Desperation of Love

by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

The doorman to her building announces me and I make my way up to her floor. I don’t have to knock on the door. It opens as soon as I get to it. She stands there with a look of relief on her face.

  “I was terrified that I might never see you again.”

  “Why would you even care?” I hiss, walking past her and into her apartment.

  She closes the door and follows me. “Because you’re my son.”

  I turn around to face her. “You’re not my mother.”

  “I am your mother,” she says with determination. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think she believed it.

  “Be honest. You never thought of me as your real son. You never treated me the same way you treated Victor.”

  She takes a few steps, cutting the distance between us in half. “I let a lot of things get in the way of being a good mother to you. That much is true, but I did love you. I still do. I had my eyes set on the prize, and Victor was the key to that. I lived my dream through him and you were sometimes a deterrent to that. You would distract him, get him into trouble, things that any normal child would do, but I couldn’t see it. I let ambition cloud my judgment and there’s no excuse for that. But I would have treated you the same way if you were my biological son. I can say that much without a doubt.”

  “Was it really that important to you?” It’s a silly question, really. She got to live her dream when most people don’t even achieve half of what she was able to do. Sure, she used Victor to do it, but he loved it too for a long time.

  “At the time, yes. Now, I wake up most days and hate myself for what I put my family through. Nothing is worth losing a son over.”

  “Why then? Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? Tell me that my real mother died.”

  “Because I didn’t want you to love a ghost more than you loved me. If I was going to take you in and adopt you, I was going to be your mother, and that’s it.” She goes over to the dining room table, picks up a manila folder and hands it to me. “That will fill in some of the blanks on your real mom for you.”

  I sit down and open the folder. The first thing I see is a picture of my real mom. It’s strange to look at this woman who I’ve never known, will never know, but I see myself reflected in her. “I have her eyes,” I say out loud.

  She sits down next to me and looks at the picture as if she’s seeing it for the first time. “You do. You have her nose too.”

  “Patricia Ferrer?” I ask, looking at the name written under the picture.

  “Yes.” She gives me a half smile. “That was her name.”

  I browse through the papers, obituary, pictures of her and my dad, the names of her parents. “Are my grandparents still alive?”

  “As far as I know. They used to send you birthday cards and presents, but we would never allow them to see you.”

  I don’t have to ask why they kept my grandparents from me. It’s pretty self-explanatory. “What about aunts and uncles? Do I have any?”

  “No. She was an only child. You should know that she didn’t know your father and I were married. She wasn’t a home wrecker or anything. Her parents wanted you, but legally, they had no rights to you once your father claimed you. They did try to get custody of you but the judge ruled in our favor.”

  “Thank you for this.”

  She nods. “It’s the least I can do.”

  I hesitate for a second, but I opt to tell her how I feel because now I have a better understanding of where she was coming from. “I do love you, you know?”

  She puts her head in her hands and lets the tears that she’s been struggling to keep away fall freely. I believe her story, believe that she loved me, but got swept away in her own dreams. I believe that she never meant to hurt me, and because of that, I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight.

  “It’s okay, Mom. It’ll take time, but we’ll be okay.”

  We stay huddled together like that for a long time. When we finally pull apart, I give her a kiss on the cheek. I have to let it all go. I need to let go of the weight that I’ve been carrying for so long and forget the past mistakes of my family and how they’ve affected me. It’s time to focus on my future now, and I just pray that everything will work out. I say goodbye to my mom, but before I leave, she stops me. “Don’t throw away the love of your life because of your pride.”

  “I’m trying to work that out,” I respond, not giving away any more information than I have to.

  “It’s not her fault that all of this happened. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her about you, but I thought she needed to know. She wasn’t happy about keeping it from you, but I made her promise. I told her that I would tell you the truth in my own time.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you. She’d go up against all of us for you. When you have someone like that, someone who struggles with her own fears and demons, but is still willing to put her issues aside to fight for you, you hold onto that.”

  I give her a smile and a nod. “I’ll call you next week. You can come by the house for dinner.”

  “I’d love that,” she replies. I walk out the door, finally free of the past that binds me, finally free to grab onto what I want most for my future.

  After Alex left me on the beach in tears, I pulled myself together enough to drive back home. I called Victor and told him that I saw Alex and that he was alive and well. I didn’t go into any further detail for fear of ending up in tears on the phone. I made myself a breakfast that consisted of two slices of raisin toast, of which I only ate one, and a glass of orange juice. Then, I took myself upstairs to my bedroom and crawled under the covers where I’ve been ever since. This is how my mom must have felt when my dad left her, broken and alone. I’ve dealt with my own abandonment issues in the past but this, this is just beyond painful. This is what I’ve been avoiding for all these years. I thought I would regret my relationship with Alex if it ended but I don’t. I just miss him. I wish that it would have worked out for the better, but one day with him meant more to me than months with any other man. My eyes are swollen and they hurt, but I wipe away the tears that keep coming. I couldn’t stop them now if I tried. As I allow sleep to claim me, I wonder if there will ever be a time when I don’t hurt for the loss of Alex.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but I’m still groggy and it hurts to try and open my eyes. It takes me a minute to register the fact that I’m not alone. Someone is stroking my hair. It’s him. I’d know his touch anywhere. I can’t open my eyes, can’t stand to look at him for fear that it’s all in my mind. I’m afraid I’m so far gone that I’m starting to hallucinate.

