscow, Oslo and the other victims of his plans were a constant ghostly presence. That was the true legacy of the heists, not the money, and he dreaded ever having to pay a reckoning for what he’d stolen from them. Especially for convincing Andrés to leave aside Bank of Spain planning and join him in the Mint.
At night, he often dreamed he was back in the hangar, he could hear his brother's voice as clear as day, and woke with a guilt so vast it sometimes felt like drowning.
Getting up, he’d leave behind the soft anchor of Raquel’s body, and walk out to stare at the horizon.
Andrés had always boasted that after the heist, he’d become an even bigger hedonist, travelling the world with parties and fireworks every day. He'd always made fun of Sergio for not knowing what he wanted.
He wished that there was a way to reassure Andrés that he did now. This quiet, peaceful life was a dream. And that he finally understood what his brother had meant when he said in the monastery the only way to love was to live.
***
Reluctantly, Sergio swam back to the shore, his body slowing as his feet bumped the ground. He kicked further, dragging, scratching his stomach along the sand, the tiny grazes yet another of the countless micropenances he used to try and punish himself.
Standing by his things, he began to dry off, the towel scraping the abrasions on his abs, stinging his goosebumped skin.
As he rubbed his chest, he mentally planned the evening. He’d already done the washing and laid the special table settings. The lamb strips were marinating in five-spice and sour sauce. They would eat with Paula, and once their daughter had gone to bed, would move to the porch. Where Raquel would sit in his lap and play with his hair or stroke his beard while they drank shiraz and talked in the warm night air.
The thought made him smile, banishing the shadows, like always.
Suddenly, for a second, he got the feeling of being watched and stilled. It was his only warning
A blur of grey fur catapulted onto his towel, snatched his watch, and darted swiftly away.
“Cat, no!” Sergio shouted, and the fluffy thief stopped and turned, eyes wide like saucers, his tail twitching playfully.
Sergio crouched, holding out his hands, trying to look non-threatening.
“You little bastard,” he muttered softly, “drop the watch.”
Cat stared back at him, then glanced toward the house, clearly weighing his options, as Sergio hummed softly, inching closer with slow, deliberate steps.
“That watch is the most precious thing I own, you wretched creature,” he breathed. “Give it back.”
Crouching as well, Cat eyed him warily, letting him sidle up, just within reach. Then he dropped the watch and immediately rolled onto his back, exposing his belly, a perfect display of false submission.
“Oh, you little sneak,” Sergio sighed, buckling the watch back onto his wrist with a mix of relief and exasperation. He reached out to give Cat’s tummy a lavish pat, which sent the furball into joyful writhing.
“You can't even comprehend what losing this would mean,” he accused his furry nemesis.
Again he felt the feeling of being watched. Shaking it off, Sergio gave a final belly rub and stood up and trudged back toward the house, as Cat streaked past him, up the stairs and inside.
Cat deciding to grace them with his presence put a big obstacle in his plans to spend the evening cuddling on the porch with Raquel. As soon as the stars came out, Cat would crawl into Raquel’s lap and sit there the rest of the night purring possessively, glaring at Sergio, while she indulged and petted their feline intruder.
Turning down the side of the house, a thought flashed across his mind. Was there a humane or ethical way to permanently get rid of the family’s occasional pet, before Paula got home? There probably wasn’t, he'd just have to try and talk her into an early dinner.
Sergio let out a sigh as he opened the door for the wet room he’d built against their outside wall. Three sides were breeze blocks while one was frosted glass louvres, to flood it with soft light and let the air through. There was a tiled shower and sink, below a tall mirror, where he stripped off his shorts and tied a towel around his waist. Cursing the annoying sand, everywhere.
Muscles aching, he flexed and stretched his arms above his head, before standing at the sink to brush his teeth. First came mouthwash, rinsing the traces of saltwater and then a precise amount of toothpaste, and he began his methodical routine, brushing each tooth inside and out, counting them off in his head. Another of his many calm, grounding rituals, and gave his reflection a small, satisfied nod.
The door clicked and he smiled, hearing familiar footsteps, then felt a hand drift down his back. Raquel drew him back, hugged him tightly, as he relaxed into the body he’d know anywhere.
“I was watching you. That was very commanding,” she murmured. “Finally, got Cat to do what you wanted.”
“Hardly,” he said, turning off the tap and placing a hand over hers. “He was never after papa's watch. He wanted tummy rubs all along.”
“Poor Profesor, another disobediant subordinate,” she teased and he hummed. They stood quietly for a while, Raquel wrapped around, hugging him from behind, while he let their syncing breaths flow through him.
