“Alex, baby,” I say gently. “Your sister has something to show you.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, shoving a slice of bacon into his mouth.
Teya slides the envelope across the table, her fingers lingering on it before letting go.
“I should have given this to you years ago,” she begins. “Eight years, to be exact. I’m sorry I waited so long.”
She pushes her plate aside and squares her shoulders. “It’s from Meera. But… there’s something you should know before you read it.”
Her eyes lift to mine, searching for strength. I give her a small nod.
When Alex doesn’t respond, Teya presses on.
“Remember the night of her graduation?”
“I try not to,” he grunts, biting into a biscuit. “So please… make this short.” He swipes another slice of bacon without looking up.
She glances at me, those hazel eyes, so much like his, flickering with doubt. She’s stalling, so I step in.
Reaching for the envelope, I push it closer to him. “This letter might hold a clue,” I say quietly, “to solving the puzzle on your back.”
This gets his attention. His eyes snap up.
“Your sister thinks Meera might have had another child, Alex.”
The plate clatters as he shoves back from the table.
“Goddamn it!”he barks, turning on Teya. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?! I was there too, remember? I saw the whole fucking scene—the rose, the kiss, the car, the asshole in the suit. It was obvious they were sleeping together! You think I missed that?!
“But you never said anything, Alex.”
He hurls his plate across the table with a crash. Crumbs explode in the air. “Because I couldn’t handle it!” he roars. “I still can’t!”
He slams his fist down hard on the table. Both Teya and I jump—hell, even the bacon leaps.
“Christ! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucker again! Still with that flashy-ass car, dressed like he owns the world! He even has the same fucking hair style!” His chest heaves, face flushed with fury.
I rise from my seat and circle around to him.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Yes, what are you talking about?” Teya echoes, breathless, digging through her purse. Her hands tremble as she pulls out an inhaler and takes a puff.
Neither of us noticed before, but now her shoulders are tight with strain, her lips are slightly parted, trying to calm herself. The room is dead quiet—save for the three of us trying to breathe.
Alex glares at the floor, his voice breaking.
“I saw him. Again.” His jaw clenches.
I crouch down and lift his chin. He looks up at me through hazel-tinted tears.
“Tell me, mi amor,” I whisper.
Tears spill down his face, tracing the deep bruise on his cheek. I gently brush my thumb over it, my heart breaking at the sight of him, so raw and wrecked.
His lips quiver.
I press a finger to them, soft but steady. “It’s okay. You can trust me.”
