are worn, the color is faded, but I can still recognize my mom. She has a beaming smile on her face that I had never seen before while growing up. I rub a finger over her face and inhale. She’s sitting on a motorcycle, arms wrapped around a much younger Mercy, who has dark hair in this picture. He is wearing a leather jacket, and her cheek is pressed against his back, like she’s holding onto him tight. She has on jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy.
“I never saw her smile like this. I actually never saw her smile,” I say with realization. “What happened? Why weren’t you two together anymore?”
“I left for the Navy. I was in special ops, so the mission I was on was so secret she didn’t know about it. It was only supposed to be a few weeks. But I got captured. I was a Prisoner of War for a few years. I never got to send her a letter explaining it. I bet she thought I died.”
“But when you came back, why didn’t you search for her?”
“She was with another man. She had a family. I didn’t want to ruin that.”
“You should have!” I throw the picture at him. “Maybe she’d still be alive if you would have done something.”
“I didn’t know,” he chokes. His hand grips the middle of his shirt, right where his heart is. “God, I didn’t know. It’s all I have thought about. She was everything. She was… she was fucking everything, Daphne. I swear she’s the reason I lived when I was captured. I’d see her face every time they tortured me, and all I wanted to do was to get back home to her. I didn’t know…” he swallows, staring down at the black of his boots.
“You didn’t know what?” I hiss, angry at him, happy that my mom knew some form of happiness, and sad she didn’t get more of it like she deserved.
“I didn’t know when I left for the Navy that she was pregnant.” His eyes meet mine, then land on Tongue. “When I saw her with a little girl, my heart broke because we talked about having kids, and the man she was with didn’t love her. Not the way I did, not in the amount I did. He couldn’t.” He slaps his chest again. “I didn’t want to come between a family, but damn it, I regret it now. I regret it so fucking much.”
“Why?” I yell at him through tears, the high gone, but my heart pumping adrenaline.
“The other night, when I got home, I did some research. You looked too familiar to me. I brought up your mom’s name and your birth certificate, then checked the date you were born.” He blows out a breath and rubs his uninjured palm on his knees. “Eight months after the day I left.”
Holy Moly.
I suck in a deep breath. My mouth falls open in shock. I try to say something, anything, but the words don’t come out. Mercy continues.
“And there, on the original birth certificate, the father’s name was blank. She didn’t put down your father. She didn’t put down anyone, but you don’t know how badly I wanted to fill in that blank with Andrey Machado.” He reaches for my hand and rubs his thumb across it. “I also go by Mercy.”
My mind tunnels, racing at a thousand miles an hour. The only thing I can focus on is the lie surrounding my life. “So my dad… my dad isn’t even mine?”
“He raised you, so he is your father, but god, if I could turn back time, Daphne, I would have given anything to watch you grow up. I’m so envious.”
I pull my hand away, unable to stop the flow of tears when I think about what could have been different. “You saw us, and you turned your back.”
“Because I didn’t want to ruin whatever life your mother built for you. I didn’t know you were mine. I swear, Daphne. I had no idea or I would have.”
“Please, leave,” I point toward the door. My mind is swirling, and I hate it when it does this because usually it means I’m about to break. I don’t want to break. Not here. Not now.
“Daphne, I want to get to know you. I want to make up for lost time. I want to be the father I never got to be for you. I’ll do anything for a chance,” he begs.
“I need time to think.