He shakes his head vehemently.
“That was his grandfather. On his father’s side,” he explains, practically pleading for us to believe him. “She was estranged from us, his mother. His father’s family was…bad news. Always bad news. We didn’t know she’d died for several months, and when we asked about Antonio, all we got were lies.”
“What was my mother’s name?” Ant asks, his voice strong even as it shakes.
“Gabriela, the youngest,” he says automatically. Running his hand over his beard, the sadness in his eyes softens. “But she was so small we called her Gigi.”
Ant’s hand goes to his mouth as he lists to the side. Erik grabs him, crushing the photograph as he steadies him.
“Please,” the man says. “The picture.”
Erik, still holding Ant, extends the picture to the man, who tucks it into his wallet, then approaches Ant.
Ant’s chest hitches. “Wh-where did you get the picture?” he repeats.
“I—she bought a set,” he says, talking with his hands. “It was in a sheet. We all carry that picture. It’s the only one we have of you two together.”
“We?”
“Antonio, you have a whole family who loves and misses you. We have been looking for you for years.”
Shocked silence freezes the warm night air, and even the sounds of the country go quiet around us.
Ant’s eyes hold such hurt, my heart can hardly take it. He falls to his knees, and Erik kneels beside him, placing his large hand on Ant’s slim shoulder.
“Looking forme?” Ant repeats, his voice paper thin as if he dares not believe something so fucking unbelievable.
“For years,” Javier says, tears streaming freely down his face. “We have never given up on you. Ever. We have missed you, and we love you very much.”
Ant’s hands go to the soft dirt, and we all go still as sobs rack his small body. Erik, distraught, rubs his hand over Ant’s back until he settles. Finally, Ant takes a few deep breaths and sits up on his knees. Silently, he turns to Erik, who pulls him into a strong hug.
“We’ll get this all figured out,” Erik says, patting his back gently. “We’ll make sure this all makes sense. I promise.”
“How exactly did you find him from a local newspaper website?” Charlie asks, stepping in front of them.
Erik helps Ant to stand, and they brush themselves off, looking at our handsome stranger expectantly.
He’s shaking his head, blinking rapidly. “I-I didn’t expect it. I’ve had a Google alert on Antonio for years.Years.When I got the email notifying me, I thought it was a mistake. Another man named Antonio Allende. Because, surely, if he were still alive, his name would be different. That had been our hope, our best-case scenario. That he’d been kidnapped and adopted.”
Ant snorts, wiping tears from his face. “Yeah, no. That didn’t happen.”
“We stayed in the same area. My sister, your aunt, got married but kept her maiden name in case you were looking for us.”
“No. My grandfather said he tried to get the Hernández family to take me, but you said no, sell him.”
Javier balls his hands into fists, and we all step in front of Ant. He holds up his hands. “I’m not violent. Not toward the people I love. Señor Allende told us you were kidnapped.”
“You didn’t tell him to sell me?”
God, what a heartbreaking question.
Javier shakes his head, clasping his chest. “It’s been ten years. We’ve been devastated for ten years.”
Javier’s hands begin to shake, his chest rising and falling violently. His breaths speed up, and he stumbles backward, sitting hard on the steps, backlit by the powerful porch light. Gripping his knees, lowering his head to them, he can’t seem to get a hold of his breath.
“He’s hyperventilating,” I say, going to him.
Bram reaches into the truck, empties the little paper bag we use for trash, and joins me, holding the bag to Javier’s mouth. Javier grasps the bag, crushing it.
