My chest expands with the sheer relief of standing up. I reach for Ligaya’s coat, helping her with it. We do the usual formalities of saying goodbye. Standing together. Shaking hands.
However, when mother air kisses Ligaya, she fumbles a little and nearly crashes on the table.
“Are you OK, Mrs. Thorne?”
“I stood up too suddenly. Dizzy spell, you know how it is.”
Actually, I don’t. “Do you get dizzy spells often, Mom?”
“No, no, don’t worry about me. I’ll just freshen up.”
“Great idea. I’ll freshen up, too, before we drive home.”
Ligaya, intuitive as always, is making an excuse to go with my mother and make sure she doesn’t fall on her face. My eyes are glued to them, so I’m taken by surprise when Dad grabs my elbow.
“I need a minute alone with you.”
We stroll out of the dining area and through the main hallway, down a corridor lined with oil paintings of rich dead people. We’re on the other end of the country club. The side patio is empty this time of year, which is why my father chose it as the place to fully display his true, ugly colors.
“Are you even serious with this girl?”
I glare at him incredulously. “She’s not a girl, she’s a woman. She’s brilliant and kind and beautiful. Most importantly, she is going to be the mother of my children.”
“This is quite the turn of fortune for people like her,” he scoffs.
My fist clenches and my stomach tightens. My father has been all kinds of asshole to me, but I’m used to it. Most of the time, I can barely hear him. I just block out the endless insults he hurls my way.
When the derision is directed at Ligaya, however, his words are unacceptable. I’m so preoccupied with controlling my anger, he interprets my silence as an opportunity to keep yapping.
“She’s set for life if you got her pregnant. Are you sure they’re yours.”
“You are disgusting,” I practically spit at him. I can’t begin to wrap my mind around his way of thinking.
“C’mon, Tristan. Do you think she’d be with you if you had nothing?”
“Ligaya has never asked me for anything. You think everyone wants your money because you can’t imagine being wanted without it. That’s not her. We’ve never even talked about money.”
“You will, wait and see.”
“The only thing I see when I look at her is a woman with more integrity in one finger thanyouwill ever have,” I state with conviction.
In a world with so few certainties, I have no doubt she will never let me or our children down. Ligaya’s ability to make me feel seen is a gift I won’t take for granted. When she directs that honest attention and sincere care to the children, I can’t imagine a better future for them. Or for me.
Why did it take this awful conversation to truly understand how lucky I am to be the father ofherchildren? I want to be the man they deserve.
“Are you telling me you haven’t taken care of her since the pregnancy?” My shitty father continues to berate me. “Pampered her? Maybe bought her a car.”
“Shut up, Dad. You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“What will people say? That you got trapped by some—”
“Careful,” I growl and grab his shirt, my other hand fisted and ready to punch. I’ve never felt anger like this. “Be very careful what comes out of your mouth when you talk about my woman. If you’ve got nothing to say that isworthyof Ligaya Torres, then you shut the fuck up.”
I push him off and stomp away.
Standing by the open patio door is Ligaya. Her expression is stoic, but her body is shaking. She must have heard every word.
God, what was I thinking? That I could protect her from my father’s spitefulness? It was a glaring miscalculation to drag her into this part of my life.
