I know Claud looks forward to this time with her uncles. She spends weekends with them throughout the year, and they often take her to school in the morning or surprise her at pick-up if they can fit it into their schedule, but typically, we spread out the full weeks they take her in the summer.
This is the first time it will be back-to-back, and it’s killing me a little on the inside that she won’t be home with me for two weeks in a row. There is no way I won’t be making surprise visitsto see my girl during that time, since my stomach is already in knots just thinking about her being gone.
I won’t be able to deal without her.
Seb’s texting on his phone when I pull my attention back to him, and I stare at him for a minute while contemplating if I should ask him what’s been eating me alive all week. “How’s the new therapist?”
He stills, dropping his phone in his lap, then crosses his arms, glaring at me. “None of your fucking business, that’s how.”
“Actually, it is my business when my brother stops talking to me and the rest of us for two months.” It’s harsh to say, but hiding doesn’t help.
The five-year anniversary of Camila’s passing snuck up on us quickly, and it was a tough time, to say the least. Still, to this day, Sebastian handles her passing the worst of all of us—or at least the worst on the outside.
We’ve all taken on different ways to cope and honor her life—Rosa and Javier, Camila’s parents, honor her through Claudina. They do all Camila’s favorite things so Claud never forgets.
Rosa cooks all of Camila’s favorite foods. Together, they watch her favorite childhood television shows and visit all her favorite shops and museums.
Nate loves to sit around and share his favorite stories, and Leo masks his pain with humor. For me, I internalize my feelings the most, but it’s my job to protect Claud.
That’s how I honor my best friend—I be the best fucking dad I can be for that little girl.
I promised her I would live for Claudina, and that’s what I do every single day of my life.
Then there is Sebastian, who is completely unpredictable, and this year hit him harder than ever. He was suddenly busier than normal, not returning our calls, and would only talk to Claud.
The second I heard he would be missing her dance recital because he got pulled away for work, I intervened, knowing that was a lie, and if he was lying to Claud, things were worse than we imagined.
I tracked his phone to one of his LA hotels and found him so fucked up on booze he could barely function. Sebastian is a social drinker at best, so it only confirmed how bad he really was.
I forced him to go back to therapy and used Claudina as the driving factor, which might have been manipulative, but it did the job, and to me, that’s what was most important.
It struck him hard, and he made an appointment the next day.
Sebastian stands up in a rush, and the seat nearly falls over, lowering his voice to a deathly level. “I didn’t come in to get the third degree, and I don’t need some fucking quack to tell me I’m fucked up because my sister died of fucking cancer.” He takes a deep breath. “And maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fingers at other people.”
I veer back, “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you think because you hide your feelings that you’re so much better than the rest of us,” he screams. “Let me tell you, brother, you’re not.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snap, annoyed, then slam my fist on the desk. “And don’t project on me because I love and care for you. I’m allowed to fucking worry, Sebastian.”
The buzzer on my phone goes off. “Yes?”
“Shut up, you two.” I can tell the phone is muffled by the sound of Lauren’s voice, “Claud can hear you yelling, and you’re frightening her.”
“Fuck. Thanks for the heads up.”
I hang up, staring at Seb breathing erratically, and decide to take the high road and calm down, lowering my voice. “All Iasked was how the new therapist was. Not what you talk about or how you’re feeling.”
“I’ll see you Sunday.” He dismisses me and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
That went well.
Fucking shit. I run my hands over my face and only have myself to blame for bringing it up today of all days.
I’ve been on the phone with the board all morning, and on top of that, my Chief Legal Officer, someone I trust most in my company, just informed me he is retiring in the new year, elevating my stress levels even further.
If Claud weren’t in the other room, I’d be reaching for that thirty-year bottle of scotch staring at me from the bar, but she is, and she’ll unwind me better than any liquor, so I buzz Lauren to have her come back in here.
