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The stop for food is quick, Ignacio ordering extra even though I told him I wasn’t hungry, and then we’re back at his place. Alex knew the address. He had so much information written down on his dad I was shocked. Not only did Ig give him money in case he needed it, but he also gave him numbers and addresses for every guy on his team in case he called and couldn’t reach him. He made himself available at all times, giving Alex backups so he never felt abandoned. I don’t know if Ig told him to keep that information from me, but he never shared it until a couple of days ago.
“Don’t make a mess,” I tell Alex as he heads to the living room with a bag full of food.
“Are you going to eat?”
“Can I shower first?” I look away from Ignacio. My mind is so full of everything, I don’t know why I asked that. I came for his help, but I’m making it sound like I expect him to put us up or something. “I mean. Shit—”
I drop my head, but he doesn’t let it hang long before a crooked finger urges it back up.
“Come on.”
I follow him through the condo, noticing the boxes everywhere but not opening my mouth about them.
“I have two rooms. You can stay in here.”
The lights, motion-activated, come on when he walks into what is clearly the master.
“I’m not taking over your room.”
“Will you ever stop arguing with me?” When he turns to face me, there’s a small smile playing on his lips, and either I’m too tired to see it or it’s because it’s not there, but I don’t see an ounce of judgment or anger on his handsome face.
“Probably not,” I answer honestly, breathing him in when he gets close enough to press his lips to my forehead.
“Take your time.”
I do take my time in his shower, but not because I need to relax. It takes forever for the tears I’ve held back for the last couple of days to subside. I didn’t want to cry in front of Alex. I didn’t want him to think this entire situation is his fault, because it’s not.
When I climb out of the oversized shower, I find the bag I packed in a rush right outside the bathroom door. My trek back to the living room is silent, and Ignacio’s and Alex’s voices drifting toward me makes me pause.
“I understand,” Alex says softly.
“Because some bad choices have lifelong consequences.”
I grind my teeth. Is he really in there hinting that me getting pregnant at an early age was a bad choice and that Alex is a lifelong consequence?
“You’re lucky you didn’t end up hurt even more,” Ig continues, and my heart slows a little. “Now, it’s my fault for not making it more clear to Cedric that you were out. I hate that you were hurt because of me.”
“I wasn’t, Dad,” Alex says on a sigh. “It was my choice to sell. I put myself in that situation and no one else. I wanted to help. I could see Mom struggling. I didn’t want to ask for things. All the guys made it seem so easy. I just wanted to make things easier for her.”
Oh God, the guilt. My eyes start to burn again.
“It’s all over now,” Ignacio assures him.
“Do we get to stay here with you?”
A long silence fills the air, and I hold my breath to wait for his response, expecting him to say that Alex is welcome, but I can’t stay.
“I want you here, so bad.” And here comes the rest. “But I can’t stop your mom from taking you away if that’s what she wants. I’d never ask you to choose. I’ll go where you guys go, though. That I do promise.”
“I want to be here.” My son lowers his voice, so I can barely hear him. “But I’d never leave her. She needs me. I have to protect her.”
I spin around and head back into the bedroom Ignacio offered to me. I almost don’t get the door closed before I’m overtaken with sobs.
Chapter 35
Ignacio
You don’t understand just how uncomfortable your own furniture is until you spend a night on it waiting for the woman you love most in the world to come out of your room and ask you to join her in bed.
That wait for me took all night, as in Tinley never opened her door back up after her shower. She didn’t eat or come out to tell Alex goodnight. I imagine she passed out, exhausted from the trauma of Alex being hurt and the long trip to get here.
My back is killing me when I wake, painkillers and coffee the only things on my mind when I climb off the couch with a groan. Shit, when did thirty-one start feeling like sixty?
