Page 201 of Love Unwritten
My own eyes water, but I blink away the tears, not because I’m uncomfortable, but to save my aunt from breaking out into sobs of her own. Tía has called me her son countless times, but today, I allow myself to believe it. To accept that I have a place in this family as my true self.
Por favor. No llores: Please. Don’t cry.
Perdón, Tía. Por todo: I’m sorry, Aunt. For everything.
Feliz: Happy
Nunca en tu vida: Never in your life.
No more hiding. No more lies. No more pretending that I’m someone else, solely because I thought it would make people like me more.
“¿Tía?”
“¿Si?”
“I have a few things to tell you.”
“Is it about you secretly dating Ellie?”
I can’t help laughing. “No, but more on that later.”
“Hm. Que triste.” She wipes underneath her eyes.
My eyes roll. “It’s about me.”
She pops her head out of the bathroom and calls to check in on Nico before shutting the door behind her. “What?”
“I want to talk to you about before.”
Her head shakes hard enough to send a few strands of hair flying. “You don’t have to talk to me about it.”
“I know that but I want to anyway.”
My aunt and I spend the next hour sitting on the floor of her guest bathroom, swapping tissues and stories while I pour my heart out to her. Opening up to Ellie, Nico, and Julian was cathartic, but talking to my aunt about my difficulties…
It was everything I needed and more.
At one point during our conversation, she hugged me and hasn’t let go since. It’s been so long since she held me like this, and it’s all my fault. I thought keeping her at a distance would protect her from getting hurt, but it only caused her more pain, knowing I was suffering and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
Que triste: How sad.
She brushes her fingers through my newly cut hair. “You have always been one of the greatest gifts life gave me.”
For the first time, I choose to believe her instead of finding a hundred different reasons to deny it.
“For years, I used to feel selfish for being happy to have you in my life,” she confesses in a broken whisper.
My chest clenches. “That doesn’t make you selfish.”
“It does, but I’ve made peace with it. I just wish I could have saved you from all the pain—both before your parents passed and after.”
“I didn’t feel—” I stop myself from lying. “You couldn’t have done anything to help me through that.”
“I could have done something. It’s not like I wasn’t aware of what you were doing.”
My chest pinches. “I thought I did a better job at hiding it.”
She pats my cheek. “Only because your uncle and I let you believe it.”