~4~
Arms wrapped tightly around her middle for warmth, Pilar joined her son in the backyard, where he sat at the barren picnic table, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. "Come inside, Luis. Dinner's ready."
His voice was muffled when he answered her. "I don't know if I can, Mama."
The pain in her son's voice tore at Pilar's heart, but he was being stubborn, and she told him as such. "You can't avoid each other forever, mi hijo. I don't know how you've done it this long. Sheridan is Marty's mother, and…"
"And she left him," Luis cut in sharply. "I searched the ends of the earth for our boy so that I could bring him home to her, and how did she respond?" he asked, voice rising in anger. "She left him. And she left me."
"I can't pretend to understand Sheridan's reasons for leaving, Luis," Pilar said, "but anybody can see that she loves that child dearly."
"Not enough," Luis wouldn't be convinced. "Not enough to stay."
"Maybe," Pilar faltered, "maybe she loved him so much she couldn't stay." She raised a hand to her son's face, frowning at the tears Luis refused to cry, the hurt he refused to let go of. "Come inside when you're ready."
Luis watched her go, wondering when that would be.
Thanks for reading!