My eyebrows raise. “Really?”
“Of course. I always have teens wanting to make a quick buck over the summer when it’s the busy season. I always said no, but there was something in your eyes that told me you were worth the extra pay and effort.”
What is it with this man and bringing on the waterworks? I’m like a leaky faucet around him. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you, Chloe. For giving me another connection to my brother again.” His eyes shine, reflecting unshed tears.
“You have a way of making me cry, and I’m not much of a crier.” I sniffle.
He chuckles. “You’re very brave. Not many people would have the courage to confront someone about being their long-lost parent, but you did it. And now that I’ve had time to think about it, I can say that was incredibly courageous of you.”
“Or stupid. Depends how you look at it.”
Matteo chuckles. “You should be proud of yourself. I’m happy you shared who you were with me because it gives me a chance to reconnect with my brother in a different way now.”
“Dammit, Matteo. You need to stop with all the nice words.” I dab at the corner of my eyes before another tear escapes.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s annoying because I’m trying freaking hard to stay mad at you.”
“Then I’m not the least bit sorry about that.”
I let out a genuine laugh. “Will you tell me a story about my dad?”
He nods. “Of course. What would you like to know?”
“Do you think he liked John Hughes’s movies?”
“It’s funny you say that. He always did have a thing for The Breakfast Club. Maybe it was his rebellious nature that made him resonate with the main guy.”
I flash him a huge grin. “I love that movie too!”
“I’m telling you—you’re more alike than you realize.”
Matteo goes off, telling me stories about my father’s past. I memorize every single word.
While I didn’t get exactly what I wished for, I have the opportunity to learn about my father and who he was over the years he was alive. And to me, that’s better than never having the chance to begin with.
I leave Matteo’s house way later than expected. Silence greets me as I unlock the front door, opening it to find pure darkness.
I miss Santiago freaking me out the moment I walk through the front door.
I miss coming home to the smell of whatever he was cooking that day.
I miss him.
I miss him so damn much, I’m tempted to call him and break down.
But what if I forgive him, only to have the same thing happen again? Everything about our relationship was fake to the public. And what if the next time he lies, it’s about cheating or something way worse? How does he expect me to believe anything he says again?
But are you being fair? You went along with some of his lies in the first place. And he was trying to protect you in the end. I can count on two fingers how many other people have tried to do the same.
Maybe it’s time I acted like an adult and called him.
My stomach grumbles, forcing me to table my thoughts and head to the kitchen to attempt some kind of meal. If someone can count burnt charred remains as sustenance.
An embroidery circle takes up a spot in the middle of the counter. I rush toward it and pick it up.
My heart rate speeds up in my chest as I check out the most beautiful design I’ve ever seen. There’s no mistaking who made this. Santiago crafted a field of wildflowers, making up every color of the rainbow. It’s hands-down the best gift anyone has given me.
A wobbly looking quote takes up the top of the design.
Where most people see weeds, I only see you—my beautiful wildflower, untamed and free.
I flip over the embroidery circle to find a note taped on the back. His small yet elegant handwriting marks the page.
I called you a wildflower the moment you showed up at my house with a bouquet of them. That day, I asked myself what kind of person would go picking those crazy flowers in the first place. I thought they were just inconvenient weeds, but now I have my answer after all the time we spent together.
You might not realize it, but you’re a wildflower. You grow in the most unexpected places, no matter who tramples on you or ignores your beauty. You can grow in a field, or through a crack in the sidewalk, but the result will always be the same. No one can stop you from flourishing in a world set on ignoring you. You have a way of turning any situation, good or bad, into something magnificent.
You taught me that life is stunning in its rawest form. That anyone can find happiness in the most unlikely places if they look hard enough. That life is about searching for the light, even if it means growing through broken places to get there.