“He sends his love,” her smile is sharp enough to cut. “I can’t believe you did that to him and Bryan. It’s sick. You’re a sick person.”
The words are loaded with venom but they’d have more bite if she hadn’t stuffed her face with the cheeseburger at the end of the statement. Amusement fills me.
After a beat, I grab a chair from the corner of the room to sit in front of her. I’d sit on the floor too, but I’m not particularly sure I’d pull it off.
“I apologize for what I did to your friends. They were simply casualties of war.”
“There wasn’t a war, you psycho!” she exclaims.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetheart,” I chide gently.
She rolls her eyes, swallowing the bite before proceeding to glare at me.
“Why did you do that to them? You even burned down the club.”
“I was angry. You disappeared.”
“I left the city for personal reasons. No one needed to suffer for that.”
“If you say so,” I reply with a shrug.
I’m not going to explain my actions to her. I did them. They’re done.
“So what? After you kicked me out of your house, you had a change of heart, realized you liked me and then proceeded to search for me for 18 months? I admire your tenacity.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, siren. I wasn’t searching for you for 18 months.”
Truthfully, I gave up after the first couple of months.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because of your father,” I answer simply.
Her expression grows suspicious and confused.
“I don’t know who my father is.”
There’s a great deal of pain behind that statement. Although I can tell she tries to hide it.
“I do,” I tell her softly. “Finish your food and I’ll tell you.”
She grows silent, her eyes shuttering. I watch as she eats her food but I can tell her mind is far from here. I can only imagine the thoughts running through her head and how all this must be making her feel. It’ll be a lot to take in, her father’s identity.
In a sense, I’m glad for it though. I might hate Ignacio Navarro and want him dead. But him being her father proves that she belongs in this world.
It proves that she belongs in my world.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LILIANA
Most kids had fathers growing up. They came home to both their parents and they had healthy, happy lives. I didn’t have a father though. All I had was my mother and I used to think it was enough. That she was enough.
The truth is I was only lying to myself. I would watch other little girls with their fathers and wonder where mine could be and why he abandoned us. Did he have a choice? Would he want me if he knew I existed? Those thoughts ran through my head often. I wanted to know who he was and what he did for work.
And now faced with the answer to all my questions, I find myself conflicted. Maybe it’s because I’m a big fat hypocrite. Right now I’m faced with a similar situation my daughter might one day experience. The truth of a father that was kept away from me to protect me. And I realize there’s really no winning this situation. Because no matter how hard I try to be enough for Mila, she would yearn for her father same as me.
An uneasy feeling slides through my chest at the realization.
