Page 49 of When Love And Destiny Collide

"Pardon me?" I ask, stunned.

"Oh, don’t play coy with me, you—"

“If you want to leave a message, I’ll be happy to jot it down,” I interrupt firmly, “but do not insult me.”

"Put Noah on the phone," she demands.

"Like I said, I can take a message," I reply firmly.

"Put him on the phone now," she insists, her tone laced with contempt.

"I’ll let him know you called. Goodbye." I hang up, feeling a pang of guilt despite the small victory.

Noah’s voice startles me as he appears at the doorway. "Did she leave a message?"

I hand him the phone. "You might want to call her back. I just hung up on her."

"You hung up on her?" A smile tugs at his lips as he looks at me with an intense gaze.

I nod, biting my lower lip, and he bursts into laughter.

Davey's excited voice and footsteps come rushing towards us. "Mommy! Mommy!"

Noah winks at me before turning to Davey. "Come on, Bud. Let’s call your mom back."

***

At exactly six o'clock, the doorbell rings. Noah steps out of the office with Davey in tow, a warm smile on his face as he glances at me. He opens the door to greet our guest.

"Mr. Cruz," Noah says, extending his hand.

"Please, call me Mateo," Dad replies with a smile. "Hi, Mija."

"Hi Dad," I say, smiling back.

"Come in," Noah invites.

"Hola, Davey," Dad says, switching to Spanish to greet him.

"Hola, Lily's Daddy," Davey replies, switching to Spanglish with a shy grin.

"I smell tomato paste, oregano, and fresh-baked bread," Dad says, his nose twitching as he steps inside. "Are we having spaghetti for dinner?"

"We are!" Davey exclaims, his eyes lighting up. "How did you know?"

"I can smell it," Dad replies with a wink.

Dad and Davey sit together on one side of the table, their laughter filling the room as Noah and I bring out the meal. The aroma of spaghetti mingles with the scent of warm bread, but it's the Brazilian lemonade, chilled to perfection, that catches Dad's eye. As I place the frosty pitcher on the table, his face lights up with a smile, and he exclaims, "You remembered!" The warmth in his voice wraps around me like a hug, making this simple dinner feel extra special.

Dad's charm has clearly won over Davey, and I hope that Noah's charm will do the same with Dad.

Their conversation flows effortlessly—Davey proudly sharing his trilingual skills, Dad discussing his real estate ventures in Yucatán, Mexico, and Noah opening up about his career shift. I sit back, captivated, as the three most important men in my life engage in a lively, animated conversation, each holding their own. It's a moment that fills me with awe and a quiet sense of peace.

“I don’t know too many writers,” Dad laughs. “Meaning, I don’t know any.”

“He wrote under a pen name,” I say, feeling Noah’s fingers intertwining with mine under the table.

“I didn’t realize that was really a thing,” Dad says. “Writing under a fake name.”

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