  “Princess, are you awake?” I hear him ask softly. The sound of his voice tells me that I’m not imagining things. The knowledge that he’s actually here causes a new surge of tears to spring up. I hate myself for having this kind of reaction, for being so weak after battling for so long to be strong. I bury my face in the pillow to hide my discomposure.

  “No. Don’t cry,” he says, cupping my chin in his hand and repositioning my face so I have no choice but to look at him. He wipes away my tears with the pad of his thumb. “Look at you. I’ve put you through hell, haven’t I? I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought you hated me.”

  “I was angry so I took it out on you, but I’ve never hated you. I never meant to make you believe that. I was wrong to have done that to you.” He begins stroking my hair again, and for the first time in weeks, I see something that I recognize. He’s looking at me the way he did before his world fell apart, with love in his eyes. “I made a lot of mistakes where you’re concerned. I pushed you away and made an impossible situation worse. Can you forgive me?”

  A year ago I would have said no. I would have told him to go screw himself and kicked him out of my house, but this isn’t a year ago. Right now, all I can think of is that the door has been burst wide open for reconciliation. All I have to do is seize the opportunity and walk right through it, see what
it really feels like on the other side of fear. I nod my head and wipe another tear away. “I love you so much. I missed you,” I whisper.

  He smiles wide at me. I can see the relief wash over his face. It’s clear that he was prepared to come here and not have this conversation go his way. “I missed you too. And I love you, Jordan, I really do. But before you decide for sure, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Back at the hospital, when I went back into your dad’s room before the surgery, he told me he knew that he was going to die.”

  My eyes go wide and I sit up in bed. “What do you mean he knew he was going to die?”

  Alex sits up as well, his back pressed against the headboard with me facing him. “He told me that he couldn’t explain it, but he just had the feeling that he wasn’t going to come out of surgery. He told me that he’d made a lot of mistakes with you, and that he wouldn’t be able to die in peace if I didn’t promise him that I would take care of you.”

  I’m crying again now. I have to wonder if there will ever come a time when I won’t be crying. “What did you say?”

  “I told him that I would take care of you and I would tell you that he loved you.”

  I nod my head. “Thank you for telling me that.”

  “You’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner? I wanted to. I just didn’t want to make his death any harder on you than it already was.”

  “I get that. You were trying to protect me. It’s the same reason I didn’t tell you about your mom. I’m not mad at you, just sad for him because he had to go into that knowing that he would never see his family again. I’m glad you were able to give him peace.”

  “That’s just it though. I failed him. I haven’t looked after you. I did the exact opposite.”

  “It’s okay. You’re here now, right?”

  He smiles. “I am.”

  “And you forgive me, too?”

  “Nothing to forgive, babe. I was an asshole,” he says. He knows that I’m seeking reassurance and he does his best to give it to me.

  “But you came back for me,” I whisper.

  “I had to come back for you,” he says, tugging at my hair. “You’re my brat.”

  I move quickly and straddle him. “Just don’t leave me again,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in the crook of his neck.

  “Never.”

  I look down at him, knowing that there’s more to be said before we can fully be happy together. I have to fill in the missing pieces to the puzzle, give him all the reasons why I’ve lived the way I have for so long. “I have something else to tell you.”

  “You do?” he says, pushing my hair out of my face.

  “I do. Before we can move forward, you need to know all of me. It’s the main reason why I’ve been such a mess at this whole love thing.”

  “Okay.”

  “When I was nineteen, Elle and I decided that we wanted to spend the summer abroad. There was this language arts program and every summer they organized a month long trip to Italy. Of course, my parents were all for it. They always gave me everything I wanted. I had been hounding my mother and father for a copy of my birth certificate for days so I could apply for my passport, but they were busy with work and kept forgetting. So, one morning while they were gone, I went through my mom’s personal files.”

  He shakes his head. “What did you find?”

  “I found a closed envelope with my name on it. I figured that my birth certificate was probably in there, so of course, I opened it up. What I found was adoption papers.”

  “Babe.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m lucky that I had parents who loved me, right?”

  He nods his head. “What happened next?”

  “Well, I lost my fucking mind. Called them both at work and went crazy on them. They had no choice but to come home and try to calm me down, but I was so far gone. I was just shocked, hurt, and angry. I didn’t know what to do with myself. They told me that they tried for many years to have a child of their own, but it just wasn’t possible. They decided adoption would be the best route to get them the baby they so desperately wanted.”

