“Gabriel?”
I stiffen at the sound, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Turning, I see my father approach, his figure outlined against the soft glow of the setting sun.
His presence is both unexpected and unwelcome, but I suppress the urge to tell him to go away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone sharp and not at all respectful.
He grimaces as he draws closer, lingering only a few feet away from where I’m seated with my legs hanging over the dock’s edge.
“I spotted your bike in the parking lot as I was driving by,” he explains. “I just wanted to check on you. I know this is where you come when something’s wrong.”
I nod, a begrudging acknowledgment of his observation. Pier 39 has always been my sanctuary, a place to escape to when the chaos of my thoughts becomes too much. I don’t come here often anymore. Lately only on the anniversaries of Carlos’s death. But today, I don’t know, today I needed the ocean to help clear my thoughts away.
“I’m fine,” I reply curtly, turning my gaze back to the lapping waves.
My father sighs, his breath forming a cloud of mist in the chilly air. “You’re dressed awfully nice,” he says. “Almost like you just came from a wedding.”
My jaw tightens.
“You knew about that?”
He sighs and moves a few steps closer. “I did. I’ve known about the wedding for a couple of months now,” he says softly. “Today was the big day. Did you go?”
I tense at the mention of the wedding, the wound still raw in my chest. “Yeah,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. “I went.”
“How was it?” he asks.
“How do you think it was?” I scoff. “She’s replaced us with a new family. A new husband and two new sons now, in case you were wondering.”
My father’s expression darkens with sympathy. “I’m sorry, mijo.” His voice is heavy with regret. “I tried calling you when I found out. I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”
His words offer little comfort.
Sighing, I lean back against the dock, the rough texture of the wood digging into my palms.
“Whatever. Not sure why I expected anything different.”
He steps closer again before gingerly sitting down beside me.
“Your Mom and I, we were hurting after your brother passed away,” he murmurs. “It’s not an excuse,” he adds when I open my mouth to respond. “Simply an observation. You didn’t deserve what we did. You were hurting too, and we turned our backs on you when you needed us most.” He stares up at the sky. “Nunca me perdonaré por cómo te tratamos.”I will never forgive myself for how we treated you.“Pero si me lo permites, me gustaría intentar ganarme tu perdón.”But if you'll let me, I'd like to try earning your forgiveness.
“No sé si pueda hacer eso, papá.”I don’t know if I can do that, Dad.
He nods. “Cuando estés listo.”Whenever you’re ready.
He sits with me in silence as we watch the sky turn from pink to purple as night begins to take over. He doesn’t ask me any questions. He doesn’t push. He just sits with me, lending me his strength with nothing more than his presence as we listen to the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.
“I just ... I don’t get it, papá,” I admit, breaking the silence. “How could she move on like this? How could she just replace Carlos and me?” I’m still here, I want to tell him, but instead, I keep that last part to myself.
My father reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I wish I had the answers, mijo,” he says softly. “But sometimes, hurt people, hurt people. And your mamá, she’s been hurting for a very long time.”
I nod, his words sinking in despite my resistance.
“I should get going,” my father says, breaking the quiet once again. “But I’m always here if you need to talk. I mean that.”
I offer him another small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his offer. As he turns to leave, I’m left alone once again, the weight of his words lingering in the air. Hurt people, hurt people. That’s exactly what I did to Cecilia today.
With a heavy sigh, I pull out my phone and power it back on. As soon as the screen illuminates a call comes in, and seeing Felix’s name flash across the screen, I answer it.
