Page 25 of Restored By the Mountain Man
There’s no time to argue with him. He slaps my back, guiding me out of the house. I feel her questioning gaze at my back. Creating separation is the best solution. Setting distance. Her presence is too comforting and becoming way too familiar.
Francisco whistles as we walk across to where the RV is parked. He wants to say something. I wait it out, just desperately wanting to face plant into the bed and not dream, think, feel.
“Do you believe in fate, Ezra?” he asks as we walk.
I give his question a moment. I respect the man. I don’t believe in bullshit answers.
“Once, I did,” I quietly reply.
He nods. “You know, Veronica wasn’t my first love.”
My feet almost trip on the next step but I keep quiet.
“Sofia. We met young. Loved wild. She was a beautiful young woman. Brought lots of light to my life.”
My jaw clenches anticipating his reasoning for sharing this highly personal story.
“We had six beautiful years together. Then, fate said it was her time.”
Now, my blood courses anger because fate didn’t take my wife and child.I fucking did.
“It wasn’t until another seven years of fucking my way around multiple bottles and almost losing what my father and grandfather bled to build that Veronica came and demanded my walls come down. She verbally kicked my ass when I got notice that the grain wasn’t sufficient or of quality for that year’s harvest. We lost a couple contracts. Her father and my father were best friends. She was there when I lost Sofia.”
We reach the RV and Francisco blocks the door by leaning on it, facing me. I cross my arms and wait for this damn story to finish so I can go to sleep.
He studies my face, no doubt tracking my anger. Grinning, he chuckles. “Ay, Ezra. Of all the women in the world, Veronica was the last one I expected to mend my heart and give me purpose to love again.”
I shake my head, staring off the distance at the manicured fields of grain.
“Mijo,” his hand at my shoulder startles me, forcing my eyes to look into his. “What happened to your wife and baby girl–,”
“Don’t,” my voice quietly but firmly warns.
“No matter the choice, complications happen. The best doctors in the world aren’t able to always predict what will go wrong.”
“I betrayed her choice. She made me promise her. I went against it. And fate,” I spit the word, “punished me for my selfishness. I lost them both,” I choke, reigning in the sob.
Francisco, three inches shorter than me but with the authoritative force of a man ten feet tall, takes my face in his hands. Just like Dad used to. My back molars are surely about to break with how hard I’m biting down the emotion.
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, will change the fact that she knew you loved her. Both of them. But, her body couldn’t fight. She left this world knowing she was loved. How many people get that, Ezra? And mijo,” he shakes me. “This self flagellation is not what she’d want for the man she loved. Me not living and not being loved is not what my Sofia would’ve wanted for me. I know that is not what Elizabeth wanted for you.”
The first rebellious tear falls. Francisco’s hands land on my shoulders, squeezing. “It’s time to expel the venom. It’s killing you. And a part of you wants it to.”
I don’t confirm or deny.
“That woman over there,” he tips his head toward the house. “I don’t know if that’s fate’s gift to you. Your Veronica. But, from an old man, wiser than you,” he grins, almost making me do the same. “Don’t let what might be more than fate…maybe somewhere, in another existence, your Elizabeth is sending you a chance. Because love beyond this life is unconditional in the purest form.”
Another damn tear. My arms, still crossed, squeeze as my chest fights to let in a proper breath.
“Stop punishing yourself, Ezra. Stop killing yourself. You still have so much life to live. And while theirs was cut short, we should see ours as a gift not meant to be wasted.”
He stares at me, serious, loving, paternal. He nods, a silent question.
Fighting the multiple voices of my familiar demons, I look into his hazel aging eyes and see his peace. And suddenly, I’m envious. I want to be his age and feel at peace.
I nod my acknowledgment. He pats my shoulders, pulling my head down and kissing my temple.
“Sleep well, mijo.”
