Page 49 of Wild Heart
He tore his glasses from his face and pinched the space between his eyes. “You’ve got to quit punishing me for a choice I made over a decade ago. It’s done. It’s time to forgive.”
“Forgive?”
Was he joking?
“When have you ever apologized?”
“Is that what you need, Marcos? You need me to apologize?”
The skin around his eyes wrinkled, but the rest of his face fell slack as he studied me.
Standing in a corner I’d only ever been afraid of, dressed in Ivan’s shirt and covered in glitter, I wondered if he even recognized me.
It hurt.
The way he continued to stare, stunned, and a little confused.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the pain was coming from.
I just… ached.
“Do you think I enjoyed having that man around my son? Ihatewhat you had to witness, Marcos. Of course I do.”
Pushing his glasses up his nose, he pressed his fist to his mouth and took a low breath.
“Why are you even back here? Everything you need should be on your desk. The coffee is brewing. I left your check under the calendar.”
“The check, yeah. I saw it.” My lips rolled in on one another, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “It was twelve dollars. You paid me thirty cents an hour last week.”
“I’m sorry,mijo. I am. The gas bill was overdue, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
I choked on the sob that crawled up my throat. Pressing both hands to either side of my head, I curled my fingers until I felt my nails pierce my scalp.
“You use me. All the time. You use me to fix your mistakes, and I’m so tired. Exhausted on a spiritual level. Your signature on that check only reminded me that I’m a pawn first and a son second.”
“I could never think that of you, Marcos.”
Ohmygod.
My eyes sprang open, and I tossed my arms outward. “Look at where we’re standing.”
“Marcos.”
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I rotated my neck enough that I could stare down at it. It was familiar, sure, but I couldn’t remember a time it’d brought me any sort of comfort.
“If I would’ve known the man he’d turn out to be, I would’ve never borrowed money from him.”
“But you would’ve borrowed money from someone?” I slapped his hand off my shoulder. “Did you ever, just once, consider selling this place?”
Every muscle in his face scrunched like it physically hurt his brain to consider such a possibility.
“I can’t sell. This business pays my debts, and I wouldn’t get nearly enough to cover what I owe.”
“You could’ve sold years ago. You could’ve sold this place and paid off those hospital bills.”
“It was never as simple as you’re making it seem. You weren’t the only one grieving back then, Marcos. This business was—”
“Manny’s replacement.”
