“Adam...” The woman croaked, voice hoarse as fresh tears fell from her damp eyes. “When you. . . when you told me your name was Adam Garcia. . . I. . . I. . .I told myself it wasn't you even though you looked so much like Refugio. But it. . . it's you. It really is you. My. . . my son.”

What? She was happy to see him? Then damn Adam loved her to the pits of hell.

He noticed the movement of her hand and quickly caught her by the wrist before it could touch his cheek, having a visceral feeling that another anathematized touch from her was going to wreck more havoc than it'd already done.

She winced, probably because he was squeezing her wrist too tight. Good, she deserved far more than that.

“Your son, huh?” He chuckled. “So now I'm your son? You fucking remembered now that you have a son?”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You don't know how much...” She trailed off, her body quavering as sobs racked through her body.

Adam was damned if he felt even an iota of pity for this woman, but he knew all too well what she going to say.

“What don't I know? How much you regret having left your two sons when they were just kids, one just an infant? That's going to make everything right in your opinion, isn't it?” He chortled. “Which planet are you from, Rebecca?”

He let go of her hand, feeling disgusted that he was even touching a woman like her. The hand immediately flew to her mouth as if she was trying to contain her sobs.

“I've never stopped regretting leaving my children and it haunts me everyday. But...” she sobbed. “I swear I looked for you. I came back a month after I'd left to find out you guys had moved from Los Angeles and gone to Mexico. I. . . hired a PI and It took me four years to find you. When I did, your dad kicked me out of the house. He said. . . he said he didn't want to be with a woman like me and he didn't want me to be a mother to his children.”

“You came looking for us?” Adam huffed at her audacity. “You think lying is going to get you anywhere? My dad would've told me about it.”

Her eyes widened, looking at his beseechingly. Adam scoffed. “I did! I swear I did!”

“And you think you can justify yourself with that? Leaving your children at the point of their lives when they needed you the most? And all for what? Your parents' money.”

Shame coloured her face before she covered it with her hands and sobbed into her palms. When she took off her hands, mucus was dripping down her nose.

She grabbed a tissue from a compartment in her car and wiped it clean. Grabbing another one, she wiped her eyes dry, but when she finally looked at him, fresh tears were streaming.

“I let the money influence my decisions. I know I wasn't the best mother, but I swear I wanted to take you boys with me. But my dad... He didn't want anything to do with you. It was either I returned alone to be part of their wealth or I didn't at all. I was still young. . . naive. I thought going back for my inheritance would be the best decision. Then I would find time to be with you guys regularly until things were stable enough.”

“That's why I came a month later looking for you guys only to find out your dad had taken you to Mexico. When I found you and he kicked me out, I told him I was going to fight. That I was never going to give up until he let me be with you. When I returned the next day, you'd vacated the neighbourhood again. You never stayed at one place for long, tampering with any way of tracing you.”

It all made sense now why four years after they'd moved to Mexico, his father kept moving them from place to place, crashing with a friend, hiring single rooms in rundown neighbourhoods. Why didn't his father ever tell him Rebecca had come looking for them?

That still didn't justify her abandonment though.

Adam let her sob for a while, giving the impression that her words had begun to get to his emotions. When her sobs had subsided into hiccups, he leaned across his seat, looking into her.

The piercing brown depths were filled with regret, shame, the need for forgiveness. Too late for that.

“How so commendable that even though you were thinking about money, you still thought of us.” Then suddenly, the cool facade he'd tried to put up crumbled and smashed like fragile glass, and he yelled, “Bullshit!”

She flinched, and that was exactly what Adam wanted. He continued through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth,

“We were your children. If you had ever really cared about us, then you would've put us before your stupid greed for money. Not just made time simply because your father would've probably disowned you again if he saw you were going after us.”

He wasn't. He wasn't going to cry in front of this woman. Even though his eyes were burning and his throat felt so constricted he feared he would choke.

Suddenly all the emotions his mother's leaving had put him through that day and for most parts parts of his life came rushing back.

The agony, the painful confusion, the loneliness, the feeling like he wasn't worth it, that no one could love him enough to want to stay forever.

They all came smashing down on him, a deluge that suddenly zapped all the energy from his system. He watched, exhausted, as the woman who called herself his mother bowed her head on the steering wheel and her body convulsed all over again.

When she finally calmed down again and looked back at him, he made sure his gaze was even more penetrating as he stared into her eyes.

“The only reason why I came here. . . was just to let you know how much I hate you. Hate?” He chuckled derisively at the word which barely described what he felt for the woman in front of him.

“I despise you. I detest you. With all my heart. With my very soul. With every drop of blood that runs through my body. With every breath I take. I detest you, Rebecca West.”

“No. . . no. . . Please no.” Her voice croaked again as her body shook, head shaking in a silent request that he revert his words.

Opening the door, Adam finally got out of the suffocating space. People were walking around, and he knew he didn't have much time. It was building hard and fast.

Walking away from Rebecca's car, he practically ran the rest of the way behind it until he was in the confines of his Range Rover.

Then he finally let all the emotions slam through him unrestricted, giving in to the tears. Sobs racked through his body- regret for what might've been, dread for what the future held.

He'd finally been able to tell his mother all the things he'd dreamed so frequently about telling her but it had come with a price that was too high. A price he ineluctably had to pay.

He and Eva could never be together.

***

Eva pressed Adam's number, dialing once again. Between two hours ago and now, she must've called about fifty times.

Earlier, she'd gone to Adam's house the time they'd scheduled for dinner. She must have pressed on the doorbell ten times, yet nobody had opened the door.

