Chapter 4
Bizarre to think that my diagnosis of PMOS was the driving force to find my biological father.
After enduring the type of pain that left me bedridden for days on end and intense bleeding that left me utterly convinced I was going to die during my periods, I found a gynecologist who finally took my symptoms seriously.
Without the help of Dr. Kennedy, I’d still be suffering in silence today. It was also thanks to her that I learned many medical professionals believe that PMOS could be a hereditary condition.
Not that my mother would discuss such matters. When I attempted to ask her about it when I was first diagnosed, she was horrified that I even thought she would suffer from such a thing.
Silly me to think that anything could be wrong with Sophia Garcia.
After all, she was the human description of perfection. Totally and utterly flawless. Mary-freaking-Poppins, practically perfect in every fucking way.
But it got me thinking. If my PMOS was possibly passed down through my family history, what else could there be?
Half of my biological DNA was a mystery to me.
As a child, my mother told Maya and me that our biological father walked out the year I was born. She claimed he wasn’t ready for the house, wife, and two-point-five children lifestyle. He wanted his freedom, and we were a dead weight he wanted to offload.
According to her, we should have been grateful not to be associated with him. I remembered the day she told us never to go looking for him, that it would only hurt us trying to find the man who didn’t want us. Especially as we had Fernando to fill his slot.
Yeah, fucking right.
With the helping hands of Family Tree DNA Testing, it turned out to be surprisingly easy to track my biological father down. It took them less than three weeks to find a direct match, and it took me less than three days to track him down to New York.
All that good luck led me down a path I was forbidden from venturing upon, right to Nicholas Hamilton.
However, that was when my good luck ran dry.
“Good morning, Livi,” Delia beamed from behind the reception desk. “We didn’t think you’d be visiting until Friday.”
“I was in the area for a work thing,” I half-lied behind a smile. “Thought I’d pop in and see how he is doing today.”
Delia’s eyes softened. “He is doing good. A better day than yesterday, that’s for sure.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Nothing for you to worry yourself about,” she assured. “He was a bit upset, got himself into a fluster, but we calmed him down.”
“Why didn’t anyone call me?”
“The instructions on his care packet said you’re only to be contacted in an emergency,” she explained.
Because it’s the only care package I can afford.
“Livi, it was fine. The whole thing was taken care of and handled in less than thirty minutes.”
I nodded stiffly, the rooting seed of guilt burying deeper in my intestines.
“He’s in the gardens right now with some of the other residents. If you’re quick, you might be able to snag yourself some of the homemade lemon cake I baked for everyone.”
My heels echoed through the silent halls as I headed to the gardens at the rear of the building. No matter how many times I came here, the swirls of nerves in my gut refused to give up.
The mid-morning sunlight kissed my cheeks. The smell of freshly blooming tulips welcomed me as I stepped outside and spotted Nicholas instantly.
He sat on a wooden bench, his eyes closed, and his chin tilted upwards toward the early afternoon sun.
Watching him, it struck me how much Maya looked like him. Everyone said I had the uncanny resemblance to my mother—hurray for me!—unlike Maya, who used to cry about looking different from us.
At least she definitely looked like our biological father and not like the creepy mailman I used to joke about being her real dad when we were teenagers.
“Hi,” I said, taking a seat beside him. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
He nodded, his eyes remaining shut. “No rain today.”
“No rain predicted for the next two weeks. Two weeks of pure lovely sunshine.”
A line etched between his brows. “That’s not good. The flowers aren’t going to like that.”
It had been a year since I found my birth father, and to think of the man I tracked down then compared to the man I was visiting now—it was night and day.
When I showed up on Nicholas’ doorstep, ready to yell and scream at the man who abandoned us, I wasn’t prepared to be met with open arms and tears.
He was the complete opposite of my mother.
Nicholas begged for my forgiveness for not fighting harder to be involved in our lives.
He claimed his young naivety resulted in him letting Sophia take us away from him for good.
It turned out Nicholas and my mother never married, and when he couldn’t provide the lifestyle my mother wanted as her modelling career started to take off, she was the one who kicked him out.
He swore he tried to stay in our lives, that he fought to the best of his ability, but the second my mother started her relationship with Fernando, they used his money and status to push Nicholas out of our lives for good. Fernando even went so far as to get a judge to sign a restraining order.
