“I know you are. That’s why I’d like to explain and apologize. Please.”
“Don’t let him pressure you, Dee.” Jordyn says.
Since telling Jordyn to back off won’t earn me any favors, I keep my mouth shut. While my heart pounds over her silent indecision, Dee exchanges looks with her friends in some female code I can’t decipher.
Moments later, Dee returns her gaze to mine. I can all but feel the apprehensive energy beating off her. “I’ll give youfiveminutes and not a second more.”
I don’t argue the concession.
“We’ll be in your bedroom if you need us,” Lexie says with a supportive hand on Dee’s shoulder.
Jordyn casts me a killer glare before she releases my arm to give Dee a quick hug. I used to be the hero, the one who chased all her demons away. It chafes that I’m now seen as the bad guy. But after last night, I have no one to blame for that but myself.
“Could we sit down, Dee?”
She glances over at the kitchen, but as if thinking better of it, leads the way to the living room, where she takes a seat on the couch. Rather than selecting the upholstered chair near the window, I lower myself to the wooden trunk, which doubles as a coffee table. There’s little space for both of us to maneuver and our knees bump.
Dee jerks her legs to the side. The abrupt movement causes the neck of her long robe to gape. She clutches the lapels together, but I’m way ahead of her. Catching a peek of luscious cleavage has already sparked images of Dee naked beneath the terrycloth, all dewy and soft from her shower.
To distract myself from thoughts of peeling off her robe and chasing the subtle scent of vanilla, I lift my gaze to her face. And find it no less distracting. Her beautiful eyes, ravaged by tears and a sleepless night, resemble golden clouds right after a storm.
“Say what you have to say, Mick.”
I get my head together and lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs, and letting my hands dangle between my parted knees. “Dee,” I begin, “the things I said to you last night were unconscionable, from the crude insults to the way I told you about Cayo’s death. He would have had my ass for treating you that way. You didn’t deserve it or any of what I’ve dished out in the past five days.”
Her guarded expression is inscrutable, but I forge ahead, needing to get it all out. “For selfish reasons, I used your foster parents to unfairly pressure you into taking Dwayde’s case. I said you owed them a debt when that wasn’t true. Their love was never on loan or something you had to pay back. You were as much their daughter as Gabi and Maria were. They were sad that you left. But there was no bitterness or resentment.
“All these years, they’ve kept your picture on the table in the den with the other family photos. Papa T often spoke of you. And Mama T still refers to you as “mi preciosa hija.” She misses you.”
Tears spring to her eyes and the corners of her mouth quiver. “I’ve picked up the phone so many times, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if they’d even want to hear from me. I—” Her words trail off and she drops her head so that the dark curls curtain her face.
“I didn’t know he was gone,” she continues with emotion thick as cotton in her voice. “I didn’t read Dwayde’s entire file. I read only the summary. I told myself it was sufficient to get me started on the case. That I wasn’t cheating him. But the truth was, I didn’t want the details. I couldn’t handle reading about the family I left. I didn’t even ask Isabelle or Dwayde about them. I couldn’t.”
She looks up at me then through long lashes, her eyes glistening like polished windows into her soul. “You called me a coward the other day and you were right.”
“Dee—” I start to object, but she cuts me off.
“No, most of the things you’ve said to me are true. I did bail on the family who treated me as one of their own. I did hurt them and I’ll never be able to change that.”
Before last night, I’d convinced myself that Dee’s leaving was a heartless act. Now, I realize that it was easier for me to think of her as the villain. But looking at her now—so fragile, almost breakable, riddled with guilt and self-loathing—I know I was wrong. Whatever got Dee to the point of leaving had nothing to do with being callous. The decision obviously cost her and she is still paying for it. I don’t want that.
“Mama T and the girls are asking to see you. The only reason they haven’t called is they aren’t sure you want to see them. You can’t change the past, Dee, but you can start over. Anytime. It’s not too late.”
“It’s too late for Papa T,” she says, continuing to punish herself. “I should have been there for him…for my family…But I wasn’t. I don’t even know when or how he died. Tell me.”
“Dee, don’t do this to yourself.”
“Please, Mick.”
Those big, pleading eyes, swimming with tears, leave me no choice. “Last November, Cayo was diagnosed with terminal cancer,” I say, trying to keep my voice clinical to get through it. “They gave him less than six months to live.”
“Oh my God,” she breathes, covering her mouth.
“The news was shocking. We all operated on autopilot at first, mostly in denial until the reality of it set in. Mama T was the most stoic, staying strong for him and for us. Victor coped by being practical and ensuring Papa T’s garage was managed. The girls fussed over him. And Dwayde withdrew into himself and wouldn’t talk about it.”
“And you,” she whispers shakily, fiddling with the ties of her belt. “How did you cope?”
I open my mouth with every intention of telling her I coped just fine, but somehow the truth comes spilling out. “I was angry at the unfairness of it,” I confess, passing a hand over my hair. “Papa T loved life, he loved his family, and everybody loved him. He walked into a room and had instant friends. How could he be dying? How could the man I thought was invincible not be able to beat this thing? I couldn’t accept it. I wouldn’t.” My voice cracks and I clench and unclench my hands, trying to ward off the piercing guilt that hasn’t dulled in seven months. “I was determined to fix it. I had all this money—I could afford the best doctors and to send Cayo for treatment anywhere in the world. But none of it mattered. I still couldn’t save him.”
