"I have a daughter," he says wonderfully. "All this time, I had a daughter, and I didn't know."
"You do. And she turned out okay, in case you were wondering."
He laughs, a sound caught between joy and sorrow. "More than okay. Elena would be so proud of you. You're brilliant, talented, successful. You have her strength."
"And your stubbornness, apparently."
This makes him smile. "I can see that. God, Violet. I don't even know where to begin. There's so much I want to ask you, so much I want to know."
"We have time," I say. "That is, if you want to. I understand if this is too much, if you need space to process?—"
"No." His voice is firm. "No, I don't want space. I want to know everything. I want to know about your childhood, your education, your dreams. I want to know what Elena was like as a mother. I want to..." He breaks off, overwhelmed.
"We can take it slow," I assure him. "This doesn't have to change everything. I'm not looking for you to suddenly become my dad. I just... I wanted you to know."
"But I want to be," he says urgently. "I can't get back the years I missed, but maybe we can start building something from here?"
The hope in his voice makes my eyes water. "I'd like that."
We talk for another hour, sharing stories, filling in pieces of each other's lives. He tells me about his career, his regrets, his failed marriage that ended because he was too focused on work. I tell him about growing up with my mother, about college, about how I found my way to Season.
"You came to work here because of me," he realizes.
"Partly. But I stayed because I love what I do."
"And the promotion offer?"
"Had nothing to do with this conversation. I genuinely believe you're the best person for the position."
By the time I leave his office, my entire world has shifted. He's going to take some time to process everything, and we'veagreed to have dinner later in the week to continue our conversation.
I'm barely holding it together when I get back to my desk. The emotion of the day is overwhelming, and all I want is Santiago's arms around me.
I text him:
I told him. Can you come get me?
His response comes through in just a couple of moments:
On my way.
Jessie notices my state as I pack up my things. "Violet, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I just had a life-changing conversation. We need to raincheck lunch if that's okay? I'll explain everything at lunch tomorrow, promise?"
She nods, concern clear in her eyes. "Just... take care of yourself."
Santiago is waiting in the lobby when I get downstairs, looking devastating in his usual black jeans and leather cut. When he sees me, his expression immediately shifts to something like being concerned,
"Hey," he says softly, pulling me into his arms right there in the middle of the busy lobby. "How did it go?"
"Can we go home? I'll tell you everything, but I just need to be alone with you right now."
"Of course."
The ride back to his apartment is quiet, his hand resting on my thigh as we navigate traffic. When we get inside, I finally break down, all the emotion I've been holding back flooding out at once.
Santiago gathers me into his arms, letting me cry against his chest while he strokes my hair.
