Page 32 of Love Unwritten
Perhaps if I get rid of the very reminders of her, then the guilt weighing on my shoulders will disappear as well, which is why I make a split-second decision to text her.
ME
You left your guitar and a few things here. Do you want to meet me somewhere so I can give them to you?
I spend the next five minutes waiting for a reply, only to find myself annoyed when she leaves me on read.
ME
Nico claimed your water bottle as his own now, so good luck trying to get it back.
I groan at how pathetic I sound.
To stop myself from texting her again, I busy myself with painting a new miniature figurine I designed. My latest creation took me two weeks of trial and error, and I nearly broke my thirty-thousand-dollar machine in the process of replicating Nico’s latest favorite superhero, but the stress was worth it.
Once my hand aches and my eyes droop from exhaustion, I shut the desk lamp off and head to my bedroom, checking my phone for any new messages. While the Muñoz-Lopez group chat has twenty missed texts and the Kids’ Table group chat has ten additional unread ones, my text thread with Ellie remains quiet.
I have no right to feel disappointed at her ignoring me, but I do, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with that.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rafael
My son’s resolve is admirable. I’m sure I’d be impressed by the lengths he has taken to make me reconsider Ellie’s position if I wasn’t so frustrated by his silent treatment.
First, he canceled his birthday party and asked my aunt to contact the amusement center a few towns over to refund my original deposit. Then, he called my assistant, Ariel—a number I gave him for emergencies only—and requested our family trip to be postponed until further notice.
According to my aunt, he called Ellie too, but she didn’t answer.
People say we shouldn’t negotiate with terrorists, but what happens when the one causing terror is my eight-year-old son? Do I give in to his demands, or do I stand strong despite feeling uncertain about my original choice to fire Ellie? Is there a point where I swallow my pride, throw in the towel, and say screw it, Ellie made a mistake, and I should forgive her for it?
As tempting as that option sounds, I can’t give in. My trust issues run deep, and Ellie’s secret tore through old scar tissue like it was cheap wrapping paper.
“¿Papi?”
Hearing Nico’s voice after his self-imposed silence startles me. I drop the paintbrush I was using and look up from the miniature villain I was working on.
“What’s up?” I keep my tone casual as I lean back in my chair.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Really?” Excitement bleeds into my voice, giving my emotions away.
He doesn’t smile or have that special spark in his eye as he nods, but I hold out hope.
You knew he would come around.
“Let’s go over here.” I step away from my desk and head toward the couch on the opposite side of my recreational room. Nico drags his feet behind me before taking a seat on his favorite chair. His feet dangle above the ground as he sits all the way back, and his sneakers light up when the heels smack together.
No matter how mature he tries to act, he will always be my little kid.
I take a seat. “What’s going on?”
He stares at the folded piece of paper on his lap. “I’m sorry.”
I blink. “What for?”
“Keeping my eyes a secret.”