Together As Mutants (Book Six)

Chapter 50: Papá and I

Taylor lays awake, wondering whether or not it's too late to back out of her mother's ill-conceived beach trip. She tosses and turns, the blankets getting more and more tangled around her legs as she grips her hair, wishing her mind would just shut up.

Is it possible to expect nothing and still be disappointed?

When she found out her mamá was coming to visit, a part of her yearned to feel anything other than dread, than betrayal. She let herself believe in the fairytale image of being lovingly reunited with a mother who, despite her shortcomings, could see her mistakes and maybe...apologize? Or try to make it up to her?

But, no. Her mother is just as gorgeous and just as fickle as she was when she left almost eight years before. Taylor knew she had step-siblings, but seeing those two beautiful little girls and that beautiful little baby sent even more knives into her back.

She wanted to believe her mamá wasn't a cheater, that she left her papá and ran off to find happiness, but with the timeline Taylor sees, she was married and with child barely a year after she left them. It makes Taylor wonder whether her mamá had ever truly loved her.

She flips the blankets off and gets to her feet. She leaves the bedroom, pushing her hair from her eyes as she stumbles her way to the kitchen. Her eyes itch with longing for sleep and her mouth is dry.

But, when she reaches the kitchen, there's someone sitting at the island, a glass of water in hand.

"Papá?" Taylor asks.

Jack looks up at her. The dark circles under his eyes seem far more prominent, illuminated by the light of the moon and the harsh streetlight spilling through the windows and the ghostly glow of the digital microwave face. He lets out a long sigh as he scratches the shadow of stubble on his jaw, his subtly handsome features drawn with exhaustion.

"Hi, Taylor."

He speaks in Spanish, the words soft and familiar to her. It reminds her of how he'd read her bedtime stories in Spanish, back when she was still learning how to juggle learning two languages.

She inches closer, worrying her lip between her teeth as her dad looks back at her.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks. Still Spanish.

She responds in kind. "No. You?"

"No."

She fills a cup with water and joins him at the island, a single stool keeping space between them. He lets out a long sigh, running his hand through his hair. It flattens beneath his palm, then springs back up the moment it's passed.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

She tilts her head at him. "For what?"

An exhale, a sad laugh. "For everything," he says. "When..." He purses his lips, looking at her with those same hazel eyes she inherited from him. "When your mamá left, I...I fell apart. That...that broke me in ways I-" He stops again, fumbling over his words, struggling to find the right ones. "I..."

"It's okay, papá."

"No. No, it's not." He takes a drink of water, throat bobbing as he swallows it down. The cup clinks against the countertop. "Nights like these, all the regrets just...pile up."

She shifts over to the stool right at his side, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "Mine too."

He shakes his head. "You're too young to have regrets. Nothing that should weigh on you like mine do."

She keeps her mouth shut even as her chest tightens. He knows about her time with the Purple Dragons, but he doesn't know about what she did to Raphael and his family. He doesn't know how she spends every minute she can proving that the second chance they gave her wasn't wasted. He'll never know, if she can help it.