Though I had little doubt that was likely true, it still hurt knowing that he had given up. That he didn’t do more to be a part of mine and Maya’s lives, but I understood how those with wealth, like Fernando, always got what they wanted.
The second we met, Nicholas promised me that he would do everything in his power to atone for his mistakes.
And he did exactly that, until he got sick.
It started out small. Little things, little details going astray. Nothing too worrisome to start. However, it progressed quicker than anyone could have predicted.
They said it was early onset Dementia, and fucking hell, it was stealing everything from him.
How cruel the world was to hand me the father I had always dreamt about since I was a little girl, on a silver platter, only to snatch it away.
Ignoring my phone vibrating in my cardigan pocket, knowing all too well it was my demon client ringing with a new list of questionable demands, I sat and enjoyed the silence for a little longer.
These visits to Meadowlands were becoming the only place the world stopped.
When I visited Nicholas, there were no expectations, no demands from work, no family members breathing down my neck, only blissful silence.
“Are you my new nurse?” he asked without warning.
Inhaling slowly, I tried to keep my smile straight as I shook my head. “Oh no, I don’t actually work here. I am here visiting.”
“Oh. Who are you visiting?”
“I’m here to visit you, Nicholas.”
“You are?”
I nodded, refusing to let my smile slip. “My name is Livi.”
“Livi.” He repeated my name several times before smiling to himself. “That wouldn’t be short for Olivia, would it?”
“It sure is.”
“That’s a beautiful name for an exceptionally beautiful young woman.”
“Aw, Nicholas, you keep talking like that, and you’re going to make me blush.”
“You know, I’ve always liked the name Olivia,” he said firmly. “Between you and me, whenever I have children, that’s what I want to name my daughter.”
Someone was trying to pull my heart out through my throat. I willed the tears to stay firmly in place, despite the burning building behind my eyes.
I wasn’t sure what hurt more: watching him disappear before my eyes, or knowing that if I had been braver and gone against my mother and found him sooner, I would have had more time with the one parent who didn’t want anything from me except my love.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Kellie whispered when I walked into the building. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer and demanded to wait until you came back.”
It didn’t take three guesses to know who she meant.
Tension steam-rolled through my body; every freaking one of my muscles screamed for a steaming hot shower and the magical fingers of my masseuse.
Walking into my office, I fought every urge to throw my handbag at the back of my own mother’s head. Childish, but she would have deserved my Prada bag messing up her perfect blow-dry.
Her being in my office was anything but a good sign. She never visited me here.
When I started Treasured Moment Events, she wanted it to fail before it even began. She wanted me to come running back to her and beg for her help, to realize that I was wrong for not blindly following the path she laid out for me. But when it started to succeed, she dug her greedy fingers into it.
And thanks to that freaking contract I stupidly signed without legal advice, she now owned seventy percent of the company.
“Finally,” she exhaled dramatically. “Don’t take your…Cristo, where is that from?”
“Where is what from?”
She pointed at my hand-knitted cardigan with bright yellow lemons stitched into the fabric from Sally, one of the residents at Meadowlands. “That monstrosity.”
Clicking my teeth against my back teeth, I silenced my ringing mobile again.
“Honestly, Livi,” she shook her head, “we need to talk about your taste in fashion, because I know I raised you better than this. I know with your sudden body change, you may feel like you need to hide, but I keep telling you that a couple of sessions with my personal trainer will have you back to normal.”
Breathe.
Inhale. Ex-fucking-hale.
“Mamá, what are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d take you to lunch. There’s a delightful new vegan place nearby; their salads have basically zero calories, which is perfect for you.”
“I’m not hungry.” I took a seat behind my desk and loaded up my computer.
“Livi,” she tsked. “Lunch is the least you could do after you refused to return not only my calls but poor Maya’s, too. Whatever you have been doing is not as important as your familia.”
“I’ve been busy with work.” I forced myself to stay calm. “My new client is taking up a lot of my time right now.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
Ursula Melnyk knew exactly what she wanted, and she didn’t give a shit what it took to get it. She simply clicked her fingers and expected every demand to come true.
That’s where I came in.