Falling for my Enemy's Brother
Chapter 79: Mi Casa

Chapter 79: Mi Casa

"Coffee or tea, miss?"

Merlina blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. The flight attendant’s voice was soft, practiced, like she’d said it a thousand times before. A cart rolled beside her, the scent of freshly brewed coffee curling into the air.

She inhaled.

"Coffee, please."

Her voice came out quieter than she intended. The attendant smiled politely and handed her a paper cup, steam rising in lazy spirals. Merlina wrapped her hands around it like it was the only warm thing left in her life.

Outside the window, the world was a blur of black sky and blinking wing lights. Belford was far behind now, swallowed by the clouds. She imagined the campus lights fading beneath them, the laughter in dorm hallways, the library corners that held too many secrets.

She sipped her coffee, staring into the dark like she could leave her memories behind somewhere over the Atlantic.

This trip back home was supposed to be her escape. Her reset button. But her heart was still racing, like she’d forgotten to pack something important. And maybe she had. Maybe she left behind more than just clothes and textbooks.

Her feelings.

Her guilt.

Her half-finished investigation.

She dragged her hoodie tighter around her face like a shield. Not even what Keith had said had been enough to stop her from boarding this flight. She needed space. Space from the Lesnars, from her complicated relationship with Louis, from the haunting questions about her mother. Winter break felt like the perfect excuse to leave it all behind.

The plane touched down smoothly. Merlina peeked outside, Christmas trees wrapped in fairy lights, a giant inflatable Santa swaying gently in the breeze. A glowing ’ Feliz Navidad’ sign stretched across the airport entrance.

Christmas in San Jose wasn’t magical, but it had heart.

And just like that, she was home again.

The taxi ride felt like flipping through an old photo album, familiar, but kind of faded. The streets she used to know like the back of her hand looked a little smaller now, the houses seemed packed a little tighter together. Porch lights blinked in red and green, some doors had Christmas signs hanging on them. A few kids were running around with hot chocolate mustaches and glitter in their hair.

It all looked exactly the same, just not quite how she remembered.

And then, there it was.

Her house.

Beige walls. Red roof. And the wind chimes tapping gently by the window like no time had passed. Her heart ached, just a little.

Happy memories came back, her mom putting up decorations that wouldn’t stick, singing Christmas songs out of tune, and making them wear matching pajamas even when Merlina and Alistair didn’t want to. Their tree was always a bit crooked, and the star was never straight. But at least it was their tree, their moments.

Now it just felt empty.

She got out of the cab, her suitcase wheels making noise on the stone path. At the porch, she stopped. The flowerpot by the door, where her mom always kept white petunias, was still there. But the dirt was dry, and the flowers looked dead, like no one had watered them in a long time. Merlina bent down, gently touched one dry leaf, then sighed and shook her head.

She raised a fist and knocked twice on the door.

For a moment, there was only silence, just the faint hum of the neighborhood around her. Then, a small click sounded as the peephole slid open.

"No way... Merlina?" Melissa’s voice whispered through the door, disbelief clear.

Before Merlina could say anything, the door suddenly swung wide open, and Melissa came flying at her like a cannonball, arms wide, her voice cracking with excitement. "What the hell? You didn’t tell us you were coming!"

Alistair appeared a second later in socks and pajama pants, hoodie half-zipped, blinking like he was dreaming. "Wait, what? You’re home?!"

"I thought you guys might want a Christmas surprise," Merlina said, grinning as both of them wrapped around her like an overexcited octopus.

"This is the best day ever," Melissa squealed.

Alistair pulled back, mock glaring. "Okay, but seriously? You couldn’t even give us a heads-up?"

"And miss out on this priceless look on your face?" Merlina teased.

"Yeah, speaking of my face," Alistair rolled his eyes and glanced at his reflection. "Thanks to Melissa’s horrible cooking, I’m breaking out like a damn cactus. You’d think she’s trying to poison us or something."

Melissa shot him a glare and jabbed him in the ribs. "Please, your face was a lost cause before I stepped into that kitchen. Maybe try washing it for once."

They all laughed as they stepped inside, the old familiar warmth settling around them.

Even if it had only been a few months, it felt like years. Her siblings, her constants. Merlina was just a year older than Alistair, who was only a year older than Melissa. Their mom used to joke that she "speed-ran motherhood" so her kids could grow up close, stuck together like glue.

And they did.

Even after losing her, they stayed that way. A tiny, slightly dysfunctional unit with bad jokes and loud arguments and way too much sarcasm. But love? Always.

As they led her inside, Merlina noticed the house looked different. The furniture was moved around, and the beige couch was now a deep green. Family photos were no longer all on one wall, they were spread out on shelves and tables. Bright pillows and a new rug made the room feel fresh. Even the curtains were lighter, letting in more sunlight. It was clear Fiona had been busy redecorating.

But despite the changes, the house still felt warm. A comforting change from the cold feeling Merlina had been carrying since Belford.

For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe again.

In the middle of their chaotic, giggly reunion, Melissa trying to tug Merlina’s suitcase upstairs while Alistair swore she was stealing it, the front door creaked open again.

"Can someone help with the..."Their dad froze in the doorway, grocery bags in both hands, eyebrows raised.

Merlina turned, still laughing, and their eyes locked.

"Merlina?" he blinked. "You’re... home?"

She offered a sheepish smile. "Hi, Dad."

He stepped inside quickly, setting the bags down on the console table by the door. "Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve picked you up from the airport. Or at least cleaned up a little. I thought we had more time before..." He paused, then gave her a real smile, the kind that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle. "Come here."

