Chapter 31
Max
I’ve been playing this video on repeat for the last twenty minutes. I watched it for the first time with my jaw loose. The second time was a blow to the gut. By the twelfth time, I was enraged.
The footage is dated three months ago. Like she knew exactly how long she had.
I set my phone in Carlos’s office, and the second I left, Annette walked in.
Not hesitating. My phone has a lock screen, but I’d left it unlocked.
She walked in the second I left, it hadn't locked yet. I lean closer to the screen.
She’s in my contacts. Sol’s number. Blocked. My jaw clenches when she opens my photos. She goes through all the photos of Sol and me. And stops at Sol’s nudes. Fucking psychotic bitch.
Then I skip to weeks later. I always leave my stuff in Carlos’s office, thinking nothing of it.
On this one, it has me questioning so much.
I walk out of the office to train. Annette walks into the office, rushing for my phone.
She checks my messages, she goes through each one, and stops at my text with Sol.
Then she changes her name, then makes a new contact with Sol’s name and a fake number.
Carlos walks into the office. Annette doesn’t even flinch.
She keeps looking, doing what she’s doing.
Carlos watches her. She tells him something, and he laughs.
I zoom in to see what she’s showing him, and it’s what she did, changing my contacts.
He knew all along… I exhale, running a hand over my face.
I stand and look out the window, for I don’t know how long.
I’ve been in this man’s gym since I was sixteen.
I called him when I didn’t know who else to call.
I have sat across from him and taken his advice like it was scripture.
Then, I think about what Sol had said. Someone is always calling.
He’s been telling me to give her space, and I took his advice, but then he’s trying to set me up with Annette.
Why the sudden change? I don’t fucking get it.
I won’t mention this to him now, but first, I’m going to get Gary to follow him.
The pit of my stomach twists. Now I don’t feel comfortable having Sol around Carlos, not until I find out what is going on.
I click the X and lock the computer screens in my office.
He’s always known what my girl has meant to me, yet he’s consistently driven a wedge between us.
And Annette’s behavior? He found it endearing.
I can still see his hand on her back, that approving pat.
The crack in my chest, the one I’ve been carrying for years, the one I stitched shut with work and fighting and building something from nothing…
deepened. I counted him among the few I could trust. I was wrong.
Now, without even realizing it, he’s finally shown me where he stands.
It has me wondering whether he was part of the media article that stated Annette and I were a couple.
For sure, he was the one who set up the dinner.
He told me himself, saying Sol wanted to move on.
I lock up and walk to my car, where Gary and Johnny are waiting. I gave them yesterday off and planned to give them today off as well.
“Hey, boss.” Gary juts his chin at me.
“Congratulations on the baby.” Johnny grins stupidly. Of course, he knew all along. I doubt she kept it from him.
“Thank you.” I pull out the note I stuffed in the pocket of my jeans.
“We have a switch in tasks. I need one of you to drive my dad around, so he doesn’t come close to alcohol.
He will need to be driven to his AA meetings and therapy.
I’m going to have to find him a job somewhere to get him out of the house, or else he will go crazy.
I’m just not sure yet. And the other thing…
Let me know if you’re not okay with it, but I need Carlos followed without his knowledge.
I have this…strange feeling I’ve never felt before.
” I exhale. “I just looked over the surveillance of the gym and found out Annette sabotaged my messages and calls so Sol wouldn’t get a hold of me, and I couldn’t get a hold of her.
The shit that throws me off is that Carlos knew what she was doing.
And he acknowledged he was okay with the shit she was doing to my woman. ”
Johnny’s smile fades when I get to the part about Annette and the phone. Gary’s jaw tightens. Neither of them interrupted. They’ve grown to love Sol, and her protection is no longer just a job to them. “Then he must know she’s pregnant.”
I tilt my head. “How?” My brows dip.
“The day at the restaurant. Sol punched her for taking those photos of you…intoxicated.”
I sigh at the remembrance.
“Annette was about to punch her, but I stepped in to tell her she’s pregnant. Annette’s eyes widened. I have no doubt she told Carlos. After all, he was okay with her messing with your phone.”
