Chapter 27

Emily

I kept walking until I reached the kitchen and found him sitting at the table, waiting for me.

He hadn’t been drinking again! I took a deep breath, thanking the heavens for the strength he’d found to stay sober another day.

“How’s your arm?” he asked, embarrassed.

“Just a few stitches, no big deal. I should’ve come back earlier, but I went to the lake with Bianca.” He gave a forced smile, his sad and tired expression deepening.

“It was all my fault. Marcos was right to take you out of here,” he confessed, catching me off guard. I hadn’t imagined he was dwelling on this. “If I hadn’t spilled liquor on the stairs last night, none of this would’ve happened. I swear I only took one sip and regretted it. I shouldn’t have left the bottle there.” His words stumbled out, like a boy confessing to his mom, seeking forgiveness.

I hurried to him, grabbed his hands tightly, and looked into his eyes.

“You don’t have to blame yourself, for God’s sake, Dad! You’ve been through hell since Mom passed, and you faced it almost alone,” I said, voicing the truth I’d realized these past days. I’d only thought of my own pain, forgetting everyone around me. “I just want you to stop this self-destruction. You still have so much to live for.”

My dad took a deep breath and looked at our clasped hands. I saw a small smile form on his lips.

“I made lemon cake. You still like it?” Whenever I was sick or hurt, Mom’s lemon cake always cheered me up.

I grinned widely. Of course I loved it, and it only made me more hopeful about how we’d work things out.

“I do. But first, I want to talk to you,” I said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. “Today, talking with Marcos, I realized I need to be honest with you and tell you everything that kept me away from São Fernando all this time.” I poured it all out with every ounce of courage I had, before I started crying uncontrollably.

“Lucas came by today,” he said, referring to the pastor. “He made me see some things I couldn’t see on my own. You go first, then I’ll talk.” He gave me the cue to continue, and my heart felt lighter.

I needed to thank Pastor Lucas for coming to make him listen to reason. Just having him here, listening without stones in hand, was a huge step.

“When I left that night, I thought Marcos was deceiving me. He planned for me to overhear him saying awful things about me, claiming he had other girls. You know we had plans to live together in a year. When I heard those things, all I wanted was to run and hate myself for being so stupid and falling for him.”

He’d never heard why I fled that night and seemed shocked by what I was saying. Those actions didn’t match the boy he knew, let alone the man who always helped him.

“When I got to São Paulo, I threw myself into college, wanting to forget everything here. But three months later, I found out I was pregnant.” His eyes looked like they’d pop out of his head. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to form words, so I continued before he could process. “I tried reaching Marcos every way I could before telling Fernando, but it was no use. I thought if Marcos knew about the baby, he’d rethink everything he said and did, but no one could find him. It was like he’d vanished from the face of the earth…”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Call me? Damn it! I would’ve made him show up, even if I had to drag him from hell!” he interrupted, losing all his calm composure. “Where’s my grandson or granddaughter?”

“I wanted to talk to Marcos first, to clear everything up. That’s when I decided to come back here, thinking I could find him. But… when I was at the bus station waiting, I started bleeding. People didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to do, help took forever to arrive and take me to the hospital.” The tears I tried to hold back filled my eyes, blurring my vision, but I continued. “They couldn’t do anything. I had a miscarriage, passed out, and woke up in the hospital with Fernando freaking out beside me.”

I felt his hands grip my arm tightly, pulling me into a tight hug where I broke down. I’d waited so long for this hug, his fatherly embrace, that all I could do was smile through my tears.

“Sweetheart, you should’ve called me. I would’ve rushed there and stayed by your side—me and your mom,” he murmured into my hair.

“Fernando didn’t know I was coming back. I left without telling him, and he only found out when the hospital called.” I explained better, thinking maybe if I’d brought someone with me, it wouldn’t have happened like that. I pulled back to finish. “I was six months along, my belly was already showing, and I didn’t want to wait any longer to tell Marcos. But then this happened, and I blamed him. I blamed him for hurting me, for making me run, for not answering, for losing our child, and for making it impossible for me to have another pregnancy.” I finished with the doctor’s final diagnosis. “I was eighteen, had just had my heart broken by the only man I loved, and now they were ripping away my dreams of having a family because of him.”

My dad stood and stepped back, turning away from me at a safe distance. His clenched fists at his sides showed he was holding himself together, trying to stay in control after all that had been hidden from him for so long.

“You couldn’t…” His voice came out so hoarse it startled me. “Your brother couldn’t. I’ll kill Fernando when I see him again!” I stood, trying to reach him. “You were just a teenager!” he shouted, meeting my eyes.

“I know, but no one was to blame. Not Fernando, and now I know, not Marcos either,” I murmured, trying to calm him. I still needed to get to the part where I learned the truth. “I hated him with every fiber of my being and nurtured that deep inside me. There was no going back, nothing to do here, and it reminded me of everything that happened. I just kept it all inside and told no one, especially after Mom got sick, and everything turned upside down.”

“You should’ve come back. We would’ve been by your side. None of this would’ve happened to you, my love,” he said, raising his hands to touch me but stopping, letting them fall helplessly to his sides.

“I chose to drown in work and studies, forgetting everything. When Mom got sick and they came to São Paulo, I told her everything that happened, and she understood. She asked me to stay away until my heart was healed. But it didn’t happen, and I hated myself and Marcos long enough for not having the strength to come see her.”

Aside from Fernando and Helen’s wedding, my parents’ visits to São Paulo only happened at year’s end. We didn’t see much of each other since I left home. The only time I came to town was for Mom’s funeral, and even then, I left the same day.

“I couldn’t lose another parent. I couldn’t stay in my comfort zone knowing what was happening to you,” I said, sitting back down, hoping he’d do the same. “My plan was to convince you to come with me and sort everything out there, but this was better. It gave Marcos the chance to tell the truth, the reason he did it all.”

I explained everything to him, from the plan with Bruno to when Marcos looked for me now. His expression of horror and despair was the only sign he was taking it all in and would speak later.

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured when I finished and fell silent, waiting for him to say anything. “I want to tear that boy apart, but I understand why he did it now.” Incredibly, he grabbed a plate and started serving food from the pots, shaking his head. “Your mom had perfect timing. She always knew the right moment for everything. I’ll never understand it,” he said, marveling, as he served me. “This was the moment for your heart to open and heal again.”

“She always took care of us, even when we didn’t know,” I said, smiling.

I grew more radiant as he spoke of her without sadness in his voice for the first time since I’d arrived.

“Like she did with her roses—you have to tend the soil first, make it soft, free of stones, pests, and weeds. Only when the soil is healed and ready can you plant your seeds and expect something good. Otherwise, you’ll lose all your effort, investment, and seeds.” He made a perfect analogy between her care for the soil and for people. “That’s how it was with your heart, dear. You waited, and now that you’ve removed your stones, the soils healed, ready to plant again.”