Work Text:
Jorge is most certainly, not staring.
He’s only harmlessly observing the way Thony bounces around so easily since her and Luca moved in, as if she’d always belonged here. She was always up earlier than him most days, making sure the kids get something to eat before school. When they get home she helps them with their homework and activities they’re interested in. The way she speaks to them without raising her voice, even when Luca drags his feet and Violeta pretends not to hear her name.
Jorge watches it all from a careful distance.
It wasn’t an easy transition for him though. Opening up his home and Violeta’s life to someone new. For the longest time the house felt haunted, not in a frightening way, but in the way grief lingers around unsure of where to go after it’s been invited to stay too long. Like a ghost.
For years Jorge believed that ghost was Vanessa. It was her clothes in the closet, her jewelry that still sits on the dresser untouched, apart from her ring that Thony now wears. All her knickknacks that she kept around the house. He never moved them. He could never bring himself to do it. Letting go felt too much like erasing her.
But with Thony here, it’s different. The ghost feels…restless. As if something is finally asking to be acknowledged. Is Thony replacing her? The past is getting further and further away from him and now ready to present something new; like it’s ready to move on.
Is he?
He finally understands when he realizes just how different Thony and Vanessa are. She was everything Vanessa was not. It’s not a downplay to his late wife, the thought doesn’t feel like betrayal so much as the truth. It isn’t better or worse. Just pure difference. There’s compromise if one doesn’t agree with the other. There’s a discussion if something is wrong. There’s no ultimatums and there’s a solution to every problem if they work together. They match hand in hand, they fit.
He tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything.
He most certainly wasn’t staring, like right now. They have a little down time on the weekend and they chose to spend it with the kids. Violeta insisted on a movie night with Encanto always being her first choice. Luca didn’t mind much he loved singing along to the songs.
It was well past eight o’clock and the kids bedtime. That was apparent when they both were sound asleep snuggled in between Thony and Jorge. Thony herself stifled a yawn covering her mouth with her hand.
“Bedtime for us too,” Jorge stated clicking off the tv and carefully gathering Violeta in his arms.
Thony only nodded, too tired to argue and she did the same with Luca and they walked quietly down the hall to put the kids to bed. Jorge finds himself getting used to this.
They brush their teeth in silence, companionable rather than awkward. With ease and comfort.
“You’ve been having problems with your back.” Thony commented when they enter the bedroom. She starts removing the decorative pillows and placing them on the arm chair.
Jorge waved her off unfolding the throw blanket for his spot in the couch. “Nothing a few pain pills can’t cure. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah and then you’ll regret saying that when you’re well in your sixties and you can’t even stand up straight. Trust me I’m a doctor. Sleep up here tonight and thank me in the morning.”
Jorge turned and looked at her and she looked as if she hadn’t said anything wrong. So nonchalant pulling back the covers and snuggling down to her side of the bed. When he hadn’t moved yet Thony just gave him a pointed look and one raise of an eyebrow and there was no room let to argue, he wouldn’t win anyway. Didn’t want to.
He joined her and switched out the light on the lamp. He could still make out her silhouette with the soft glow of the moonlight peaking in from the curtains. His eyes scanned the curve of her body as she laid on her side, back facing him. Jorge wanted to reach out and curl his arm over her waist and pull her close to his chest.
He remembers all those nights with Vanessa when the very thought of going to sleep without holding her left him restless. Here he was wanting to do the same thing to a completely different woman but it gave the same feeling. He felt the strong urge to do it but instead he laced his hands together and placed them behind his head.
The soft bedding did feel great on his sore back and he was drifting off to sleep when Thony softly said, “I meant what I said you know.”
Jorge turns his head towards her and notices she’s now facing him. “What do you mean?”
It takes her a minute to respond. Her eyes look far away as if she’s remembering something. “Luca and I were having a conversation and he asked me why did I marry you and I told him one of the reasons was because you kept us safe and you have. All the guns here still scare me but if no harm has come to Violeta by them being here then I guess I can get used to them for now, so thank you.”
Jorge was stunned for a brief moment, not expecting her to admit that. With Vanessa it still would be an argument and her once again giving him an ultimatum about getting out of the cartel for the well being of their daughter. But everything he was setting up was for the well being of his daughter, their family. If Thony could see that then why couldn’t Vanessa?
“I promised I’d always keep you safe and I meant that. That wasn’t just words.”
She nods, eyes already closing. He wants to say more—it’s on the tip of his tongue. How scared of these feelings he has. What it means for them, their family. Their hearts. The longer the silence stretches the more scared he gets.
“Thony, what was the other reason?” He asks softly instead and waits with bated breath for her response. When the silence drags on a little too long, he looks over at her again and sees she’s fallen asleep. Her features softened and unburdened. Peaceful in a way that makes something tighten painfully in his chest.
In the morning Jorge finds himself not in his original position.
Instead from his chest down he’s warm and aware of the body pressed against him. His arm is curled over Thony’s waist and her back is pressed against his chest, fitting perfectly in the space of his arms.
But the main thing that gets him is that she’s got his hand close to her chest and their fingers are laced together. He could feel the faint thump of her heartbeat against his fingers.
He’s in no rush to move or untangle himself from her. He lets himself have this and he buries his head into the crook of her neck and pulls her closer and there’s no signs of protest from her, just a gentle squeeze to his hand and Jorge closes his eyes.
He doesn’t call it love. But he knows, finally, that he’s already falling.