Page 66 of Until I Find You

“And what are those facts, Jack? Enlighten me.”

I don’t want to do this. Not here, not ever. But he’s given me no choice. “I was a mistake. And neither of you ever got over that.”

Anger washes over my father like an eclipse. In the past few years, he’s softened. Become more compassionate and patient. But a leopard doesn’t change its spots. The brash and temperamental man still exists in him, even if he’s dormant most of the time. “You come here to ask me for a favor and then you insult me like that?”

“I offered to lease the property,” I say without inflection.

“Dammit, Jack, that’s not–” He slams his empty glass down on the table between us.

I jump and so do nearby club members minding their own business.

The room is silent for a mere moment, only the tinkling of classical music flitting through.

It takes a moment for time to return to normal again, but once it does, my father steadies his breath and along with it, is roiling temper. “That’s not thepointI’m trying to make.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I’ve apologized for the way I was back then. And if you need me to apologize again, I–”

“I don’t want you to apologize again.”

He swallows and pinches his lips together. “I’m your father, Jack. I love you.”

“I know,” I say. “That’s your duty as a parent.”

“God fucking dammit,” Dad mutters, running a hand over the lower part of his face and looking askance. His eyes are glossy.

I swear to god if I have another parent cry on me while I’m trying to tell them they’ve hurt me, I’m going to lose it.

He drops his hand and along with it, his head. “Look,” he croaks. “Let’s not do this here. Let’s leave it and we’ll talk another time when I’m not so taken off-guard. All right?”

I give him a curt nod. “Fine with me.”

My father makes no move to go, so I swig the last of my whisky, place it on the table next to his glass as delicately as I can. A contrast. Because I am not my father’s son. And I’m not my mother’s son. I belong to nobody.

As I walk off, not sparing my father even a glance, I realize that it is not wholly true that I belong to nobody.

There is someone who needs me. A beautiful woman who has given me so much just by existing.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and return to my string of messages with Camilla and type out my response.

Good girl.

14

CAMILLA

After wakingfrom my Jack-induced coma, I throw on some clothes and get to work on finding my mother. I’ve been neglecting the search for far too long.

“How are things going?”

“You know, the engineering thing? Yeah. it kind of fell through there.”

“How many women called Juana Gonzalez are engineers, Dave?”

“I’m working on it, I’m working on it…she might not be employed right now, you know?”

Yeah, I know. She might be any number of things. She might be unemployed, she might be in a different country, hell, she might be dead. I don’t fucking know. That’shis job.

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