“I need you to get it together, Tomás. No more fighting, for money or otherwise. No more fucking around. I need you to take your senior year seriously so you can get into a good college and take my place.”
My stomach drops.
Take his place?
What the fuck is he talking about?
It’s then, as he continues to speak, that my world crashes and burns before my eyes.
It’s the wake-up call I needed, but fuck do I wish it didn’t have to be like this.
I hear what he’s saying. Even if I couldn’t, I can read his lips, but my hearing becomes lost in a funnel as a sadness creeps over me that I didn’t know I would ever be capable of feeling.
“Wait, so there’s a cure?” My voice is full of hope, but my heart sinks as I ask the question.
He grabs hold of my hand, squeezing it. “No, hijo, I’m past that point. Doctor said I don’t have much time left. The tumor went undetected and now the cancer has spread.”
“Dad. No…What…What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I need you to take care of your mom and sister. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I breathe before breaking into tears that feel like knives cutting at my skin. “I promise.”
I promise.
I won’t fuck it up.
I’ll change.
I have to.
CHAPTER 18
SARINA
The two worst ways to wake up? With a pounding headache or having a pounding headacheanda voicemail from my dad.
For the entirety of my commute into work, I’ve debated if I should listen to it or not. My gut is telling me to ignore it. He rarely calls, and when he does it’s never to see how I’m doing. It’s always to lecture me or find a new way to tell me what a disappointment I am to him. I already feel like shit from the drinks I had last night, I don’t need him to add to it.
If only ignoring him were that easy.
No matter how much I try to, and know that I would be in my every right to, there’s a part of me that clings onto how he used to be.
There was a time, brief as it was, when he was happy —loving, even.
It didn’t last long but it found its way into my core memory and has taunted me since, giving me false hope that the man I knew is still there. And maybe, just maybe, one day, by a goddamn miracle, he’ll reveal that part of himself to me again and act like a father.
It's delusional, sure, but it’s all I have left of what our relationship once was. So, because of that, I go against my better judgement and press play, regretting my decision within the first two seconds of the audio.
“Hello, Sarina, it’s your father, in case you’ve forgotten since you’ve decided to run off to New York and think you’re some damn hotshot. Anyway, I trust that your sister filled you in on the slight shift in her and Chloe’s wedding. I hope that won’t be a problem with you being able to get time off. Oh, and how can I forget, your date. Whatever his name is, I forget. Either way, I’m so looking forward to meeting him. That is, if you’re still bringing him. I can imagine with such short notice of the wedding being moved up that it could cause some complication. Anyway, if you decide to call back, I’ll talk to you then, if not, see you at the wedding. Take care.”
“That motherfucker,” I say through gritted teeth as I close out of my voicemail, half tempted to chuck my phone on the floor.
I’m so fucking angry at the insinuation he threw in there at the end. Acting as if I wouldn’t have a date with such short notice. If I show up with no one, he’s never going to let me live that down. I refuse to give him any more ammo than he already has to make my life miserable.
“Rough day already, Ms. Tesoro?” Grace, Tomás’ secretary, asks timidly.
“Shit,” I whisper under my breath, trying to snap to and get my wits about me since I’m now standing in front of Grace’s desk.
