Chapter 27 #2
I’m not accustomed to his praises nor the shakiness in his voice. It will take some time to become used to the new Hector Cano.
“This is your room.” I guide him into the bedroom downstairs. There’s only a bed, a dresser for his clothes, and a nightstand.
“Thank you. I know I don’t deserve your hospitality, but once I get myself together and find a job, I’ll move back home.”
“Stay as long as you’d like. I think it’s best you do it until you are strong enough not to go back to old habits. I was thinking maybe it’s time you sell the house. Start fresh. When you’re ready, we can clean it up.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, the motion pulling his shirt tight across his newly developed biceps.
“I’d like that. A fresh start.” He nods.
Standing eye to eye, with me, his face softens into a look that makes something unclench in my chest. The smile on his face gives me hope and a sense of peace for the first time in years.
Awkwardly, I say, “I’ll get you a TV for your room tomorrow. Make yourself at home. Eat what you’d like. Cook whatever you want. The remote is on the living room coffee table.”
“Thank you, son.”
I hand him the noise-canceling headphones. “You might need these at some point. They’re Bluetooth; connect them to your phone.” I don’t even know if he knows what that is.
His body shakes with laughter as he waves them at me. “I’ll figure it out.”
“If you hear us shouting, you don’t have to rescue her. I’d never hurt her.” I know my dad has developed a soft spot for Sol.
“I know, Max. You love her like I loved your mother. And she loves you. She proved it when she stepped on my doorstep with a baseball bat, ready to beat the shit out of me.”
“She did?” I laugh, surprised and proud of her.
“Oh, she did. It’s best to stay on her good side,” he suggests, setting his luggage on the bed. “I’m going to bed early. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m beat.”
Before walking out, I say, “You look good, Pops. Keep it up.” The word feels strange in my mouth. Right, but strange. I turn to head up the stairs to Sol.
Opening the bedroom door, I slip off my shoes and place them in the closet, where Sol is already hanging her clothes.
She doesn’t look my way. I wrap one arm around her middle, bringing her to my chest. Her loose blouse falls to the side, leaving her shoulder bare.
The softness of her skin against my lips as I kiss my way up to the curve of her neck sends a rush of blood to my groin.
Goosebumps scatter at my touch. “How far along are you?” I ask, my voice a whisper to her ear.
“Close to four months.”
She was pregnant when she left. Gently, I spin her around. “When did you find out?”
“I was ten weeks when I went to my first doctor’s appointment. That’s two months.”
A flash of outrage flares through me. “You figured you were pregnant, made an appointment, and didn’t include me?
Three months have passed, and you still haven’t bothered to let me know I’m going to be a father.
” I point to my chest, following her out of the walk-in closet. “Did you just not want me involved!?”
Anger whips over her face. “You would have found out if you answered my damn calls!” Her sharp nails are digging into my chest. “I called the day of my appointment. No answer... The night you were out at the ball with that bitch and Carlos, or whoever went. You were too busy to pick up. Not even bothering to call back.” She heaves, walking back and forth.
I haven’t received one call from her. “Don’t lie to me. You know I would always answer you in a heartbeat.”
“I thought the same thing. Then it all made sense that you didn’t have the time for me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask in disbelief. “You have always come first.”
She moves her head side to side. “If that were true, you would have returned every call and come to see me. You didn’t even try to get back with me. I took it as a good riddance. ‘Get the fuck out of my life.’ Your head is a hot mess. You’re too much work.”
My head juts back, making a face. “You didn’t call me.
And I don’t think you’re a hot mess. I knew and know you are going through a lot.
” I pull out my phone. “Here, take it. The only calls from you were when we were together. The text messages I sent were when I wanted to tell you the newspaper article was all fake. There are no messages from you.”
Sol eyes me suspiciously. She scrolls through the phone. She frowns.
“What is it?” I ask.
“My name on your phone isn’t even my number…” She flips it for me to look.
What the fuck?
She keeps scrolling. “Why is my number blocked?”
“Let me see.” Taking the phone from her, I look. My thumb moves quickly through my contacts. Her photo. Her number—blocked. A different number listed under her name. I go to the texts. Every message I’ve sent went to a fake number. Every “call me” and “where are you?” and “we need to talk.”
All of it going to a number that wasn’t hers. She never received any of it. Someone messed with my phone more than once.
I texted her a couple of days ago while I was training in Utah. Never delivered. I figured it was because I was in a remote location. The question is, who was messing with my phone if it’s with me at all times? I unblock her and delete the fake number. “Call me.”
She gets her phone from the bed. She taps on buttons, and then it starts ringing.
I go through her phone. She’s tried calling me multiple times.
“When I find out who fucked with my phone, I’ll ruin them,” I seethe.
“I’m sorry. I’ll figure it out. But first, why didn’t you come to the house?
Every time we ran into each other? It’s not like you don’t know where to find me.
” My voice rises now, adding to the list of reasons to be pissed.
She huffs. “I didn’t know you weren’t getting my phone calls.
I thought you wanted space. Dammit, every time you’re around, you have a phone call and have to leave.
I understand you’re busy now, Max, but…it’s like you’ve pushed me aside.
” She shakes her head. “I went to your house.” She exhales. “You weren’t home.”
“I pushed you aside? You packed your shit and left.”
“Because you deserve better than me!” she yells.
The words sit between us. I look at her.
“Says who?” My voice comes out quieter than I intend.
“I love you. I have never once made you feel less deserving. If I have…tell me, and I will correct it. I’ll make sure to never make you feel that way.
” She’s already told me this—that I deserve better. How wrong can she be?
“There have been days I wished I didn’t remember some parts of my past. Maybe just the good ones.
But…him beating you… I can’t get that out of my head.
” She points at her chest angrily. “I wake up at night with cold sweats, the vision of that monster’s face, hitting you and Drake.
Your back is covered with scars that I caused.
” Her chin trembles, and tears run down her face.
I stop moving. She’s been carrying this since she was a child, watching something happen that she had no power to stop. I wish I could erase those memories from her head. I’m glad that asshole is dead. I kiss every painful tear.
“You didn’t cause anything.”
“I know that now, Max, but at the time, I was at my weakest. Finding out I was pregnant is what saved me. It gave me hope and filled the emptiness in my heart I was beginning to feel.” She slowly lifts her head to look me in the eye.
“What if one day you tire of looking at the past and want someone who doesn’t take you there? ”
I look at her for a long moment. The woman who had paid for my father’s recovery without telling me. Who had Mi Tesoro tattooed on her wrist, the name I call her, the same way I have hers written on my knuckles.
“Who isn’t a reminder of what you went through?” she adds.
“Sol,” I say. “You are my past, but not how you think. You are the best part of it. You’re the only reason I have a future.”
Now I know what those nightmares were about. She would whimper in her sleep. It’s my fault. I thought what she needed was space. It only made it even more difficult for her. I should have been persistent in helping her with what she was going through.