‘Through My Window 2: Across the Sea’ Ending Explained: Who Dies? Do Raquel and Ares Stay Together?

Netflix’s Through My Window saga continues with the second in a trilogy of sexy and angsty teen angst and sex, Through My Window: Across the Sea. The Spanish movie series, based on novels by Ariana Godoy, stars Clara Galle as Raquel, a girl-next-door type who falls in love-slash-lust with her neighbor, who happens to be rich as hell and one of three brothers named after Greek gods because their abs and traps are sculpted like such. Subtle, it ain’t. But if you’re stocking up on $3.99 wine so you can giggle and gasp and snort through some sordid ‘n’ steamy YA romance, you’re no doubt queuing this baby up.

Before we get to the dishy-dish, let’s catch up: In 2022’s Through My Window, we met Raquel, a high school senior and budding writer whose humble family lives adjacent to a mansion roughly the size of Luxembourg. In that mansion lives Ares (Julio Pena), the frequently shirtless, and only slightly less frequently pantsless, heir to a megacorporation. Through a comically moronic plot contrivance involving stolen wifi, Ares ends up climbing through Raquel’s window so they can do it, kicking off a star-crossed romance that our protagonist documents in a book she titles Through My Window.

Straight talk: These movies exist to show attractive barely legal characters played by slightly older actors softcoring their way through life. We watch with mouths agape as they do banal things in various forms of undress ranging from miniscule swimwear to teensy nightclub garb, before they don their birthday suits for the scenes we’re getting tipsy to see. Sequel Across the Sea goes harder and deeper (sorry) into the Raquel-Ares lustathon before ending on a cliffhanger that’ll leave you drenched in spent pheremonal secretions and praying to your chosen deity for the third movie, Through My Window: Looking at You, hopefully coming soon, dammit (note: it won’t be soon enough; it’ll land sometime in 2024). But until then, here’s the gist of what happens in Across the Sea, including its ending explained in all its sordid, spoilery detail:

Through My Window: Across the Sea plot summary:

When the film opens, Raquel and Ares are together but apart. HOW can this logical inconsistency be TRUE? Well, they’re officially a couple, but Raquel is studying literature at a local university while Ares, having turned down his anointed gig at the family uberconglomerate, is pre-med many leagues away in Stockholm. They text and sext and do it long-distance the best they can – cue sex scenes from their fantasies, because this movie can only go so long without delivering the doinking – but their constant staring-at-their-phones is a major distraction. Although Raquel is constantly being hailed as the next Dostoevsky, or maybe just the next Stephanie Meyer, she’s too scared to send Through My Window: The Book She Wrote About All the Schtupping to an interested publisher. Also, her grades are trash. Ares’ are even worse, and the movie makes a point of showing us a test with a big red F on it so the image is SEARED into our minds and we’ll remember it deep in the third act when it becomes a key plot point. More on that in a minute here.

Mercifully, the semester ends and Ares digs himself out of a sperm-whale-sized funk – why so depressed? Hang on to your hats, true believers, we’ll find out soon – to return to Spain and whisk Raquel off to his family’s seaside vacation home, which is only about the size of Monaco, but twice as gorgeous. They’re about to re-consummate their relationship when everyone crashes their two-person horizontal smashfest, including his brothers and parents and Raquel’s besties Yoshi (Guillermo Lasheras), who’s still crushing hard on her in sullen silence, and Daniela (Natalia Azahara), who can never ever party hardy enough. They all participate in pool parties and yacht parties and beach parties, and in between, Raquel and Ares drop their pants and do the things gorgeous people in movies do when they’re not wearing any pants. Same for their friends and siblings, because we might get bored only watching Raquel and Ares f— over and over and over again.

Things get complicated when we learn how petty both Raquel and Ares can be in their jealousies. There’s this guy Greg (Ivan Lapadula) who’s had eyes for Raquel all school year, and I think the thought crossed her mind that life might be better if she hooked up with this nice guy instead of pining across many miles for the arrogant richboy. And then there’s Vera (Andrea Chaparro), an old friend of Ares’ who arrives late for the party and seems to have spent a lot of time with him recently. She’s extra threatening because she’s bubbly and smart and confident and has known Ares for a long time. Meanwhile, Yoshi and some other characters have affairs and entanglements of their own, but do we give a good god damn about any of them? Nah.

