Because You're Different ✔

63. Barquito chiquitito

June

The world was blurry through the tears stuck to my lashes. Currently, there was nothing but cigarettes and old-man sweat, a beating heart, and a large, rough hand stroking my back. I'd told myself I wasn't going to bother my parents with my crushed dreams, told myself they had it bad enough as it was, that they didn't need me bawling all over them. Dad needed his rest. I'd make him a late-night dinner, maybe some basic tacos, and he'd go to bed. Then I'd be alone, and I could cry again.

That plan had failed the minute he came home and sent me one of his loving, tired smiles.

I'd immediately started sobbing, and he'd rushed himself towards me, sheltering me in his arms. I'd nestled myself into his embrace, holding onto him tightly. He was still my dad. He might smell differently, but he was still my dad. He would never abandon me. As he'd whispered soft words to me, like he'd always done when I was young and abuela had yelled at me, I'd slowly calmed down, until finally, I was able to explain what happened that morning, and last night.

I couldn't believe he'd left me. Again. He'd kissed me, and he'd said I was worth it, and then he'd left. Why would he do that?

At first, I'd figured he was afraid of Sam. Understandable, with the reaction I'd gotten. Sam had shouted at me, basically slut-shamed me, yelling I shouldn't bring random guys home to fuck them. I'd been perplexed — how could he say such things? What would he have said if he knew it'd been his brother?

I'd been sure Nathan would call me soon, to say he was sorry and that he was coming home quickly to kiss me again, whether in secret or not. After a few hours had gone by, the worry had set in. With each unanswered call and unreceived text message, my muscles had become tighter, my movements jerkier, while a little voice in the back of my mind fought its way to the foreground, hissing harsh thoughts into my ear.

The sun was setting, the street full of children being called in to eat, and still, I hadn't heard from him. Why would he do that to me?

Dad sighed, lifting my head from his chest to plant a sweet kiss on my cheek. His breath smelled bad, like an ashtray that hadn't been emptied for weeks. I didn't want to hurt him by backing off, so I tried to concentrate on his friendly, familiar eyes instead. "Maybe he just needs some time, hm?" he said, clumsily caressing my hair. "Men are slow when it comes to matters of the heart."

Some time. It'd been thirteen hours since I woke up. Seemed like more than some time. "You asked mom to marry you a month after your first date."

Truthfully, she'd rejected him twenty times before she'd finally given in, but that didn't take away it'd been easy for my dad. Easy to know. Easy to confess. Easy to love. Dad loved anyone who'd ever been remotely kind to him. It was just who he was.

Nathan had known me for two and a half years. Shouldn't he know me well enough to just know?

Dad chuckled and bumped his fist onto his chest, right where his heart was. "Yeah, I'm a very special man. Let me tell you a secret, hey," he leaned closer to me, like he used to do when mom had forbidden him to help me with something and he did it anyway, "I'm soft inside, I am. Soft like a baby's skin. It's why I need your mom. I'd be nowhere without her. That's why I was sure I had to marry her. Even if I had to ask a million times. I knew she wanted to say yes, but she couldn't, y'know? Wasn't in her nature."

Despite the few last tears running down and the tight soreness in my throat, I managed to smile. He immediately smiled as well, a bright one that made all of the lines in his face disappear. "Wish I'd find a man like you," I said. "I would say yes in an instant." That probably wasn't true — the idea that you could love someone after only a month was surreal to me. People needed time to get used to me. How could I love someone if they still eyed me nervously every time I struggled to tie my laces, or asked if I needed help when I was about to do something absolutely easy?