The Billionaire Throuple

Andreas Santiago [Flashback: abuse]

Young Andreas Santiago [Five years earlier]

It was the first day of summer after I graduated middle school and I was ecstatic because I was going to be flying out to California to spend the week with my best friend Philippe.

Our parents had been close friends since high school, we lived on the same block, we went to the same school, we were in the same grade, our families split the babysitting and hung out in their free time, so we really didn't have a choice in becoming friends.

The funny thing? We were best friends before we understood any of that. We were inseparable before we could form thoughts.

If someone asked when I met my best friend, I could honestly say, "Couldn't tell you. We've always been. We were friends before we knew what friends, time or memories were. If you want to be a dick about it, fine. We met when our mothers carpooled to maternity class, before we were born."

You get it. Philippe was pretty much my ugly twin. We were closer to each other than our own siblings. When his family moved away two years earlier, I cried longer than I can remember. We still talked or texted every single day, but it wasn't the same as being in person. So, my excitement for this trip was inconceivable.

If I had to compare it to something, I'd say it was like a paraplegic finally getting on a plane to meet the wizard he's known about for months, who magically reforms limbs.

The first few times I brought up the idea of visiting Philippe, my parents said no. They couldn't miss work, couldn't afford to take the whole family, couldn't leave my siblings at home to go with me and they didn't want me flying across the country by myself.

All solid reasons, but I didn't give up.

I begged my Tío Marco to come with me. I had five uncles between my parents, but he was everyone's favorite. He always remembered birthdays, showed up for events and took us out for ice cream afterward, win or lose.

Showing up for us was the only way he could still be a father since he couldn't have children of his own. He fought leukemia as a child and chemo made him sterile. I thought for sure he'd yes, so I was beyond disappointed when he didn't. He said he couldn't afford a plane ticket. It was unfair of me, but I felt betrayed.

After weeks of being bitter and nagging my parents, they agreed to pay for his ticket, so I told Philippe it was a done deal and went to Tío Marco to break the news. He devastated me.

He told me he couldn't afford to take off work. If the last no was a betrayal, this was an outright assassination. In my mind, he lied to me. He should've told me there were other reasons, if he had them. Now, I had to call Philippe back and break his heart.

My despair was legendary. Tío Marco was dead to me. I refused to talk to him whenever he came around and I moped around in my room so much that my parents started to worry.

They talked my Tío Raúl into going with me by agreeing to take care of his son. That's what they said anyway. He actually lost a bet against my dad when he was absolutely shit-faced, but the how wasn't important to me.

As one could imagine, Tío Raúl wasn't at all excited about it. Every weekend, at family barbecues, he'd bitch and moan about how he got suckered into it and offer money to anyone who'd take his place. I didn't care. The trip wasn't about him.

Tío Marco eventually took him up on the offer to get back in my good graces. I felt awkward going with him after shunning him for so long, so I apologized and explained why I thought he had lied to me.

I told him how I cried with my best friend over the phone for hours and he teared up when he forgave me. He told me he hadn't seen it my way and felt terrible for disappointing me.