Page 99 of Resisting Isaac
“Gracias, Papá.”
He nods. “You will be a wonderful mother, Elena.”
Then his gaze shifts to Isaac.
And just like that, the warmth turns into a stare that could melt steel.
“You,” he says in a low voice. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”
Isaac’s brows raise. “Well, sir, I?—”
“You have no ring. Are you planning to marry her? Provide for her? For your child? Or are you just passing through, leaving my daughter to clean up your mess?”
My mom wails again. “We should’ve taken her to church more often?—”
“I plan to give her whatever her heart desires,” Isaac says, interrupting gently but firmly. “I can only hope that’s me someday. I’ll take care of her in whatever way she needs and allows. But I’ve seen firsthand how important her independence is to her and I admire and respect that very much. Either way, I’ll still be there. I hope to be the kind of father my father was, steadfast and reliable. I’m not going anywhere, sir. And I’ll never consider my child a mess to clean up.”
My mom’s jaw drops. She literally clutches her chest.
My dad nods once in approval.
Meanwhile, I am fucking floored. I gape at Isaac, wishing I’d recorded everything he just said so I could play it again a million times.
Just as it seems like the atmosphere is becoming breathable, Diego shows up.
Because of course he does.
He lets himself in like he lives here and stands just inside the kitchen entryway, arms crossed, button-down shirt too crisp, cologne heavy in the air. Cloying and restrictive.
“Elena.” He nods to my parents before pinning me with a punitive stare. “You didn’t return my texts.”
I inhale sharply. “I’ve been busy.”
He smirks. “So I heard. It seems congratulations are in order.”
But he doesn’t offer them. His stare takes on a possessive edge I don’t like and Isaac moves closer.
Diego leans casually against the wall, his large frame dwarfing my parent’s small home. “Would’ve been nice to get a heads up that you’d be in town.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Isaac says from beside me. Calmly but with an edge.
Diego’s eyes flick to him, dismissive. Then back to me. “I just wanted to talk.”
“And if she wanted to talk, you’d know.” Isaac steps forward.“Have you ever known her not to talk if she had something to say?”
Diego’s eyes plead with mine. “Please, Elena. Five minutes. I just want to?—”
“I’m pregnant, Diego,” I blurt because I’m out of patience and energy to protect everyone else’s feelings. “As you overheard. The baby belongs to Isaac,” I say, contemplating admitting that I’m beginning to feel like I do, too.
Diego pulls a disgusted face. “Christ Almighty, Elena.” He sizes Isaac up then and appears to find him lacking. “This is what you want?”
“This is none of your business,” I retort.
“My business,” Diego huffs out almost like he’s laughing. “I’ve known you all my life, Elena. You are always my business.”
“This is where you walk away, friend,” Isaac says, voice still steady and even. “You’re not what she’s choosing right now. If for any reason you ever are, I’ll respect that. But until then, you need to respect this. And her.”
Isaac angles his body so he’s between me and Diego.
