Chapter 3

Esteban was there, standing about twenty

feet behind me. His dark hair was thick and longer than I

remembered. My eyes skimmed over it appreciatively, and somewhere

in my mind, I remembered touching it. We looked at each other, and

the look somehow bridged the gap. Even from the distance, I noticed

the area around his eyes looked haggard and showed that he had not

slept much, but his dark eyes were bright and I could tell that he

was glad to see me. He wore a stylish suit and a London Fog that I

remembered my father picking out for him not so many Christmases

ago. He raised his hand to me and called my name again.

“Peter!” he yelled.

I smiled, and then I ran to him. I didn't

know how alone I had felt on the plane ride until I reached him. He

grabbed me and pulled me close. I let my face fall onto his

shoulder. I enjoyed the feel of his arms surrounding me and pulling

me in. We stood there for a moment, both silent, breathing into

each other.