But why would Widow be sitting beside him? I look into his soft blue eyes and try to find the answer I seek without saying a word. He clears his throat, “Your dad was supposed to come here with Damon, Rose, and your brothers tomorrow. Though, you know how he can be. He was dead set on charging up here and demanding to see you. I wasn’t gonna let him come alone.” Widow catches me up to speed.
“Are you two friends now?” I ask, sensing how Dante shifts in his seat beside me. He can tell there’s something I haven’t told him. He does know my father is no saint, but he doesn’t know just how horrible he had been to me.
Widow draws his brows together and appears a bit shameful at my question. “No, we’re not friends. We let the past . . . go after you went missing. I still think he’s a piece of shit.”
“I’m sitting right here,” My father hisses to Widow, who only rolls his eyes in response.
“The last time you two saw one another you beat him within an inch of his life . . . I don’t . . . I don’t see how you both can be sitting side by side today.”
Dante’s eyes are burning a hole in my head, so I look beside me. “Does anyone want to fill me in on what I’m missing?”
“You were taken, ‘Mar. Of course shit was gonna change. Fuck, Damon and I were both torn up. Eventually we had to tell your parents and your dad started showin’ interest in helpin’ us locate you. Not that it helped us out at all . . . but, at least you’re safe now.”
“‘Mar?” Dante repeats, his aggravation growing by the minute.
“Widow is my ex.” I state, shifting my glance to him now. In the last year he’s aged a bit. He now has a bit of gray starting to develop at his roots, while stress lines appear on his forehead.
“Relax, bro. We’re history. I have a wife and a two-month old son.” Widow tells Dante, trying to get my boyfriend off the road he’s about to head down. While Dante’s jealousy is hopefully lessening, I can’t describe the hit to the gut I’m taking emotionally. I knew Widow had moved on with Tania after we finally called it quits, but he has another child, a son.
If . . . if I hadn’t aborted our child it would’ve been a few years old at this point. But I did. At the time I knew where Melody was and the fact she had hidden Widow’s daughter from him. Knowing Widow, I had no doubt he would’ve stayed with me to raise our child . . . but his daughter would have lost more time with him, and God forbid if Melody had wanted to be with him. I wanted them to have another chance, especially after I ruined everything they had to begin with.
I was fucking horrible, and I’ll never forgive myself for the mistake I made all those years ago. The past has a way of creeping up on you.
“Have you changed?” I ask my father, blurting it out in the middle of the conversation Widow and Dante are having. If I’m being honest, I’d rather they not continue it.
My father digs into his pocket and pulls out some sort of coin, puts it on the table and slides it across to me. I don’t mistake the way Widow smiles lightly at what my father has just done. I pick up the coin between my fingers and read over it.
The color is a type of bronze, with a triangle in the middle that states three months recovery. On the bottom it says ‘one day at a time’. Everything hits me at once. “You’re in Alcoholics Anonymous?”
“Yes. I got my 90 days clean chip two days ago. I . . . I know I fucked shit up in the past, Amara. I won’t sit here and act like I didn’t treat you horribly. I only hope one day you’ll forgive me for everything I did. Though, I hope to earn that forgiveness.”
“What did you do to her?” Dante questions, his tone coming out in a growl.
“The past is the past, let it be.” I tell him, though my father obviously doesn’t agree. He starts to open his mouth and I dread the way my boyfriend will react.
“I hit her. I’d hit her when I was drunk. I’d slap her. My . . . my loving daughter would try to take the liquor from me, and I’d hurt her.” He closes his eyes, continuing to speak. “She was only trying to help me, to save my life from letting my addiction ruin it, and in turn I harmed her in a way I never should’ve. I’m so sorry, Amara. I’m sorry for everything.” Opening his eyes, even from six feet away I can see the way his eyes gloss with wetness. He’s on the verge of tears.
Dante balls up his fists so much so that his knuckles are turning white. “Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.” He snarls to my father.
“Because you don’t want to hurt me.” I say, placing my hand over his. “He probably deserves it for what he’s done, but I don’t want him dead, Dante. At the end of the day, he’s still my father and I still love him . . . even though sometimes I doubt that I should.”
“I don’t deserve it.” My father declares.
“I’m sorry?” I furrow my brows and look back to him.
“I don’t deserve your love, mija. Not after everything that’s happened between us.”
I shift my eyes back to Dante, who still has his eyes on me. He’s tightened his jaw
