Hancho Steps It Up?

Just when you think you’re about to move in one direction, life has a funny way of asking, “Are you sure?”

Bella was almost certain she was going to leave Hancho. Her bags were packed. The costume was tucked neatly at the bottom. She even bought this gorgeous canteen, thinking she’d be living in the woods for months.

Lo and behold, Hancho came home one evening with a dozen balloons, a Mexican meal from Bella’s favorite restaurant, and a mariachi band. One of Bella’s favorite servers showed up to help. Hancho lit candles, dressed like he was going to a job interview, and waited for Bella to return.

At 7:30 p.m., Bella walked through the door and froze, wondering if she had entered the wrong apartment.

“Come in, come in,” Hancho shouted over the mariachi band.

“What’s this for?” Bella blushed.

“You’ve done so much for me, baby. You took a job so I could spend time at the gym. It’s time I pay you back. Sit down. I have wonderful news.”

Those three-plus hours he spent at the gym every day had caught the owners’ attention. They decided Hancho could be more than a patron. They hired him as a full-time trainer.

“So does that mean you’ll be spending more time at the gym?”

“Not necessarily.” Hancho took a sip of sangria. “I’ll be training with clients. You and I will get home from work around the same time.”

They toasted to Hancho’s new job. They ate, laughed, and giggled as if they were just meeting for the first time. The sangria kept flowing. Four pitchers later, everyone, including the mariachi band, was drunk.

Their server crashed on the couch. The band stumbled out of the apartment and nearly fell down the stairs.

As Bella’s vision spun in circles, she lay in bed listening to Hancho next to her and the server on the couch, both snoring like an entire forest being leveled. Before drifting off to sleep, Bella mumbled, “What the fuck am I doing?”

By the way, if that leather-wrapped canteen I mentioned earlier caught your eye, there’s a link above. If you pick one up, it throws a little change my way. Just promise me you’ll fill it with water, not sangria.