Page 89 of Unbreakable Thread

I lock the door, and I walk up next to her.

“Come,” she says, her hands trembling. I don’t know what the hell is going on or what I’m stepping into.

We walk into the clean and luxurious building. It’s impressive. I follow Sol’s steps that lead to an outside patio with an amazing view. Our shoes crunch on the fresh-cut grass. She strides toward a man by the pond who has his back to us. Wide shoulders. Hands in his pockets. The way he stands…something about the way he stands… My steps slow down. He turns. The air leaves my body. My dad. Not the man I’d last seen—thin, unsteady, smelling like something that had given up. This man stood straight. His face full. His eyes clear. A reflection of what I see every morning.

My father stands before me. A completely different man. It’s like years have been peeled off him. When I was a child, I vividly remember my dad having large, wide shoulders and huge biceps. When his drinking escalated, his body deflated. He looks so much younger.

Has he been here the whole fucking time?

“Maximiliano.” My father’s voice is low and unsure. He looks at my girl. “Mija.” He gives her a genuine smile, showing his teeth.

I’m taken aback, frozen in place. I haven’t seen my pops smile in nineteen years. It’s strange, honestly. Sol’s hands are out, and my father gives her a hug. It’s obvious they developed a friendship.

“You look great, Hector. I’m so proud of you,” Sol praises him the way you would a child who’d done something brave.

“It’s so nice to see you two so…close,” I say, then look at Sol. “I’ve been searching for him. I even filed a missing person report.” My gaze pierces her chocolate eyes. “I’ve mentioned several times to you that I was looking for him, and you said nothing.” I hear my own voice getting louder and can’t stop it.

“I went to the house and talked to your dad. Then I brought him here. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew he wouldn’t relapse. I wanted to surprise you. And this was before the accident.”

“That long?” I shout.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at her,” my dad shouts.

I ignore my dad and look at Sol. “I even took you to the house. You acted as if you had never been there.” I’m a little hurt she didn’t tell me when she saw the worry I was carrying. “How could you lie to my face? What else have you lied about?”

She scoffs. “You’re being an ass.” Her gaze could burn a hole right through me. “A complete asshole.”

“Max, enough. Don’t stress her out.”

Sol walks off, sniffling, her hands slipping into the pocket of her sweatshirt.

“She was only trying to help, Max. She did this for you. She didn’t want to give you hope if I failed.”

I know she did.

“Ah, so now you’re giving advice.”

“I’m just trying to help, hijo.”

He hasn’t called me son in years. A sharp, bitter laugh vibrates out of me. “Help? Since when, huh? Where in the fuck were you when I needed help? When I was hungry, were you there to help? How about when I was beaten?” I know I should shut the hell up, but I can’t. I’m not used to this…him sober and not cussing me out. “You never went back for me.” My throat constricts around the final words. Years of silence collapse in that moment, the dam finally breaking down. “I needed a father, but you turned your back on me. I was so young. You lost a wife, but I lost my parents.” Neither of us speaks.

My dad peers at me with glassy eyes. “Nothing I say will ever take back the pain of what I did to you. I know that my words are meaningless to you now.” His voice trembles. “I numbed the pain of losing your mother, and I didn’t know or understand how to live a life without her. I was buried in grief and let the darkness swallow me whole. I know it’s not an excuse, but it was just us two. We had no family to lend a hand and snap me out of it.” His voice cracks. “I went back for you.”

My heart thunders in my chest. I look at him. “When?” I don’t believe it.

“Months after. I tried cleaning myself up. The social worker said you were in a better home. I believed it. I felt you were probably better off than living with me.” He points to Sol. “She told me you were never adopted. I thought you were.”

“You didn’t try hard enough.”

He nods. “I know I should have. I envisioned you in a home with a mother and father. Happy.” He blows air out. Tears slide down his face and drop. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I don’t expect you to forgive me. You shouldn’t. I’ll carry it either way. Perdóname.” His shoulders slump. “If I could go back in time, I would do things differently. I love you, Max. You’re the son I dreamed of having. I lost myself.” His voice cracks. “We should have grieved together.”

I reach for his arm and lift him up. As much as I wished and dreamed, life would have been different. It all changed when I met Sol. “I wouldn’t do things differently because I would have never met Sol, and I was meant to be there for her.”

“Your mother would have loved her.”

I shove my hands in my jeans. “She would have.”

We stay silent for what feels like long minutes. Birds chirp around us, and ducks chase after each other.