Page 119 of Everything But Mine

Amanda’s parents and Mom step up to us while I still have Amanda in my arms. When I face them, keeping Amanda pressed firmly to my side, the three of them smile.

“Uncl—” Calling Amanda’s dad uncle suddenly feels really freaking weird. “Sandro,” I extend my free hand his way, my fingers tightening on Amanda’s wrist.

Mom ohhhs and ahhs about how healthy I look. When she pulls me into a hug, Amanda holds onto my arm, and it sinks in that we’re finally showing we won’t let each other go. The hair on the back on my neck stands and, tugging Amanda in closer, I meet Robert’s eyes. A colder version of my own shade of brown. We hold each other’s gaze until I break away. Not in embarrassment that he won’t acknowledge me, but with pride that I get to hold someone who lifts me up.

Saturdays aren’t much different from Fridays at these gatherings. Every meal is a group feast, every table pulled together, bowls passed around, drinks refilled. Laughter and gossip bleed into each other loudly. It’s usually easy if I fly under the radar.

Not tonight.

The seating arrangement is a bit too on the nose for my taste. Divided into two sides: those who’d back me up, and those who wouldn’t, with my father in the center, right across from me. At the edge of the table, next to Max, I clock the girl with the swallow tattoo and tense.

“Nova.” Amanda leans in to whisper. “Her name’s Nova.”

“You okay with her here?” I’m already shifting in my seat, ready to leave.

Amanda waves her hand. “It’s fine, Eric.”

She trails a path up my arm until she reaches the back of my neck and fixes the tag of my shirt, smoothing it down. Her hand brushes the tips of my hair, and I dip to kiss her temple. When I glance up, Robert is watching with a disapproving frown and pursed lips.

“So, Eric, how come you joined us a day late?” Armando Bennett, the twins’ dad, bridges all the side conversations with his question.

Everyone’s gaze zeros in on Amanda’s hand on my neck. Her forearm goes rigid against my shoulder, and I brace for the loss of her touch under scrutiny. It never leaves.

I clear my throat. “I was busy,” I answer. “Amanda didn’t want to miss it, so I caught up later.”

Armando nods, but his wife picks up where he left off. “So… we’ve heard whispers from the girls,” she adds, her blonde hair swaying in the light wind. “You and Amanda are together?”

Kate, Amanda’s mom, cuts in. “Samira, let the kids be kids, yeah?”

Robert coughs loudly, all eyes on him. “Kate, the kids”—he infuses the word with mockery—“are thirty fucking years old. Mine”—he tips his head Keith’s way—“is married.”

Amanda’s mom holds my father’s stare, her hair glowing auburn under the sunset. She opens her mouth, and Robert talks over her.

“A client of ours, from your university”—he waves his finger between Amanda and me—“said a professor left in the middle of a summer seminar to check himself into a mental health facility.”

He takes a slow sip, eyes on me over the rim of his glass, as if he hasn’t knowingly put me under unwanted spotlight. Across from Amanda, Keith’s mouth twitches.

I swallow. Six weeks ago, I would have hidden it under shame and fear. Now, I hold my ground against him. “It was me.”

Silverware clinks, and someone coughs.

Robert nods, eyes shining with pretend concern. “Well, you always were a little… sensitive. Max’s girl”—he points at the woman, Nova—“is very concerned about how you’re doing.” He’s smiling, and so is Keith. “Since you two share history and all.” He looks at Amanda. “Hopefully that’s not news to you, sweetheart? His”—Robert waves his glass, the ice clinking with the movement—“issues?”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” Amanda responds. “And Eric’s⁠—”

I wrap my hand around her wrist, and she stops, meeting my gaze. I stand up, hand still wrapped around Amanda’s, and look at my mom. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Robert’s illusion of a perfect marriage was never mine to protect. And I won’t at the expense of Amanda or my child inheriting this mess.

I point my finger at Robert, leaning over the table. “You abandoned me. You fathered a child.” Saliva flies off my mouth with the force of my words. “And at every turn, you humiliate me because you weren’t faithful to your wife.” I lick my lips and breathe in. Amanda’s fingers interlace with mine. “You manipulate your son, my half brother, into bullying me.” I take a second to meet his wife’s eyes. “If you didn’t know, I am sorry. If you did, shame on you too.”

I survey everyone at this table and meet their eyes. Every Camacho, including Uncle Tony, looks at me with pride. Sandro nods, and Katie smiles. Mom sniffles, gaze locked on her knees, before looking up to me without anger. I look back at Robert, this hypocrite whose blood I carry.

“You want to humiliate me? Fine.” I puff up my chest. “But own your bullshit, and tell everyone I’m your son.”

Robert’s face goes from red to bordering on purple, the color climbing from to the tips of his ears. Beside him, his wife stares at him, her brows disappearing into her hairline. Across the table, Cece has gone completely still, her lips parted around a gasp.

“I thought I wasn’t worthy of you, but the truth is… You were never worthy of me.”