Page 26 of Always You
“What's up, little bro?” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
But I’m not laughing. All I can think of is the red haze that clouds my vision and before I know it, my fist has connected with his jaw. He stumbles backwards, smashing into the toolbox with a clang.
“Fuck what’s your problem, asshole.” He rubs his jaw as his frantic eyes bore into mine.
My muscles seethe with tension. “You lied to me. Mila called you, didn’t she?”
He sighs. “You punched me because of her?”
“Answer me!” I shout so loud that the guys in the shop stop what they’re doing to watch.
“Fuck, what’s your problem, asshole.” His eyes burn into mine as he rubs his sore jaw.
I feel my muscles clenching with anger. “Yes, she called and left messages. We never listened to them, just erased them. Mom said she talked to her, and Mila couldn’t handle your illness. You were a burden. No point in answering her calls if she couldn’t stick around.” A shrug rolls over his shoulders.
Mother fucker.
He collects a wrench twisting a bolt off under the hood. Like it’s nothing. Knowing I had been drowning in misery.
“She was pregnant.”
He drops the tool, his eyes are back on me. He frowns. “She was pregnant,” he repeats.
“Yes, asshole, she was pregnant. That was why she was calling. Mom lied and said she never spoke to Mila. Mom had blocked her. Mila then moved to Manhattan. When she realized she was pregnant, she moved in with her grandmother and uncle–thinking I was no longer alive after all this time without contact from anyone.”
“When did you find out all this? Do you think she’s lying?”
I swallow a sip of water.
“Dom, why would Mom lie?”
“No, Mila’s not lying. I should have never thought less of her. The more Mom drilled it in me, the more I believed it. It pisses me off. Mom meddled with my life. You know the way Mom treated her.”
“I’m sorry, bro, we should have answered her calls, but I just don’t know about all this. How old is the boy?”
“Four… his… name’s Dante. He looks just like us, dimples, and all.” I smile at the thought of his dimples when he waved at me.
Santiago’s shoulders slump. He rubs his jaw, a purple bruise already beginning to form.
“What’s going to happen now with you two?” he asks.
I slid my fingers through my hair, uncertain of how to go about it. “I’m not sure. I just came from her studio, where she told me all this. My head’s spinning.” I sigh, inhaling a long breath. “Samantha scheduled our engagement photo session a couple of weeks ago, which happened to be at Mila’s studio. Yesterday I bumped into her at Target with Samantha, where I discovered I had a son because he looked just like me. Now that I know the truth, I feel like a complete asshole. I said horrible things to piss her off and hurt her. Now she wants nothing to do with me. Also, she overheard me talking to Samantha, telling her I didn’t want kids.”
He whistles when he looks up at me from under the hood. He shakes his head. “Come on, man, she moves back and finds out you’re alive and engaged. You really can’t blame her for being mad.”
I close my eyes and feel my anger rise.
“Fuck you, if you would have answered her calls,” I snap.
He pushes off the car and looks up at me. “That's on you, Dom. You chose to believe our mother's story. She was your girlfriend, not mine. The only reason I believed it was because I didn't know her like you did. Do you still love her?”
I feel a pang of emotion in my chest. I can still picture the look of disgust on her face when she pulled away. But I can also still feel the longing that came over me when our lips met for the first time.
“Yeah, I never fell out of love with her.”
“You’ll figure it out, bro, but, fuck your engaged now.” He taps my shoulder as he gets back to work.
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