I hear Lenore’s soft intake of breath, but when I look over at her, she dips her eyes to her cup. Hector, on the other hand, holds my gaze.
“Damian told us about her condition,” he says, his voice gruff but not entirely unkind. “You have our sympathy. But it doesn’t excuse the deceit.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re right,” I agree. “You know, I actually struggled with it a lot at first. The lie,” I clarify. “But then I thought, anyone who would go to such lengths to impress their parents must have a good reason.” Although Hector scoffs, I press on, undeterred. “Damian just wanted to get his life back on track. The way he went about it was…problematic, but I think he didn’t know how else to do it. And honestly, I’m glad it played out the way it did because I don’t think we would’ve ever gotten to know each other otherwise, and that would be a far bigger shame than the two of you finding out we lied.”
“You said something along the same lines on the plane to Guadalajara,” Hector points out, and though it isn’t a question, I can hear the interrogating note in his voice.
I lift my chin a little to show I’m not afraid of him. He can test me all he wants. My anxiety might be scratching under my skin, but I’ve never met an exam I didn’t ace, and I came prepared for anything.
“And I meant it,” I retort, not caring about niceties or sounding polite. I only care about them hearing what I have to say. “The only lie I told you during that trip was that yourson and I were dating. Which, coincidentally enough, kind of stopped being a lie that same weekend.”
Lenore’s head snaps up. “Are you saying that you and Damian areactuallydating now?”
She doesn’t sound like someone confirming something she’s already heard, but rather like she’s learning this news for the first time. She sounds shocked, as if the idea of me and Damian having a real relationship is completely beyond the realm of reason.
I slow-blink in confusion. “Did he not tell you that?”
It’s Hector who answers. “He didn’t say much at all…except that none of this is your fault.”
There’s a skeptical edge to his voice, but it’s soft, contemplative almost, as if he’s wrestling with the two possibilities before him and is unsure which one is the truth. Though, the longer I study his stern face, the more I realize that’s not because he wants to givemethe benefit of the doubt…but because he’s done giving it to his son.
Any trust—any belief and faith—he had in Damian is shattered, like a dropped glass as it collides with the ground. Seeing that finality in his gaze seems enough to tear my soul in two. I can’t allow things to end like this. I won’t. So, if they won’t listen to Damian—if he isn’t willing or able to stand up for himself…
ThenIneed to stand up for him.
“You know, I hated Damian when we first made our agreement. Literallyhatedhim.” I huff out a laugh, earning a pained look from his mother. “But then I got to know him. Toseehim.”And then I found I didn’t really hate him at all.I shake my head, looking again at his father. “I know he’s done some things that have been…difficult for you to overcome as a family, but surely, you know why.”
When neither of them answers, I peer down at my hands, which I clamp together in my lap until the knuckles are bleached of color to keep my anxiety at bay and to distract my fingers. My breath is shaky when I force myself to say, “I won’t pretend to understand what it’s like to lose a child, but I do understand how it feels to have a family member who’s fighting cancer. If I’m honest, I don’t think either of you see just how broken Damian is over losing his brother. He is deeply hurting, and I can’t help thinking that, maybe, it was more important for you to show the outside world that everything was okay than to actually acknowledge it wasn’t.”
My eyes dart up, locking on Hector’s again. “He blames you…for Jamie.” My tone is brusque, and he flinches as if I just struck him across the face. My chest constricts at his wounded expression, but if he’s going to hear me—reallyhear me—blunt honesty is the only way forward. And he needs to hear this. For Damian. “You realize that, right?” I press. “In his mind, you chose Hallazgo over saving his brother’s life.”
Hector’s knuckles turn milk white as well as he tightens his grip on his mug. I expect him to challenge me. To say this is none of my business and to get the hell out of his house.
But he doesn’t.
“It was more complicated than that,” he protests, his voice strained.
I give a small, sympathetic nod. “I’m sure. But grief doesn’t care about complicated. My dad abandoned me when I was little, and yet, I still miss the bastard for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend. There are days I still wish he would come home, even though I think he’s a deadbeat waste of air. Damian’s grief is like that,” I explain, exchanging a brief glance with Lenore. “It’s confused. And he acts out because he feels suffocated by this public perception offineyou’re constantly forcing on him. Because you’ve made your love conditional onhim fitting into this perfect image you’ve built to keep your world from crumbling.” I exhale a tremulous breath, but push on before I lose my nerve. “You couldn’t control Jamie dying, but youcancontrol Damian. Or at least, you tried to. But he acted out because he doesn’t need to be controlled. Heneedsyou to acknowledge his pain. And yours.”
Hector does react with rage now, his features contorting as he perceives my words as an insult rather than the harsh truth they are. “You have been engaging in this charade with our son since…when? September?” he barks. “Andyoupresume to know him better after less than five months than his own parents who raised him?”
“With all due respect, sir, yes,” I fire back, my own fury rising in direct competition with his. “Because, unlike you, he’s not afraid to be honest with me. You’re so caught up in the fact he lied that you aren’t even bothering to look at why he did it.”
He snorts. “Because he was clearly afraid of losing the free ride our family’s wealth has afforded him.”
Jesus, is that really what Damian’s parents think of him? If so, they don’t know him at all.
“Because he was afraid of losing Hallazgo.” At the confused look on his parents’ faces, I slide the strap of my bag off my shoulder and reach inside, pulling out the thick folder I had safely tucked within. “It’s not quite finished,” I say as I extend it to Hector, “but if I can’t convince you, maybe this can.”
His dark brow wrinkles as he reaches out a hand to take the folder from me. “What is this?”
I lick my lips, trying my best to ignore the frantic way my heart is racing.
Here goes nothing.
“A proposal,” I answer, “for a program that would cover medication and treatment costs for patients struggling with chronic illnesses and terminal diseases like cancer,through partnerships with hospitals, pharmacies, and research universities.” I pause for a beat—just long enough for my words to sink in. “I have spent every single day of the last two months watching Damian work on this. He has devoted countless hours to researching, speaking to relevant industry contacts, whatever it takes to make this proposal foolproof.”
Shock wipes the anger clean off Hector’s face, and he stares at me for a tense moment before finally opening the folder. My eyes flick to Lenore as he flips through the pages, but she doesn’t say a word, though she has put down her mug and scooted closer to her husband.
