Enzo
As soon as I had eaten enough, I got up from the chair without caring that others were still eating. I knew I'd be punished for this, but I didn't care. I was used to punishments by now. I felt so weighed down, uneasy and lost. I wasn't sure what to do. Maybe I relied too much on Papa, and now, I couldn't handle my feelings alone. I used to hug him or rest my head on his lap whenever I felt down. Now, without him, the emptiness was unbearable.
I rushed to my room and called him again.
"Papa, I need you right now," I said.
"Where do you want me to come?" he asked.
"How about the beach down here?" I suggested. "How long would it take for you to get here?"
"I can come right away," he replied.
"What? Where the hell are you?" I asked, suspiciously.
"Don't worry about that," he said.
"Just tell me, Papa," I insisted.
"I'm just a few blocks away from your Tio's house. There are some rental homes for tourists around here—I'm staying in one of them," he explained.
"Tell me which one," I demanded.
"Hey, you don't have to..."
"Just tell me now," I said firmly, and he finally gave me the address. I threw on a shirt and quickly climbed out the window.
Manuel
I heard a hesitant knock at the door, and I instantly knew who it was.
"Who's that?" Rachel asked, surprised.
"I'll check," I replied, heading to the door. As soon as I opened it, Enzo wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I hugged him back, pulled him inside, and closed the door behind us.
Racheal
Manuel's boss, Enzo, was hugging him tightly, and Manuel wrapped his arms around Enzo too, kissing the top of his head. They looked like a father and son reuniting after years apart. I stood there, stunned. I had never known they shared this kind of bond—it seemed as though Manuel cared for this boy more than he did for our own son. A small ache formed in my chest as I watched.
"I missed you, Papa," I heard the boy whisper, and I could hardly believe my ears. He was calling Manuel "Papa"? A part of me was relieved that Miguel hadn't seen his father embracing another boy like this. At the same time, I knew how much Manuel wanted to spend time with Miguel—he always tried to show him affection, but Miguel usually brushed it off, saying he wasn't a kid anymore.
"Me too, baby. Don't cry. I'm here now. You can call me anytime you want," I heard Manuel murmur softly. And in that moment, it dawned on me why he'd brought Miguel and me here so suddenly. This wasn't about a family vacation. He had come here to see Enzo, the boy he cared for as if he were his own son. I had no idea how to feel about it.
They finally broke the hug. Enzo's face was flushed, his lips red, and his cheeks wet with tears. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. Did he love my husband this much? It made sense, I supposed—Manuel had told me he'd been caring for Enzo since he was just two years old. And, surprisingly, Manuel was crying too.
"Are you two okay?" I finally asked.
Manuel looked at me as if he'd forgotten I was even there. He shifted uncomfortably, a hint of guilt crossing his face.
