his mouth shut. I’m going to have to figure out what I’m going to do about the video Edgar’s mom got.
“I heard rumors that the women are being funded,” Hugo says finally.
“Funded? Somebody’s paying them to sue?” Tío Manny says.
“No, I mean somebody’s paying their legal fees. They’ve got some real sharks representing them, and Aaron’s having trouble finding a good lawyer to take his case.”
Somebody must really hate Aaron, not that I’m particularly shocked. But I wonder why he’s having trouble getting a decent lawyer. He has the money. And his family has the connections to hook him up. His mother will certainly try.
“I hope he represents himself,” Hugo adds with an evil gleam in his eyes. “It’s going to be hilarious.”
The door opens again. Ooh, maybe the servers are going to bring out some food. I’m hungry, and we can talk about something other than my shitty ex.
Edgar walks in.
Frozen in shock, I stare. His eyes are slightly red, as if he hasn’t been getting much sleep. Maybe he’s just been busy with work. He’s in a Brioni suit, just like the first time he came to the restaurant.
Mama’s eyes light up. “You made it!”
“Excellent,” Tía Bea says with a wide grin.
I watch my family stand up and greet him with hugs and handshakes, feeling surreal. Nobody seems to notice anything wrong in my reaction. Probably because they figure Edgar and I are saving our greeting for last because we plan to kiss.
Why is Edgar here? Because of the baby?
Baby or not, he knows we’re over. He’s accepted that. Otherwise he would’ve tried to contact me. Coming here isn’t going to do anything except make a bigger mess. Does he really want to hash it out here?
“You look good,” Edgar says, coming around to me, his voice solemn.
“Of course,” I say. I don’t want him to know how much time I spent thinking about him. Or that the reason I look so good is makeup. Yuna gave me some great pointers for hiding signs of fatigue.
“We saved a seat for you, Edgar,” Mama says, gesturing at the empty chair next to me.
But he remains standing, facing the room. “Actually, there’s something I need to say to you all first.”
Shit. He’s going to announce we aren’t together anymore.
I give him a sharp look full of disappointment at his poor judgment. This is not the time or place.
“When I first came here and met you, you asked me what I brought to the table. My answer was: money and connections.”
This isn’t the opening I thought he’d go for. What’s he trying to say?
My family is watching him closely, like they can sense he’s about to reveal something very important.
“What I didn’t tell you is that I also bring a lot of ugly, messy baggage,” Edgar says. “To put it plainly, my family is broken. There are so many articles written about us. But what they don’t always mention is that one of my brothers, Tony, accidentally shot our baby sister in a hunting accident. She…didn’t survive.”
A collective gasp goes up in the room. Air clogs my throat. The magnitude of the tragedy is staggering. Hearing it from Edgar’s lips is so much worse than reading about it on my phone screen.
“He was only twelve at the time. Our mother blamed him, and he was exiled from the family soon after. He became a forbidden subject—we weren’t allowed to think of him, speak of him or have pictures of him around. Defending him would earn you a swift punishment. To her, the only thing that matters is that she lost her daughter. And our father let her do whatever she wanted because he loves her.”
Jesus. She abused her sons. Just because she didn’t smack them around doesn’t mean she didn’t leave scars with her neglect and emotional brutality. This explains a lot about Edgar’s excessive seriousness. And his desire to be a good father to his kid. He doesn’t want to be like his parents.
Shock, grief and sympathy tangle in my heart, and I hurt for the younger Edgar and his brothers.
Edgar continues, “When Tony came back to Louisiana after graduating from college, he met and fell in love with the woman who is now his wife, Ivy. But our mother didn’t want him to be happy.
“When someone purposely drove Ivy off a bridge, our mother looked the other way. She refused to report it to the police…even though she knew who did it. She also knew Ivy didn’t die, but