"How much did he weigh?" he asks.
"Seven pounds, two ounces. Nineteen inches long. Born at thirty-seven weeks, one day. After we almost lost him at thirty-three weeks."
Miguel's head snaps up. "What happened?"
"Preterm labor. They stopped it. Put me on bed rest at the clubhouse for a month. Then labor started again at thirty-seven weeks. Seventeen hours, then he was here."
"Were you alone?"
"No. Zane was there. And Izzy.
Miguel's jaw tightens. "But not me."
"You said I was dead to you," I say quietly. "I didn't think I could call."
"You can always call. Even when I'm being an asshole." He looks back down at Santiago. "Especially when I'm being an asshole. Soy un pendejo. I know this."
Despite everything, I laugh. "That's a high bar you're setting."
Miguel sits carefully in the chair next to the bed, still cradling Santiago. He can't stop staring at him. Touching tiny fingers, counting tiny toes, speaking softly in the Spanish our father taught us.
"Hola, sobrino," he murmurs. "Soy tu Tío Miguel. I fucked up with your mamá, but I won't fuck up with you. I promise you that. You'll know your tío. You'll know where you come from. The Cruz side. Your abuelo's name, your family, your history."
"Miguel—" My voice breaks.
"Let me say this. Please." He looks back at Santiago. "Your mamá is the strongest person I know. She survived losing our parents. She became a nurse. She saves people every day. And she's going to be an incredible mother to you. Better than I was a brother to her."
"Don't say that."
"It's true. I abandoned her when she needed me. But I'm here now. And I'm not leaving again. Not you, not her, not this family." He looks up at me, and his eyes are raw with emotion. "If you'll let me. If you can forgive me."
The tears won't stop. I'm crying so hard Santiago starts to fuss, picking up on my distress even from Miguel's arms.
"You hurt me," I manage. "You really hurt me."
"I know."
"I needed you and you weren't there."
"I know."
"And now you show up because there's a baby? Because Izzy called you?"
"I should have shown up before. The second I said you were dead to me, I regretted it. But I was too proud, too stupid, too scared to admit I was wrong."
"Why now? Why come now?"
"Because Izzy called and said you had a baby, and I realized I've already missed five months of your life. Five months I'll never get back. Your entire pregnancy. The complications. The fear. The birth. I can't miss any more. I won't miss watching this baby grow up. I won't miss being your brother again."
Santiago fusses louder, and Miguel looks panicked. "Did I break him?"
Despite everything, I laugh through my tears. "He's hungry. And probably needs changing. You didn't break him."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." I hold out my arms. "Give him here."
Miguel transfers Santiago carefully, reluctantly. Like he's afraid if he lets go, the moment will evaporate, and we'll be strangers again.
