His mouth fell open. “I’m sorry?”
“You’ve given every facet of your being to this place, and you're determined to save it in all the ways you couldn’t save Manny. Meanwhile, you had another son, sitting alone and wondering when it was his turn to be saved.”
“Don’t say that like I forgot about you,mijo. I wouldn't ever forget you.”
“Maybe not, but when it was me in this corner,dying,you never came to save me. Not once.”
Licking over his lips, he scratched his mustache with a furrow between his eyes. “You… weren’t born to be saved.”
Pain.
That’s what I felt.
A sadness so profound, it burned into fury just to keep me from drowning.
My chest caved inward, and because I felt so hollow, the rest of me started collapsing too.
Pressing a hand to my stomach, I forced a breath. Mouth open, it took me several attempts to speak, and though they were my words filling the space, I couldn’t recognize my voice. “Do you know what it’s like to always be referred to as a miracle? To sit beside your big brother and watch him die because you weren’t actually a savior but just a kid?”
“Marcos—”
“Mamaprayedover me; did you know that? She’d come in my room and pray over me like she thought I was cursed.”
He paled and wrapped a hand around his throat. “I had no idea. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“I’m tired, Dad. I’m tired of trying to save you because I couldn’t save Manny.”
“I don’t understand where all this is coming from.”
It wasn’t coming from anywhere.
It was just…me.
It was all the things I held low in my gut—the things that came out as screams instead of words.
“I… I have to quit working here. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Dad, but I’m… I’m important too.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
“That’s true.” Hand to my mouth, I nodded, fighting against the tears that pooled in my eyes. “But you never said I was either.”
I moved past him then, each step heavier than the last as I put one foot in front of the other. The walls closed in on me like they always did, making it harder to breathe as I stepped up to my desk. My hands shook when I lifted the check he’d written and tore it in two.
“You didn’t have to do that, Marcos.”
“You made it out to Manuel.” A tear hit a torn edge, bubbling against the ink. “He’s been dead fourteen years.”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, eyebrows gathering in as he winced. “I…”
Nothing.
Voice fading, he stood there, staring at me as I used the bottom of Ivan’s shirt to wipe my tears. His dark eyes and hollowed cheeks made me wonder if his remorse was genuine this time or if he’d just gotten good at playing the part.
Disappointment held Luis and I together with a formidable strength. Like an invisible string, it stretched, and I’ve grown tired of waiting for it to snap.
“You’re upset. Rightfully so, but I don’t think abandoning your family is the right thing to do.”
“For fuck’s sake, Luis! I’m not abandoning my family. Maybe I just don’t want to be an employee anymore. Maybe I’d like to try being a son, but you don't know how to treat me like one.”
