Mother

Chapter 20

"So, Dad," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's the big plan? You call us down for a nice family dinner like none of us have a reason to be pissed?"

Dominic's heart sank, but he kept his voice steady. "I just wanted us to sit down together. It's been too long."

Julio let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, too long. Funny how you care now."

Enrique shot Julio a look, but didn't say anything. Ivan kept his eyes on his plate, picking at his food. Lorenzo was as still as a statue, watching Dominic closely, like he was waiting for him to say something that would make or break the moment.

"Julio," Dominic began, his tone calm, but the frustration was beginning to edge in. "I know I haven't been the father you needed. I know I've made mistakes—"

"Mistakes?" Julio interrupted, his voice rising. "You didn't make mistakes. You bailed. You left us to figure everything out on our own."

Ivan shifted uncomfortably, while Enrique sighed, running a hand through his hair. Lorenzo remained quiet, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, like he was studying the situation.

"I'm trying to fix that," Dominic said, forcing himself to remain calm. "I know it's going to take time, but I want to be here now."

Julio pushed his plate away, his expression hardening. "It's too late for that, Dad. You don't get to just show up and act like everything's fine."

The tension in the room thickened. Ivan stared down at his plate, biting his lip, and Enrique looked ready to leave. Dominic felt the weight of all those lost years pressing down on him, making it harder to breathe.

Lorenzo finally spoke, his voice cold and cutting. "This dinner was a mistake. We're not some happy family. You can't fix this with one meal."

With that, Lorenzo stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. One by one, the others followed, leaving their plates untouched. Enrique gave Dominic an apologetic glance before heading upstairs, and Ivan walked out without a word, his face clouded with emotion.

Julio was the last to leave, shaking his head as he stormed off, leaving Dominic alone at the table, the sound of the door closing echoing through the empty house.

Dominic sat in the stillness of the dining room, staring at the untouched plates, the tension of the failed dinner hanging heavily in the air. His mind raced through every moment that had passed, every wrong thing he'd said or done. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to lash out at the room itself, at the silence that had engulfed his family.

He stood up, ready to clear the plates, when he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps coming down the stairs. Dominic paused, his hand frozen mid-reach, and turned toward the sound. Teodoro.

Teo stood at the foot of the staircase, his small frame almost swallowed by the large, dimly lit room. His wide, dark eyes darted around nervously, as if unsure whether he should approach or flee. He hugged a small, worn-out plush toy tightly to his chest, something Dominic hadn't seen in years.

"Teo," Dominic said softly, standing awkwardly at the head of the table. "I... I didn't think you were coming down."

Teodoro didn't say anything, not that Dominic expected him to. The boy's selective mutism had only worsened as the years passed, and Dominic was still learning how to deal with it—how to communicate with a child who wouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, speak to him.

Instead of speaking, Teo's eyes flickered toward the plates on the table. He hesitated, then took a tentative step closer. Dominic watched him, his heart aching at how small and fragile Teo seemed at that moment, so different from the older boys. While his brothers had grown hard and bitter, Teo was still a mystery to him, a silent enigma that Dominic hadn't yet figured out how to protect or connect with.

"I... I saved you some dinner," Dominic said, his voice faltering as he gestured to the half-full plate at Teo's spot. He hadn't touched a thing since therapy. "Come sit. You must be hungry."

Teodoro stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly nodded, moving toward his seat. He climbed into the chair without a word, his gaze fixed on the food in front of him, but not making any move to touch it. His small hands rested on the table, his fingers brushing the edge of his fork but not gripping it.

Dominic sat back down, watching Teo with quiet anticipation, not wanting to push too hard. The boy's silence was something he had grown used to, but it still left him feeling powerless, like no matter what he did, he couldn't reach his youngest son.

"You don't have to eat if you're not hungry," Dominic said gently. "We can just sit here. No pressure."

Teodoro glanced up at him briefly before dropping his gaze again, his small hands still resting on the table. There was a faint shift in his posture, something Dominic had learned to recognize—a signal that Teo was trying, in his own way, to bridge the gap. But it was subtle, delicate, like a fragile thread between them.

"I know tonight didn't go well," Dominic continued, his voice low and even, more to himself than to Teo. "I didn't expect it to. But I'm going to keep trying, okay? For all of you." He paused, feeling the weight of his own words. "I know I've been gone for too long. I know you don't trust me. But I'm not giving up."

Teodoro's small fingers finally curled around his fork, but he still didn't raise it to eat. Instead, he looked up at Dominic again, his eyes searching, like he was trying to understand something that words couldn't explain. Dominic felt a flicker of hope—something that had been scarce in this house for years.

"Teo," Dominic said softly, leaning forward just slightly. "If there's ever anything you need... anything at all, I'm here. I'm not leaving again. I promise."

Teo blinked slowly, his gaze flicking toward the kitchen where Maria had disappeared, and then back to the table. The silence between them stretched out, but this time, it didn't feel as suffocating. It felt... different. Like maybe,  this was the first step toward something better. Toward healing.

Teodoro finally picked up a piece of food with his fork and took a small bite, his eyes still on Dominic. He chewed quietly, and for the first time in a long time, Dominic felt like he hadn't completely failed.

 He wasn't sure where things would go from here, how long it would take to fix the cracks in his family. But for now, Teo was sitting with him, eating, and that was enough. For tonight.