She walked into his hug, and for a second, everything stilled. Her dad still smelled like cologne and laundry detergent. He still hugged too tight. She didn’t realize she missed it until she was in it.

"You look tired," he said, brushing her hair back a little. "But happy."

"I’m both," she admitted.

"I still got your favorite cereal," Melissa called from the kitchen. "Unless Alistair already ate it!"

"Don’t even start," Alistair shot back.

Her dad rolled his eyes fondly and let her go. "Welcome home, mija."

Later that evening, as the sun set and the house glowed warm, they gathered around the dinner table. The dining room still had the same table runner from a couple of Christmases ago. Melissa set the table with mismatched plates, and Alistair lit a single, crooked candle for ambiance. Somehow, it made everything feel more like home.

They were halfway through Melissa’s overcooked lasagna when their dad cleared his throat and set down his fork.

"So," he said, a little too casually. "I have news."

Merlina glanced up. Alistair already had one brow raised.

"This Christmas," their dad continued, "we’re not staying here. We’re going to Mallorca."

"What?" Alistair groaned instantly. "No, no, no. You can’t be serious."

"Yes, I’m serious."

"I am not spending Christmas surrounded by nosy, gossipy relatives who ask me why I’m still single and what I’m doing with my life every five seconds," Alistair added.

"Shut up," Melissa said with gritted teeth. "Mallorca is beautiful. Plus, they’re not that bad," she mumbled, already scrolling on her phone.

Merlina blinked. "Wait, like... Mallorca, Spain?"

She knew that was where her dad had spent part of his childhood, but they’d never actually been there. He was Spanish American, but had taken his mother’s last name, for reasons he never really explained.

Her dad nodded. "Your Abuela’s house. You haven’t seen her in a while. It’ll be nice. And also..." He hesitated.

"Also what?" Alistair repeated, suspicion rising.

"That’s where the wedding’s happening," their dad said, clearing his throat. "Fiona is already there. That’s where we’re getting married. It’s all arranged."

No one said a word. The room seemed to freeze. Forks paused mid-air, eyes darted between one another, and the soft clink of a glass being set down suddenly sounded too loud.

Melissa picked up her cup, only to realize it was empty, then quietly pretended to sip anyway. A fork slipped from Alistair’s hand and hit his plate with a sharp clatter.

Alistair covered his face with both hands. "Oh my God. Worst Christmas ever."

Merlina let out a low whistle. "You’re really doing this?"

Her dad looked slightly defensive. "Yes. I am. And I’d like my children to be there. Respectfully."

"Respectfully," Alistair muttered. "I’d rather eat glass."

Merlina didn’t say anything. She just pushed her food around on her plate and offered the safest thing she could think of.

"Well," she said, "guess we better start packing."

She didn’t have the energy to argue. Not after finding out her mom had been having an affair. She wasn’t even sure if Conor had been the only one. If her dad wanted to move on and find happiness, then no one was going to stand in his way.

Two days later, they had made it. Mallorca, Spain. Merlina stepped off the plane into a December sun that felt more like spring. Palm trees stood where pines should’ve been, and the air smelled like salt instead of cinnamon. It was different. But maybe different was okay.

"Merlina," her Abuela called from the airport gate, arms wide open.

There were kisses on both cheeks, tight hugs, and fast Spanish flying around, most of which Merlina couldn’t understand. The only Spanish she knew came from a three-month tutor she barely remembered.

Their cousins, aunt, and uncle were all there too, laughing, talking over each other, already excited about outfits for the Christmas carnival. Fiona was there as well, smiling like she belonged, helping carry luggage like she’d always been part of the family.

As they drove through winding streets, Merlina caught glimpses of places her dad used to tell stories about—the stone fountain he jumped off and broke his arm, the old soccer field where he once lost a tooth, the bakery where Abuela always burned the rice for Christmas paella because she was too busy gossiping with the owner.

That night, they had homemade croquetas, warm churros dipped in chocolate, and a half-hearted chat about wedding flowers that none of her siblings really joined in on.

Later that night, Merlina sat curled up on the bed in her Abuela’s guest room. The faint jingle of wind chimes floated in through the window, mixing with the sound of a Spanish soap opera playing softly in the living room. Wrapped in a fluffy robe, she was aimlessly scrolling through her phone when a FaceTime call lit up her screen.

Phoebe.

Merlina answered with a small smile. "Heyyy. You’re glowing."

"I’m freezing," Phoebe said dramatically. She was wrapped up in a giant puffer jacket, cheeks flushed from the cold. "It’s snowing like crazy here."

"Where are you again?"

"Lake Tahoe," she said casually, then added, "With Keith... and Craig."

Merlina’s smile didn’t drop, at least not immediately, but something shifted. Her stomach dropped when she heard it. His name. Just the thing she’d been trying to outrun.

"Oh," she said lightly, reaching for her water. "Cool."

Before Phoebe could reply, noise erupted from her side of the screen, laughter, someone arguing over snacks, and then Keith’s voice booming through.

"Yo, where are my gloves?"

"Guys!" Phoebe snapped, turning her head. "Can you keep it down? I’m on a call with Merlina. She’s in Spain right now!"

Keith’s voice grew louder, full of excitement. "Spain? That’s sick." Then he suddenly appeared on screen, standing to Phoebe’s left, grinning. "Hey, Merlina!"

"Hi," Merlina said, forcing a polite smile, trying to sound casual.

Then, without warning, Craig appeared on the right side of Phoebe, silent and shockingly close. His sudden presence sent a ripple of panic through Merlina, her fingers trembling as she nearly lost grip of the phone.