The Shadows of Memory Lane (Book 2) [Gxg]

Chapter 25

His eyes were wide as he stared at his father. The one that had left him fourteen years ago. The love that had never faded away flooding into his orbs of green and blue. The flecks of silver and gold in his irises were caught in a hurricane of emotion, they swirled around, wanting to escape the rush of feelings. He'd gone stiff, unable to move, petrified. A part of him, the blue eyed side, wanted to be his five year old self again and rush into his father's arms, but his green eyed side felt the betrayal seeping through his veins. The anguish, the pain, as he watched helplessly when his mother and brother worked until they passed out from fatigue. The four years that haunted him over and over again, playing like a movie on his retinas. He watched his mother's death in slow motion. His guiltless brother being dragged behind bars. Cold, hard metal bars. Being pushed around by ruthless, merciless men in uniforms. His nerves were overwhelmed from the controversy that was ripping his body apart. Tearing his soul. Suddenly he was five years old again. His fatherly figure, the man he'd thought to be his hero disappearing from his life, turning his world upside down. But all his blue eye could see was him being lifted up by his father and being carried around the house, zooming under the arches and through the doors, an aeroplane in flight. His black hair stubbornly covering his eyes. His first haircut, when he'd glanced at the sharp metal objects and shuddered. When his father had wordlessly reassured him that everything was going to be fine by giving his hand a squeeze and a slight smile. He felt pain all throughout his body, he started shivering uncontrollably, but suddenly he was anchored. Reeled back into the harsh present by a small soft hand, fit perfectly into his calloused, slender hand. He looked up at the owner of the hand, the only person who had ever had claim on his heart. That dream... it had never been Haley. It had been Amia. Amia in all her serenity, but devoid of innocence. Amia with her obsidian eyes and brownish black hair and delicate features. The eyes that were always complimented and lit up by a smile but held darkness behind. Amia. It had always been Amia.

"Juan... are you alright?" she asked in a small voice, so only they could hear.

"No mi amore, that's my father. I'll explain later, but I have to get out of here."

Her expression was grim but understanding as she let him go.

Linda finally understood why Guillermo looked familiar. His features, everything, they had been gifted to Juan. His gentle yet deep voice, with a tint of mischief. His green eyes, were an exact replica of Juan's one green eye. His black hair, perfectly styled, had been copied and pasted on Juan's head with a little alteration. Juan's hair was always perfectly tousled. His square jaw, his slender nose. His long lashes that kissed his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Juan Juan Juan. How could she not have seen it before?

"Jime" Linda said in a hurried tone, realisation hitting her, to a Jimena who was looking extremely confused and perturbed but the situation on hand, "You never told me your last name..."

Jime recovered from her dazed state and looked at Linda, a little surprised, "I never did, did I? I'm so sorry."

"What is it?"

"Velasco. My name is Jimena Andrea Velasco."

"Oh gods. And your father... Guillermo Velasco?"

"Naturally, yes. Last time I checked that's how surnames worked. What's going on?"

"I don't know Jime. All I know is that your father owes all of us an explanation."

Again with the explanations. Again with adults messing up their lives. Linda had gone down this path before, it had ended with Haley's death. This couldn't be happening again. Every cell in Linda's body rebelled against the situation, but there was no way she could alter it.

She looked at the man, Guillermo, staring at Juan as if he'd seen a ghost. But there was something floating in the pools of green he had for eyes. Nostalgia? Shock? Pride?... Love? There was a sort of longing when he looked at Juan. As if he had left him without wanting to. As if he'd left him to suffer and fend for himself against his own wishes. As if destiny had carried him down a miserable path. This infused more anger into Linda's nerves that were already revolting against Guillermo.