“Long swim?”
“Hardly,” he murmured again. “Couple of kilometres, quite slow. You’re home early—everything alright?”
Dappled light danced over her reflection as she peeked around, flashing a smile in the mirror. Then she moved in front to face him, sliding her arms up his chest and looping them around his neck.
“Paula called, her playdate has turned into sleepover. Which means we have the whole house to ourselves.”
Sergio looked over her head at the picture they made in the mirror—the riot of tousled hair against his chest – and down to meet her dancing eyes. He loved when she wore business clothes, the crisp white shirt and suit pants always reminding him of their first meeting. But he valued his sanity too much to ever tell her.
“Maybe I can help you work on your stroke, Sergio?”
He laughed. This feeling, her in his arms, flirting, her fingertips drawing circles on his neck, was the only thing able to override his spiralling brain. The closeness of his brother and the others trailed in the wake of Raquel’s brightness.
Another thing his brother had been right about. It was easy to be dismissive about love, if you've never known it.
“I'm glad you didn’t shower yet,” she said, leaning into him. He felt her pressing kisses to his chest, then her tongue darted out to taste him. “I made it in time to join you.”
“Dinner’s ready, and there’s really nice wine,” he said, hands resting lightly on her hips. Watching her back twist and stretch gracefully as she pressed kisses up his neck, to his jaw. “Are you sure you want to fool around now? In here?”
“For starters, yes. You look unbelievably hot.”
“You mean unbelievably covered in sand,” he said, smiling down at her upturned face. Above her sculptural nose, her pupils were blown wider than the cat’s and when she ran her hands over his chest, he could feel the heat of her skin.
“Yeah but I don't let the sand bother me like you, like this.” Her hands wandered down to caress the scratches on his tummy and quick as a flash, she unhooked his towel and it swished to the ground. “And look, you’re already naked,” she purred, starting to lazily stroke his cock. “Up for a quickie?”
“You know I prefer to make sure we are both are, uh– ” He exhaled sharply while her fingers danced black magic over his fast-hardening cock. “ — sufficiently stimulated and aroused to ensure we both climax.”
“I am aware of your stupid rules,” Raquel said, her bottom lip jutting out in an irresistible pout as she pumped gently, insistently. “But I’m all sweaty from work and need some urgent stress relief.”
He nearly gave in, but given the sand and presence of Cat , he shook his head and detached her hand. “I thought we could eat on the porch early and talk. And, uh, cuddle.”
“You are sweet. And I promise there will be lots of cuddling later.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Right now, I just need quick f–”
“I don’t do quick–
“Efficient.” she interrupted, “Brisk.”
She unbuttoned her shirt, and took his hand, placing it over her heart. Then looked up with a brilliant smile that crumbled all his resistance. “Expeditious, if you know what I mean. Can you help me out, Profesor?”
“Expeditious?” he mused, running his finger over the seam of the beige work bra she thought was plain, but was actually his favourite as it emphasised the constellation of moles across her cleavage. “Very well, then.”
“You won’t regret this, Sergio,” she said gleefully and kissed his lips with a big smack before tossing her shirt aside.
“Face the mirror,” he ordered, watching as the Profesor in the mirror leaned forward and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her trousers. As he began to slide them down, she laughed mischievously and arched her back to brush her ass against him.
It was over three and a half years since their first encounter, and he marvelled how much he was still in thrall to that brilliant smile, that laugh and, of course, her luscious ass. Sergio’s reflection stepped close and wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her against him. Slid his fingers under her bra to stroke the impossibly soft skin, while his lips and teeth dropped to her neck.
“Wait.” Raquel’s head snapped up and she grabbed his wrist, fingering the watch strap. “Sergio, we don’t have to. I’m sorry for being greedy. Are you having bad thoughts? Want to go grab dinner and tell me?”
“Later,” Sergio said, shaking his head and smiling kissing further down her shoulder.
Drifting his hand down to her peach-coloured underwear, his fingers drummed over the damp silk covering her sex.
While he still couldn't articulate emotions like his brother , he wasn’t as stupid as he’d used to be. He’d learned the hard way how life was fleeting.
The grief inside him had remade him, and now he appreciated that every second he got with Raquel and his family was more precious than all the gold in Spain.
And he didn’t mind living with the impossible, ghostly presence of Andrés, Tokio, Moscow and the others as long as they wanted to hang around – they were family too and he owed them.
Life in Palawan may have been a dream, but it was built on a foundation that included their sacrifices. And with every breath, he would keep making it count and remember them.