Page 77 of The Last Sunrise

“I know you’re in there!” I put my mouth as close to the cabin door as possible.

“Fucking asshole,” I groan, leaning my cheek against the old wood. I knew he would do this eventually; I was warned many, many times. Even by the commitment-phobe himself. But disappearing after everything we’ve gone through up until now? Just to run away? After showing me the home my mother lived in as a child? After telling me he can’t imagine a world where I don’t exist? After telling me he will love me in every lifetime we’re gifted? What a damn joke.

“Julián Garcia! Open the fucking door!” I scream through my burning throat, tears falling down my cheeks.

“Oriah, is that you?” A male voice behind me makes me jump.

I turn to find Mateo, Julián’s father, standing on the dock. His face is drawn and his shoulders slumped.

“He’s in there, isn’t he?” I harshly accuse.

I can’t control my emotions. There’s a hurricane inside my chest, and I’m ready to unleash it and flood everything in my path.

With a sigh he responds. “He’s been in there for days. Engine off, lights off, phone off. I know he’s in there because the boat’s rocked a little, and occasionally the light in the toilet turns on and off.” He rubs the back of his neck, the same way his son does when he’s emotional or trying to regulate said emotions.

“I’m sorry for screaming. I just… I need to talk to him. I need him to talk to me.” It comes out as a plea.

A desperate one, from a desperate woman.

I try to swallow down the anger, attempting to not make Mateo uncomfortable. He must already feel uneasy aroundme, with my eyes and nose reminding him of my mother. The woman ruining his life nearly since it began. The woman just days away from closing this whole dock down.

“It’s alright.” Mateo waves a hand for me to sit down next to him on the dock. “Come have a seat.”

The wood feels stable under my body, bringing in a little clarity. Just a little.

“I can go, I really didn’t mean to interrupt your day. I’m sorry,” I tell him as he sits next to me. I don’t want to leave without seeing Julián, but I will for Mateo’s sake.

“Stay for a minute. I owe you an apology.” His voice is low, his accent beautifully coating every word.

“An apology? To me?” I shake my head.

He has this backward; I owe him at least twenty thousand apologies. And then some.

“I know my son can be… hard. He doesn’t know what to do when someone cares for him. That’s my fault. I never taught him how to allow love into his heart. I closed mine off so long ago.” He looks past me, probably not wanting to look at the face of my mother.

“You raised him well,” I sigh, meaning it.

“All of our children’s struggles come from their parents.” He does a double take, noting that he’s referring to himself, too, and he clears his throat. A sympathetic look on his face, around the small crinkles of his warm eyes.

“Not meaning your… medical things.” My heart drops as he says it.

So he knows. How much he knows or what details he’s privy to is unclear, but he knows something. He’s had to have known since before I met Julián, but he didn’t tell him?

“You… why didn’t you tell him?” I wonder.

He looks back to the boat where his son is hiding out like a coward.

“It’s not for me to tell. I know you care about him, and sometimes things are better left unsaid until they need to be.” His cryptic response certainly has a double meaning.

What that is, I’m not sure. I’m not sure of much these days.

“If you can love someone through their darkness, their loss of faith, you can love them through anything,” he says, his gaze out on the open water before us.

Its quiet splashing against the wooden deck feels like a gentle caress directed at both of our struggling souls.

“Is that how you loved my mother?” I ask, my filter vanishing into thin air. Before I can apologize, he nods his head slowly.

“I loved your mother with the burn of one thousand suns. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her, and still would.” Tears prick my eyes, and my heart feels heavy as a brick in my chest.

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