After spending an hour in front of his door and dialing his number repeatedly, she'd finally left and headed for June's house. An hour later and he still hadn't picked up her calls or returned them.

Irritated, Eva hang up when the phone dialed about halfway through. Damnit Adam. Where the fuck are you?

“He's still not picking up?” June asked, slumping on the couch beside Eva and placing the box of ice cream on her lap. It smelled of vanilla.

“No. I don't know what the fuck is going on.” Eva groaned.

June scooped a spoonful of the icecream into her mouth. “Don't worry. I'm sure he'll call soon.”

The assurance did nothing to abate Eva's worry. “He's never done something like this, June. He's always punctual about our dates and he pulls through all of them. Besides, this wasn't just any kind of dinner. I was going to meet his father.”

June practically spit ice cream, eyes widening. “That quick? Wow, things seem to be escalating quickly.”

“No, it's not that. Adam came to my office today and mum barged in on us. Long story short, it was all awkwardness. I decided I wanted to meet his father so that we were even.” Eva explained.

The look on June's face suggested she had her doubts. “Okay, well maybe Adam freaked out because you meeting his father would make what you have all the more serious and since all he wants is fun with you, he...”

“Seriousky, June?” Eva bit out. “That's what you have to say?”

June raised her hand in surrender. “I was only making a suggestion. Don't bite my head off. I still need my lips to kiss Raul.”

“That suggestion is stupid. Don't say more.” The very thought of June's suggestion being the case scourged her greatly.

She grabbed the ice cream from June, receiving a sound of protest, then scooped and ate three spoonfuls in quick succession. Delectable goodness exploded on her tongue, but the ice cream did very little to calm her nerves like she'd expected.

“Really, girl, just chill and think about the hard time you're going to give him when he finally shows up just like I'm doing now. Can't believe Raul ditched at the last minute.”

The thought of Raul pulled Eva's mind from her own problems. She took another spoonful of the icecream and handed it back to June. “Is he okay? He must be going through such a rough time now.”

June's eyes shot from the TV as she stared at Eva funny. “Why would my boyfriend not be okay? Why would he be going through a rough time?”

Eva realized Raul hadn't told June anything. Before she could say something, the doorbell rang. June went to get it, and Eva took advantage and ate her ice cream. She strolled into the living room with Raul.

“Seems he didn't ditch plans after all.” She was barely hiding her excitement.

Eva shot to her feet, giving Raul a brief hug. “Raul, have you heard anything from Adam?”

“No, why?”

“We were supposed to meet at his penthouse but he wasn't there when I got there. I've been trying his number for two hours and he's not picking up.”

“Strange.” Raul muttered, etching on his forehead.

“Stallion, Eva said something about you going through a rough time.” June said, the petname she used for Raul making Eva cringe even though this wasn't the first time she was hearing it. “What's going on?”

Raul looked at Eva knowingly. “Adam told you, didn't he?” He asked. Eva nodded, and he let out a groan. “Now I don't even get the chance to do the telling.” He looked at June. “Let's go to your room. I'll tell you.”

After they left, Eva sank back into the couch, picking up her phone and dialing Adam's number once again. When it went unanswered, she all but hauled it at the TV. Opting for rationality, she tossed it beside her on the couch instead.

God, she had such a bad feeling about this.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Adam stumbled out of the elevator, bracing his hand against a nearby wall to keep his balance steady. His head felt as if it was repeatedly being bludgeoned with a metal from the inside, courtesy of a hangover.

Yesterday, even after his breakdown had passed, the emotions had still remained the same; raw and gnawing and indefatigably so.

He'd driven immediately to a bar to see whether some bottles of beer would help rid him of those emotions, if only for a while.

He'd drank four bottles of beer, would've drank a fifth if that stupid barman hadn't refused to sell him more. The idiot. All he'd been able to say after Adam had poured out his story just for telling sake was that he would probably feel better if he forgave his mother.

Yeah, fucking bullshit.

He didn't know he hadn't slept home until he had woken up in a shabby and stinking alleyway. How he had ended up there was still a mystery of his mind.

The only things that'd remained on him was his singlet and jeans, and then his keys, both car and house.

His father came to mind, and he winced. How could he have been so selfish, thinking about only his pain? It wasn't long since his father seemed to finally get over Rebecca. Seeing her again must've opened up old wounds.

Adam managed to make it to his door, inserting the key into the lock. His head throbbed all of a sudden, forcing him to stay put and let the painful bout pass before he could turn the lock and enter the penthouse. It was like walking from one disaster into another.

His father was on the floor, body sprawled at an awkward angle, his arms and torso and one leg lying on the floor, his other leg resting on a couch. Dread clenched through his stomach. What the hell?

It was like his hangover had never been, adrenaline taking him to his father's side in a heartbeat. Picking up his head and resting it in his hands, Adam took in his pale face and ruffled appearance.

“Dad?” He called out firmly. The man reeked of alcohol. Adam scanned the room and instantly knew where the smell was gained. A bottle of beer and an almost full bottle of whiskey Adam had, all from his liquor cabinet. Goddamnit.

But in that moment, his father having relapsed was the least thing that worried him.

“Dad, can you hear me? Dad?”

Adam told himself he'd passed out, that soon he would regain consciousness, but his hand had been on his father's neck long enough for him to have felt his pulse. Why the heck was there no pulse? And why the fuck did his father look so pale.

Fear wrapped tightly around his heart and squeezed hard, making him feel like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. No, it couldn't be what he was thinking.