Page 90 of Through You
“Why did you break your engagement with Cristina months ago?”
I recall the conversation we had when he found out I had broken things off with Cristina, when he said my reasons were irrelevant and that the company should always come first.
Dad, is this you trying to change?
“Because I was interested in someone else,” I tell him.
He remains silent for quite a while. Then he lets out a long sigh. “You no longer have to worry about marrying Cristina.”
I immediately stop breathing. I’m speechless. My father tightens his grip on the railing, his shoulders visibly tense. Even though he’s facing away from me, I suspect his expression is full of emotion.
“I don’t believe in apologies, Artemis. I think actions are best when making amends for mistakes we make.”
“Dad . . .”
“I’m not quite sure when I became a terrible father. I guess my heart has been hardened by the pain I’ve endured. I can’t promise I’ll change overnight, but I can start to do things differently. So, please, be patient with me.”
My chest tightens. This man standing in front of me is the father I loved so much as a child, before he was changed by what happened with my mother. We would have water gun fights and bicycle races. He would also take me to the movies. He bought me my first soccer ball even though I sucked at playing. This man would display my Pokémon drawings in his office, not worried if clients or partners would see them. My father. He starts to leave but stops next to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“After all I’ve put you through, you never left my side, and you kept your promise, carrying a burden all these years that wasn’t yours to carry. But it stops now, my son. You’ve done an amazing job.”
He goes back inside the house, and his words remain suspended in midair. It’s like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I can finally breathe. I feel free. I become aware of how trapped I’ve felt all these years. And the first thing that comes to my mind is Claudia.
I reach for my cell phone and call Cristina, who is finally back from her trip. She sounds sleepy when she answers.
“Artemis? If this is a last-minute booty call, I can’t . . .”
“It’s over.”
“Wait, what?”
Is that a hint of excitement I pick up in her voice? I believe I wasn’t the only who was miserable in this arrangement.
“Cristina, we’re free.”
She lets out a long sigh of relief. “Really? Thank goodness.
No offense intended, but you can’t begin to imagine how happy I am to hear this.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“We can still be friends, right?”
“Of course. Good luck, Cristina.”
“Good luck, Artemis.”
I go inside and hurry downstairs, looking for Claudia. But I can’t find her in the living room or the kitchen. She must be in her bedroom. I knock on her door, feeling impatient. I’ve turned back into a fucking teenager. Martha opens the door with a smile on her face.
“Artemis.”
“Hello. I’m sorry to bother you but I need to talk to Claudia.”
I look around the room but it’s empty. My eyes zero in on the nightstand next to the bed where I notice the stuffed pig I gave Claudia that Fourth of July. She still has it? While my heart fills with hope, my brain fogs with confusion. She rejected me that night. Why did she keep a memento?
“Claudia went out. She said she’d be back in a few hours.”
“Do you know where he went?”
