Even if he hadn’t thought about his biological father in years, knowing he had one and losing him in a week felt like a cruel joke of life he didn’t quite like.
“This letter is to say that I’m proud of you, for the man you’ve become with that business of yours, for the Harvard scholarship, even though the shattered knee had definitely been a negative note. I got injured a couple of times, but never as severe as you or Alejandra. So I can’t relate to what you must have experienced, but I wished I was a better person and I would have cared more like a father than a sugar daddy.”
Alejandra scowled as she read, then continued.
“Enjoy my inheritance. It’s a bit of a mess. I really hope you and Leonor can make it work. A big hug, Mick.”
Silence fell in the apartment.
That must have been the weirdest letter anyone had ever written to him. What did he even want to say? Was he even apologizing for anything? He should have acted. If he really felt sorry, he should have acted, done something, stayed in Ericeira and spoken to him. Did he write that letter while high? That would explain half of the nonsense in there.
“How do you feel?”
He hadn’t even noticed Alejandra wrapping her arms around his midsection, her chin pressed to his chest as she looked up at him.
Before he could answer, his mother intervened.
“This letter shows that Mick never grew up,” she said firmly. “He was an amazing surfer, and that was it. He wasn’t a horrible person, just someone who didn’t have the means or desire to change and become better. Drugs and joints must have numbed his brain, and the overdose has probably been the last straw in a life of sadness and emptiness. Don’t feel sorry for him, Callum. Don’t feel sorry for someone who had the money to change his life but never took action. You can have all the tools to build a house, but if you don’t start from the foundations, it will crumble—and Mick crumbled.”
“I don’t feel pity,” he added. “I feel like this entire situation could have been handled differently, and he chose the worst option.”
“He didn’t know how,” Alejandra whispered, her gaze slightly empty, lost in her own thoughts.
“Do you pity him?” he asked her.
Alejandra shrugged.
“I pity the idea I had of him. And as I said to Carla today, I feel angry because if I didn’t hurt myself, I might have ended up like him—”
“Don’t be silly, Alejandra,” his mother barked from the phone. “You are nothing like Mick. There are tons of athletes in the world—career-driven, focused, single-minded—and you are one of them. But you have friends, a family who cares about you. You spoke so highly of your parents when you were here, and those friends of yours that married in Spain. You were never alone like Mick has been his entire life. So don’t compare yourself. And Callum, you too don’t have to compare yourself. You are the sun of my life, my happiness in the darkest moments, my anchor and my reason to live. Life without you, Callum, would have been bleak, and I’m so thankful I decided to keep you.”
Callum noticed tears streaming down his cheeks before he could stop himself.
He kissed Alejandra’s head and reached for the phone still abandoned on the coffee table.
“I love you, Mam. You’ve been the best parent I could ask for. I don’t care who my father was—I just care that I got the chance to grow up with you. I feel so lucky because of that. Because of you. Because of taid.”
His mother cried, sobbing, and he waited until she had calmed down before hanging up.
When he turned back, Alejandra was looking at him with the softest eyes.
“He lied. He said that I was looking at the waves, but back in Ericeira, you were the only person I was searching for—my only reason I wasn’t wrapped in a corner crying. You are such an amazing person, Callum. And how could I look at the ocean when I had you next to me looking at me like that?”
He stood, pulled her into a tight hug, and kissed her lips softly.
“I love you, Alejandra. I didn’t think I would ever say that—but I’m so glad you almost died at Pipeline.”
She barked a laugh, tipping her head back, her whole body shaking. “I didn’t think I was going to say it either, but I’m so glad I almost died at Pipeline. Underlying the ‘almost’, thanks.”
EPILOGUE
ALEJANDRA
Ya No Me Joden Las Fiestas - Paula Mattheus
A month and a half later
It wasnice being back home, especially because they were about to embark on a month-long trip through the States to see what that idiot Mick Turner had left his kids.
