Chapter 22 - Gael Santi Rivera (2)
The faint sound of chatter downstairs woke up Gael from his sleep. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his bedroom without remembering how he got there. It was dark but the temperature was just right. He stretched his body and realized that he had changed out of his coat and dress shirt and was now wearing an old t-shirt but he was still in his dress pants.
Furrowing his brows, he rolled himself out of the bed and went to wash up in the bathroom. It was only then that he recalled seeing that man earlier and he didn't know what happened after that. Just as he got out of the bathroom, his grandmother slowly entered his room with a tray of warm food. "Granma…"
"Oh, you're awake. I was just about to wake you up, sweetie… You need to eat. You haven't eaten the whole day." Grandma Susan set the tray on top of the desk in his study corner. "Come and eat while it's still hot."
Gael draped the face towel around his neck and walked up to his grandmother. There was a bowl of whatever it was with a couple of slices of bread on the side. "What's this? Who cooked?" he wondered. He had been with his grandmother all his life and he knew that she was never a good cook; there were only a few dishes that she was able to make. And this wasn't one of them.
"I think he said it's a ravioli soup."
"He?"
"Santi… Your father—"
"I don't have a father." Gael turned and sat on the edge of his bed, adamant to hear anything more but his grandmother insisted on talking anyway.
"Your father is downstairs. He stayed for the whole day and served the visitors. His brothers came by for a short time too. They just left before I came up here. He made you some dinner because I told him you were skipping meals. Now stop being stubborn and eat your food. Don't disrespect the man who cooked for you. You can hate him all you want but don't do it with an empty stomach. Protesting while hungry is not admirable—it's stupid. And we didn't raise a stupid kid."
Grandma Susan's voice was gentle but Gael felt like he had just been stabbed in the gut by her scolding. He couldn't rebut her no matter how angry he was feeling. So all he could say was: "I'm not hungry—"
Just as his words left his mouth, his angry stomach growled, betraying him. Then he heard his grandmother scoff at him. "Quit lying. Your stomach is so loud it could wake your mother up from her peaceful sleep," she said just before leaving his bedroom.
"Too soon," Gael muttered, shaking his head. How could his grandmother be joking already?
The aroma of the ravioli soup lingered in the air and invaded his nostrils; his stomach complained once again. He got up and stared at the bowl of stuffed pasta, ground meat, and colored water with green leaf stuff floating on it. He gulped at the sight and debated with himself on what he should do.
…
Twenty minutes later…
Gael came downstairs and found the living room almost empty. There were only a few other people whom he recognized as close friends of his mother from the hospital and Mrs. Baker—an old grumpy neighbor whose brows were always crossed like she was forever mad at the world. He never understood why his mother would always go to her house and bring her food even when Mrs. Baker constantly grumbled and scolded her for no reason.
He went straight to the kitchen with the tray in his hand and an empty bowl. He settled for the fact that his grandmother was right: It was stupid to stay hungry. And damn it, that food was delicious. He hated that he liked it.
When he arrived in the kitchen, his footsteps slowed down when he found his grandmother talking to the same man from earlier. Meeting the man's stare, he looked away and headed straight to the sink. He was only going to leave the dishes there and go back to his bedroom but then his grandmother called him. Reluctantly, he turned around and exhaled a sigh.
"You ate your food. Now, what will you say?" Grandma Susan questioned with an unreadable expression.
Gael mentally cursed and begrudgingly forced out a 'Thanks' in almost a whisper. This was a very uncomfortable situation and he wanted to get out of there fast.
Grandma Susan glared at Gael for his behavior but she let it go and softened her tone. "Gael Santi, meet your father. This is Alessandro De Luca."
For heaven's sake. What a casual introduction. Could she be anymore nonchalant? She introduced the man as if she was introducing a new friend. Growing up, he used to ask his mother about his father but he didn't know a lot except the picture that she showed him. Apart from that, he didn't know anything else. Not even his name.
Because of his mother's reluctance and avoidance about the subject, he stopped asking. He didn't know how it began but eventually, he just started to hate the man who was never there.
Gael stared long and hard at the tall man in front of him. He took in Alessandro's features—the way he dressed and his posture. After a quick scan at the several security detail around the house that he only noticed just now and the mention of the man's name, he then realized why his mother never told him about his father.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips and he lowered his head. "I see…"
Without saying anything else, Gael turned around and headed towards the front door. He grabbed a coat, quickly slipped a pair of sneakers and left the house. He walked aimlessly around the neighborhood, not knowing where to go. All he knew was that he had to get out of there.
What a fûcked up twist in his life. His mother died. And the sperm donor showed up. And what do you know? He just learned that he had De Luca blood running through his veins.
After walking for fifteen minutes, he arrived at an empty, soulless park. There was a children's playground that had a rusty swing. He would probably get infected with tetanus if he sat on it but he did it anyway.
It was cold and quiet and the moon was his only light. Amidst the silence, he could feel his raging heartbeat in his throat. "What now, ma?" he asked.