Sophia
My siblings are great, but sometimes I need my fathers. This is one of those times.
Dad and Papa listen in silence as I let it all out. I tell them everything. The stuff that happened ten years ago, and the stuff that’s happened this month. Jumping to conclusions ten years ago and running away, then repeating the same behavior two weeks ago. Then, finally, I tell them the thing I’m dreading. “I went ahead with the sperm donation,” I whisper. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I found out today that I’m pregnant.”
“You’re going to have a baby?” My dad’s voice is saturated with joy. “Sophia, this is wonderful. I’m delighted.”
“It’s early,” I warn them. “Anything can happen. I can miscarry. According to the Internet, it’s a real risk at my age.”
Papa cuts to the heart. “Are you happy?”
Tears well in my eyes again at his tone of concern. “About the baby, yes. But I’ve killed any chance of getting them back. Even if they wanted to be with me, they’re going to change their mind after this.”
“They might,” Papa says. “Or they might not. You don’t know how they’ll react, not unless you talk to them.”
Dad sighs. “We thought we protected you from Denise,” he says. “I didn’t realize how much damage we caused.”
“You did protect me,” I say fiercely. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. You gave me a home. You gave me a family. And you didn’t cause damage; Denise did. This is not your fault.” I take a deep breath. “This is mine.”
“You know what you need to do, don’t you?” he asks softly.
Annette asked me the same question on Friday.
And I do.
I’ve spent my life being afraid. I ran from love because love made me vulnerable. If I was in love—if I was happy—it could be ripped away from me.
I've learned the wrong lesson from my childhood. No matter how ridiculous Denise's demands were, my fathers always met them. No matter how broke they were, they always found the money to pay her off. From the moment Denise dropped Ben and me off at her brother’s door and took off, Dad and Papa have been my family. I might have spent my entire childhood dreading being taken away from my home, but they never let it happen.
Somehow, I held onto the fear and not to the faith.
It’s over with Damien and Julian. Our relationship can’t survive my betrayal. Even so, I need to face them. I need to tell them the truth.
It’s finally time to stop running.
I pullup in front of La Vecchia. Damien’s SUV isn’t in the parking lot. Neither is Patricia’s, but that’s to be expected if her husband is dropping her off.
I go inside. The hostess shows me to my table. “Can I get you a drink while you wait for the rest of your party?” my waiter asks.
“Just water, please.”
Patricia arrives ten minutes later. We talk about work while we wait for Damien. Ten minutes pass, and then fifteen. I glance at my phone and frown. He’s always on time. Is he standing us up? But he wouldn’t. No matter what, Damien Cardenas is faultlessly polite.
Patricia’s phone rings. She answers and holds it out to me. “It’s for you.”
It’s Julian. “Sophia?” he says, sounding tenser than I’ve ever heard him. “Damien’s been in a car accident. He’s at the hospital.”
My heart stops. The room swims around me. This can’t be happening. It just can’t. This has to be some kind of sick, twisted joke.
I make my mouth form words. “I’m on my way.”