Milo's Journey

Chapter 22: Held

Diego walked out of the museum arm in arm with Jose. He had noticed that Jose had gone quiet toward the end of their conversation, so he thanked Coquí for his help and made the excuse that they needed to be somewhere else. After a quick goodbye, he gently ushered Jose toward the exit.

As they stepped back out into the sunshine, Diego glanced over at Jose. After a moment, Jose nodded and offered a small smile. Diego took a deep breath, then walked over to the car and opened the door. After Jose got in, Diego climbed in behind him.

Putting on his most cheerful voice, Diego greeted Jose’s mother.

“Thanks so much, Doña Aurora. This was really helpful—the curator was an expert on the Taíno. Jose and I learned so much.”

Diego ran interference for Jose, giving him time to settle.

“Good. I’m glad,” Aurora said, looking at her son. “All good, mijo?”

Jose nodded and smiled.

“Okay, boys—where can I drop you off before I head back to the clinic?” Aurora asked as she put the car in gear and guided it out of the museum grounds.

Diego glanced over at Jose before answering.

“It’s okay if you drop us at Milo’s,” he said. “We promised to get together with him and Adriana this evening. And don’t worry—Adriana’s father will give us all rides home, so you won’t have to pick Jose up.”

“All right,” Aurora said easily.

As the car sped forward, Jose sought the comfort of Diego’s presence once again. Diego put his arm around him and remained silent.

Jose closed his eyes, and within a few minutes, he was asleep.

Diego nudged Jose gently as they turned up the drive to the farmhouse. Jose opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times, reorienting himself. Diego rubbed his back and smiled.

Diego looked up at the farmhouse as the car continued up the drive. He could see Milo and Adriana sitting on the steps, watching as the car approached. He sighed, releasing the tension he had been holding. He knew Jose needed Milo right now.

As the car came to a stop, Diego watched Milo and Adriana walk over to speak with Aurora. Diego and Jose got out, moving around to the driver’s side. Jose smiled at his mother.

“Thanks, Mama, for dropping everything when I called. I love you,” Jose said softly.

“Mijo, anytime you need me, I will be there,” Aurora said. “That is the promise I made to you the day you were born, and I’m not about to break it now. Te quiero, mijo.”

Aurora put the car in reverse and slowly turned down the drive, heading back toward the main road.

They all watched the car as it grew smaller in the distance. Milo quietly stepped closer and stood beside Jose, taking his hand. Diego had already put his arm around Adriana and softly kissed her cheek.

As they turned back toward the house, Diego took Adriana’s hand. Looking over at Milo, he said, “Do I smell sancocho?”

Milo just laughed.

Adriana slapped him lightly on the arm. “Do you always think with your stomach?” she said with mock indignation, a whisper of a smile on her lips.

Diego thought for a moment, then said, “Well, yeah.”

He pulled Adriana toward the house, opened the door, and ushered her inside. Adriana giggled the whole way.

Milo smiled as he watched them go. Then, looking over at Jose, he realized he hadn’t said much since his mother had left. Milo still held Jose’s hand, but now he sensed the tension in that connection.

He pulled Jose to him, wrapping his arms around him, and for a moment simply held him—allowing the contact, the rhythm of their breaths, sharing space together.

Milo felt the release as the tension flowed away. He knew this was the moment Jose could express what he had been carrying since getting out of the car.

Milo stepped back, still holding Jose’s hand. Looking into his eyes, he said three words: “Walk with me.”

Jose nodded.

Natalia turned as she heard Adriana and Diego enter the kitchen. She laughed when she saw the look on Diego’s face.

“I see you smelled the sancocho.”

She grabbed two bowls and began to ladle the fragrant soup into them.

Adriana went to the sideboard and cut several pieces of crusty bread, which she brought over and placed on the table. She and Diego sat down and began to eat the soup, relishing the flavors of home and comfort in every bite.

Jose leaned back against Milo, his eyes closed, relishing the warm strength of Milo’s arm around him. They sat in silence as the sun made its slow retreat behind the mountains. Milo remained quiet, letting his presence soothe the ache he had sensed in Jose since he got out of the car.

There was no hurry. Milo knew that whatever was weighing on Jose needed space to surface, so he waited—patience and presence melding into comfort.

Jose reached up and took the hand that was gently stroking his chest; he simply held it. The connection—a promise. A promise to always be there, a promise to be shelter and home, a promise to always be steady.

Suddenly, tears started falling. Jose didn’t know why he was crying, but it felt like something had ripped a hole in his chest. The ache of loss threatened to overwhelm him. He held onto Milo’s hand like it was a lifeline, keeping him from being swallowed by grief.

Milo pulled Jose closer, wrapping his arms around him and holding on. He didn’t speak. He didn’t try to soothe the tears or question why they came. He didn’t look for a reason for Jose’s reaction. He just held him and let it happen.

It tore at Milo’s heart to hear the sobs and anguish rising from Jose. He held him, communicating all his love through the simple gift of his presence—bearing witness to the pain.

Milo felt it—Jose’s body releasing, as if he could no longer focus on keeping himself upright. Milo took the weight, using his own body as support.

Milo lowered himself to the ground, lying on his back and pulling Jose with him. Drawing him close, he used his own body as protection, wrapping him in safety.

Now he waited until the storm passed. He stayed, present—witness to the pain.