Silvia exited the Customs Office feeling stunned and a little dizzy. After such an emotional last week in Bariloche, she'd had to go through the long flight that had taken her to another time zone, another season, another country, another culture, another language. She looked around, feeling she was running on fumes and she was about to pass out any moment now.

Jim threw the sign she hadn't seen into a bin to come stand before her, hands in his pockets and a smile under his black cap.

"Looking for somebody?"

Silvia just dropped everything to fall into his arms. He held her tight, kissing her hair, and felt her shiver nonstop. She needed a whole minute to fight back her tears and get a little grip on herself. When he assessed she would be able to walk, he took her hand, grabbed the luggage cart with his other hand, and took both to the parking lot without a word.

Silvia just let him lead the way. She was there, with him, finally. She didn't need to ask where they were going or why. The relief was so much and so sudden, she felt like drunk, numb, incapable of thinking straight. Jim helped her into the truck, poked her nose with one of those warm smiles that felt like a hug and left her there to load her luggage on the backseat.

A moment later, he climbed in behind the wheel. Silvia looked out, both hands limp on her lap. He noticed how pale she was. But what gave him a real clue about her actual state of mind was that she was just out of a twelve-hour flight and she still hadn't lit a cigarette.

"You need to sleep," he said, starting the engine. "I'm taking you home."

She only nodded. He chuckled under his breath and drove out of the airport with the windows down. Not because the quality of LA's air was anywhere near healthy, but he knew the breeze would help her snap out of her catatonic state.

It did. Only five minutes later, she shivered from head to toes, like waking up, and rubbed her face before turning to him.

"Where are we going?"

"Home," he replied softly.

Her frown told him she was sort of back. "Wait. Didn't you say Jo had picked an apartment and I could move in as soon as I got here?"

"Don't you wanna come to my place and move in tomorrow?"

She shook her head.

Jim chuckled again. "Okay. To the ashtray it is, then."

"The what?"

"The ashtray, that's about the size of it."

Silvia smiled, glad. Good thing Jo had taken over the quest for her apartment. But she frowned again when she looked out and paid a little attention.

"We're still on the way to Santa Monica."

"I can't just throw the truck off the highway, woman," he said, amused. "And your ashtray is this way too."

"Oh." Silvia patted her pockets and produced a cigarette and lighter. She seemed to deflate in her seat with the first puff.

Jim was surprised when her hand reached out to rest on his. He took it and kissed her fingers.

"Welcome back, woman," he said, smiling once more.

"It's been quite a trip," she said, nodding slowly. "In many ways."

"I bet. You're still a fucking mess."

"Right?" Her happy grin made him laugh. "Help me think again, Jay. Tell me about the apartment."

He shrugged. "Told you it's small. Too small for my guts."

"How small is that?"

"About the size of your house?"

"Oh, then it's more than fine for me."

"That's what Jo said. It's furnished, one bedroom. I think you're gonna like it."

"And where is it?"

"In a building." They laughed together. "Regular middle-class hood, twenty minutes away from my place."

"That's great."

"And five minutes away from my brother's apartment." Jim winked at her. "In case you need urgent assistance and can't wait twenty minutes till I get there."

"You guys rented me a place around the corner from Sean? Really?"

"You sure you don't wanna come over to my place?"

"You cheater! Never mind. Don't worry, I'm gonna frigging love the neighborhood."

"Bet you will."

Their small talk helped Silvia clear her head, and by the time Jim parked outside a café with a nice five-story building on top, she was already able to appreciate the place and the surroundings, that looked nothing like Jim's fancy neighborhood.

"I definitely like it," she said as they got out of the truck.

And she loved the apartment at first sight, as soon as she walked in. The front door opened to a living area that went all the way to the other end of the apartment. A large window opened to the city there, along with the door to the small balcony, filling the place with daylight.

The open kitchen was on her left, with a white counter that set it apart from the living area to use as a table. On her right, she found a gap with a washing machine opposite to a small closet, on the way to the bathroom. And right past the closet was the only bedroom, with a long window to the balcony. Another room full of daylight and with a great view of the city, decorated in white and navy blue, with a closet to host all her clothes and then some.

The whole place was painted white, full of light, the furniture was simple and functional, the decorations were nice and discreet. It had a sofa and an armchair in the living area, with a coffee table, in front of a big flat TV hanging on the wall of the bedroom. Tall stools before the kitchen counter, sober paintings on the walls.

Jim left the keys on the counter and brought her luggage in while she toured the place, letting out happy interjections. Silvia waited for him in the middle of the apartment with a bright grin and tears in her eyes.

"It's so beautiful, Jim! I love it!" she cried.

He hardly had time to drop her rucksack and open his arms to catch her. And it felt so good, having her there, in town, with him, and that she looked so truly happy.

But everything disappeared the moment their lips met.