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“I know.”
I turn on him, ready to blame him for this as well, but when I finally take my father in, I see he’s just as broken as I am.
“I did the same thing her first week here. She got too close to all those feelings I’ve been trying to drown in booze all these years. I snapped and sent her away in tears. She’s not the first nurse I made cry, but she was the first one who stuck around after. She was also the first to stand up to me the next day and demand an apology.”
This brings an almost-smile to my lips. I can picture the little five-foot, curvy woman with her hands on her hips, giving my father a harsh talking-to. “What did you do?”
“I realized the same thing you’re about to.”
I lift an eyebrow at him, unsure what he’s getting at.
“That Cambria is special and worth fighting for.”
Another few moments of silent contemplation spread between us, and finally, I know what I have to do.
“Shit,” I mutter. “I need to apologize, don’t I?”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?”
This pulls a chuckle from deep in my chest. We’re nowhere near patching things up, but I know my father understands the position I’m in. Maybe there’s hope for us after all. We both seem to know Cambria is the key to everything.
Now I need to go make it up to her.
CHAPTERSIX
CAMBRIA
As soon as I enter my cottage, I shut the door and collapse against it. The tears I’ve been holding back rush to the surface, stinging my eyes as they pour out.
After a few deep breaths, I peel myself away from the door and stumble toward the bed, flopping down on it in a pile of pathetic tears. My head is pounding as I try to work through one of my calming exercises, each beat of my heart pulsing painfully in my temples.
Curling up into a ball, I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to focus on grounding myself instead of berating myself. The old insecurities win out, however, and I replay the entire kitchen scene over and over, feeling like a fool.
What did I think was going to happen? I’d get Dante here for a few days and hope he’s willing to bury the hatchet after decades of not talking to his father? Did I expect Raul to flip a switch and suddenly let go of his shame enough to tell his son he loves him?
I sniffle, the unattractive sound making me feel even more like an idiot.
Equally as upsetting is the way Dante snapped.
You don’t know anything. Not a goddamn thing.
I must be delusional. I thought Dante and I had some sort of connection, some unspoken bond that had formed over the last few days. Was he annoyed with me the whole time? Am I just a little kid to him? Or maybe I’ll never be anything more than the help. I’m good enough to take care of Raul when Dante doesn’t want to, but it’s not my place to meddle in family affairs.
Some part of me knows it doesn’t matter. None of it. Dante will be gone soon, Raul will return to his grumpy ways, and we’ll probably never speak of this incident again.
It’s for the best.
But then why is my stomach in knots? The thought of never seeing Dante again, of having that be our last interaction, triggers a deep fear. After my mom passed, I promised myself–
My thoughts are cut off by a knock at my door. I tense, not sure I’m ready to face whatever is out there. Am I going to be fired? Is Dante here to yell at me some more? Maybe Raul had a rush of adrenaline from his anger and stormed across the yard to give me a piece of his mind.
“Cambria?”
It’s Dante, which isn’t surprising. His voice, however, isn’t what I expected. Instead of harsh or clipped, he sounds almost… tender.
“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole,” he says with a sigh. “I’m sorry for a lot of things in my life, but the way I treated you earlier is at the top of the list.”
I sit up in bed, then swing my legs over the side, standing and taking a tentative step toward the door. I hear a muffled thud, and I know Dante is resting his forehead against the scratchy wooden door.