  “And that’s how they got you.”

  “That’s how they got me. I never really got over it. I fought with them for two years after that, demanding that they give me the names of my birth parents. I felt like I had a right to know where I came from and why they gave me up.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Even though they’d met my birth parents, it was a closed adoption so they wanted to respect their wishes. This just angered me even more. I rebelled and spent all my time at school, spent my summers at Elle’s house, and only ever came home to sleep. Finally, they gave in and told me the information.”

  “Did you find them?”

  This is the hard part of the story, the part that breaks me every single time I think about it. As if on cue, the tears start to fall again. “They live in Illinois. It didn’t take me long to find their information. So, I used all the money I had saved up from holidays and birthdays and bought myself a plane ticket. I snuck out one night and left my parents a note. Then, I hopped on a plane to Illinois.”

  “It didn’t go very well, did it?” he says wiping my tears away yet again.

  “Sometime after they gave me up, they got married. A couple years later, they had another baby, a daughter. I found her birth announcement in the archives of an online newspaper. They have this huge house on the outskirts of Chicago. When I got there, they practically slammed the door in my face and said they didn’t want me to come back. They said they did what they had to do, and didn’t want me upsetting their daughter with my presence. She doesn’t know about me.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  “They didn’t even care. They acted like I was an intruder in their perfect little life. Like I wasn’t good enough to be a part of their family. They said that they were too young at the time to take care of a baby and made the best choice they could for me. I get that, I really do, but I honestly thought they’d be happy to see me.”

  “They don’t deserve you and you don’t need them. You shouldn’t let them make you feel like you’re not good enough, Jordan. You’re perfect, alright? You’re better off without them.”

  “My mom told your mom. It’s why she came to me and told me your story. She wanted me to know that you and I are more alike than I thought we were. Other than them, no one else knows.”

  “You never told Ellie?”

  I shake my head. “I was too embarrassed, too devastated to tell anyone. I just wanted to forget that it ever happened. I wanted to try and move on, but really, I’ve just been stuck in the past. Until you came along, at least. I don’t know how you did it, but you made me fall in love with you. You made me believe in what we have.”

  “I’ll never tell anyone what you just told me, but you should never be embarrassed to tell your story. It’s what makes you who you are. And, babe, what we have is worth believing in. I’ll never let you go again. I swear it. I’ll spend my whole life proving to you that what we have is as real as it gets. That I love you more than anything.” This is his vow. There’s no wedding today, no white dress, no church or priest, no exchanging of rings, but it doesn’t matter. To me, this is perfection. This is the day that I finally give my heart away freely, effortlessly, trusting that Alex’s love will keep me in his grasp forever.

  One year later …

  It’s been months, but the construction on our house is finally done and the last of our shit has finally been moved in. There are boxes scattered everywhere, but for Christ sake, at least we’re in. I put Ellie’s old house on the market and moved in with Jordan almost immediately after she and I worked things out. We were spending all our time together anyway, so it only made sense for us to consolidate space and move in together. A couple months later, we stumbled on a piece of property that was for sale not far from our beach. We weren’t intending to
buy a house together, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, so we jumped on it and started the renovations on our new house right away.

  Business quickly picked up for Victor and I at the recording studio, and we’ve been able to make a name for ourselves as music producers in the industry. It gives us the opportunity to do what we love without having to deal with the hassle of nonstop travel around the world. It makes me happy to see Victor get the life he always wanted and still be able to see his daughter grow. Which reminds me, Ava just turned one year old and, as Jordan predicted, she has every man in her life wrapped around her little finger, me included.

  My relationship with my dad is still strained, but it always has been. It’s sad, but I’ve come to terms with it. My mother is a different story. She has pretty much infiltrated herself in her sons’ lives, making a nuisance of herself and showing up everywhere we are … constantly. She has provided hours of enjoyment and laughter for Victor and I, and we get off on giving her a hard time for being around so often, but the truth is, we actually like having her close these days. So much so that she’s now moving into Jordan’s old house as we speak. She’s a mess and has made her fair share of mistakes, but everyone deserves their chance at redemption. For better or worse, she’s our mom, and in the end, she seems to have come through for both of her boys.

  About six months ago, Jordan dragged me into New York with some lame excuse about watching a play that I really didn’t want to see but, of course, I went anyway. I knew something was off when we ended up in the middle of Brooklyn. When I asked her what we were doing, she told me that she had been in touch with my birth mother’s parents, my only living grandparents, and set up a meeting for us. I was touched that she would do something like that for me. She knew that I might never be brave enough to do it on my own, so she did it for me, and I’m really grateful that she did. They were ecstatic to see me, which was both wonderful and overwhelming, and they were able to fill me in on everything having to do with my biological mother. We’ve taken it slowly, but I’ve managed to form a really good relationship with them.