Through My Window: Across the Sea ending explained:

OK, there’s much ado about “the thing with the shirt.” Just as Raquel’s insecurity reaches a boiling point, she sees Vera’s Instagram post in which she looks gorgeously rumpled while wearing Ares’ shirt. This is OBVIOUS evidence that for the 19 hours prior to said selfie being taken, Vera and Ares had sensuously probed each other’s erogenous areas and deeply penetrated each other’s souls. Raquel forces everyone to play spin the bottle and prompts new character Anna (Carla Tous) to give Yoshi a boner that can only be satiated with a hawt bathroom boink. But we don’t care about that – we care about Raquel’s interrogation of Ares and Vera about The Shirt Thing, which drives a big old wedge between them. 

While we wonder if this dreary-ass protag couple will find a way to work through this, Ares’ brother Artemis (Eric Masip) has a whole thing with his family’s housekeeper Claudia (Emilia Lazo) – they’ve been having a secret affair and she’s tired of it being secret and tired of being The Help and they argue and he belittles and fires her but they end up back at her place, where she pours a bottle of milk onto the floor in a highly suggestive fashion, precipitating make-up sex. But do we really care about that, either? Oh god no. We’re more concerned with how Ares will wiggle out of this situation; he explains that he was drunk the night of The Shirt Thing and doesn’t remember what happened. It ain’t good enough. So Raquel dumps his ass.

It’s the night of the San Juan celebration. Ares stays home to mope while Raquel goes to the big bash with Yoshi – who like a total idiot turned down Anna’s invitation to watch the fireworks and create some fireworks of their own – and Daniela, who’s trying to arrange a threesome with Ares’ brother and another boy, whoa nelly. Of course, Raquel bumps into Greg and is about to pin him down and straddle his groinal area when suddenly there arose such a fright. An earlier scene established some bullies who target Yoshi apparently because he’s a quiet, dorky guy with pink hair. Well, they show up again at the San Juan party, and he honks ’em off by stealing one of their motorcycles. They chase after him as he zooms here and there through the dark but then skids off a cliff and plummets into an abyss like Wile E. Coyote.

Does Yoshi die? Will Raquel and Ares get back together?

But it’s not quite like Wile E. Coyote, because Wile E. Coyote never dies after slamming into the ground with a whump and a plume of dust. Ares races to Yoshi and tries to resuscitate him but remember, dude got an F on that one med-school exam. Yoshi’s dead. Kaputskies. Never to breathe again. Raquel’s devastated. At the funeral, Ares blames her for ditching Yoshi to bang Greg, which is the kind of thing that’ll end a relationship FOREVER, so don’t even bother to watch the third movie. Raquel freaks out when she sees Yoshi in the coffin wearing a black suit, because he never, ever wore black. She delivers a eulogy that rips everyone’s hearts out, then she and Daniela put a colorful handkerchief in Yoshi’s breast pocket. 

BUT YOSHI’S SPIRIT IS NOT DEAD. How, you may ask? Does he return as a ghost to watch her grieve by housing an entire pie on her kitchen floor? No! Before he croaked, he acted as Raquel’s quasi-agent and submitted her book to the publisher, who loved it so much it’ll probably eventually become the first movie of this franchise. She’s happy but also sad because she and Ares’ relationship is dead. Kaputskies. Never to schtup again. And get this: Raquel symbolizes things and shit by CLOSING HER WINDOW so he can never come through it. Oh man. That’s serious.

Now, cue our drooling anticipation for the third movie, which will almost certainly be about how Raquel and Ares move on with their lives and find fulfillment with other lovers while she becomes a famous writer and he just lays around being a suck-ass entitled rich kid for the rest of his life. Or maybe they’ll get back together for one last round of schtups. Time to place your wagers!

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.