I run my hands through my hair, yanking on it…thinking.
“Do you think Carlos would hurt her?” Gary asks.
“I…I don’t think so. I’ve known Carlos for years. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone. Or give the impression he would. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to protect Sol and our baby. I don’t trust Annette, and it seems Carlos has taken a liking to kissing ass with her.”
“Who’s going to drive her around?” Johnny asks while taking the note with Carlos’s home address from my hands.
“I am. Let’s keep this quiet. I don’t want to worry Sol.
It could cause stress to the baby.” I unlock my car.
“I feel guilty for doubting Carlos and doing this, but I can’t ignore the sudden gut instinct.
I’ll be damned if I let anyone fuck with my life.
If he has done anything to hurt my girl, he will answer for it.
And Annette, I have something coming for her.
I already warned her not to mess with my future wife. ”
“Are you going to put a ring on that finger?” Johnny asks with a dopey smile.
“I intend to. Ever since the day she initiated it with a pinky promise,” I say, “I knew I’d make her my wife someday.” I’ve been planning for this moment for so long. I’d been terrified it wouldn’t happen. Now I just had to make sure nothing got in the way.
The last three days have been incredibly busy.
I’ve been picking up and dropping Sol off at work, school, and therapy when she has it, plus running my own errands and working.
I haven’t taken her to the gym with me just yet.
I needed to get a feel of Carlos and Annette before I bring her in with me.
The only thing that makes me feel better about leaving her at home is that my dad is there.
It’s taking some getting used to having him there.
We don’t talk much. It’s always small talk, but it’s something.
He’s been silently cursing while using the espresso machine.
You can only hear him mumbling. I went out and bought him the simplest machine, a Mr. Coffee.
I would rather have him drinking endless cups of coffee than alcohol.
Every night, he sips his coffee while I settle beside Sol, who tucks herself against my side, nestled under the weight of my arm.
I still can’t fathom the feeling of having him in my home.
Sober. He keeps telling stories about my childhood and about my mom.
Like, one where we went camping. The brakes on my bike locked, I screamed, and my dad ran at a speed I’ve never seen him go.
My mom screamed, “Save him, Hector.” My dad yanked me off just in time before my bike hit the tree.
We both fell to the ground, and my mom rushed to our side with her hand on her chest.
Sol said, “I wish I could have met her.” Then she asked, “Where did you take her on your first date?”
My dad lit up and went on for hours talking about it.
I even caught myself grinning. I’ve never heard how they met.
I was too young at the time to ask. His face is different.
I don’t even know how to describe it. Glowing, maybe.
Is that even such a thing for a man? He’s lighter.
He doesn’t have that pain and anger in his voice.
He’s calm, too calm. I’m not used to it.
At times, I want to rile him up, fucking shout at him so he can shout back and tell me I’m the reason my mom’s gone.
It’s sad, really, because that is the version of him I became familiar with.
I tell myself this is him finally grieving, learning to let go of the anger and the bitterness.
I wonder if he’s just found a new way to hold on, to keep her alive through these memories he won’t stop sharing.
The truth is, I’ve been starved to hear them.
I hold on to as many as I can. The older you get, the more those memories slip away. Then some we do retrieve.
His memories of me warm my chest. I tuck those memories into the darkest corner of my chest. Why try to remember them when that life is gone? In the blink of an eye, I was standing in a stranger’s home. A bare minimum of my belongings, and as time passed, I kept fewer of those memories.
I open the front door, coming in from my evening jog.
I decided not to train at the gym with Carlos today and just run.
I stand in the kitchen in my sweaty clothes.
My father tosses items in the blender. In my kitchen.
Whistling. The blender is on, and the TV is on with a Spanish soap opera.
It’s been years since I’ve seen a novela. I think it was when my mom watched.
The blender screams like a jet engine, drowning out the TV where a woman in a white dress slaps a man’s face.
I blink. The last time I watched a novela, my mom sat on the couch, with a snack in hand.
My dad’s silhouette moves in the kitchen light.
He pours something into a large bowl, wrist rotating.
He lifts his head. “Max, how was your run, mijo?”