CHAPTER 12

Angelo's POV

I grabbed my phone, wallet and keys and locked the house door behind me. Practise papers could wait later.

I'd been doing a lot of driving lately something about the sound of my car engine clearing my mind.

All my impulses were jumping at the thought of flying over to her. But as if there wasn't enough space between us, we let the silence do the talking.

My words to her were pretty messed up, I know. But I was grieving and she didn't know it and that wasn't her fault.

Sylvester had been like second father to me. Heart attack. He'd died of an heart attack. Whilst we were playing pool.

We talked about everything. We talked about Jesus. He'd said he believed in Him. We played videogames together, and he would give me life advice.

He didn't always do good things – but who did? He was a good man. Over the last two years of volunteering at the centre, the change in him was undeniable. He was basically the Godfather. Everyone came to him with their problems.

But I was probably the only person he talked to when something was bothering him. Sylvester often spoke about the daughter he'd left when she was three years old. He was young and stupid. He spent his whole life admitting that. Had even missed her birth.

Whenever he spoke about his daughter his voice was always in the tone reserved to speak of things one regrets. He'd said the last time he'd seen his daughter was five years ago.

At 23, she was a mother and a wife to a man with a stable job. She'd shown him a picture of his granddaughter. And he was happy that she lived a humble life.

Their meeting had gone well until he asked after her mother. His daughter had said that he had no right to ask about her mother especially after leaving her to take care of what should have also been his responsibility. Their meeting had spiralled out of control to the point where she said she never wanted to see him ever again.

Sylvester had carried this pain with him and it'd sparked another dark period in his life that led him to being homeless. It was by my encouragement that I asked Sylvester to reach out to his daughter again. And though reluctant at first they'd been making steady progress.

Over the last year, they'd been sending letters to each other. And I'd even taught him how to set up an email address, send emails and check his inbox.

But he always preferred the letters because he could hold them in his hand and have them as company. It was always proof that there was someone out there who hadn't given up on him.

He always said his daughter was the only thing he'd gotten right in his life.

They'd been planning to meet up within the weeks leading up to Christmas and Sylvester had been excited.

We'd gone Christmas shopping for gifts for his daughter who was expecting again and his grandchild.

But this was life.

She came to the funeral a week ago. With her daughter and husband.

I'm sure she now had regrets of her own with how things could have been different with her father.

I'd never experienced such loss. But seeing life leave infront of me - it changed shit.

For about a week I could barely talk to anyone. My mother asked me if I wanted to go to therapy, I said no. I'm sure I would get over it. I had no choice.

The lights turned green and my phone started ringing. I put the call on loudspeaker subconsciosly knowing Luciana would approve, before setting motion again.

"Yo Angelo."

"Remar. What's up?

"Can't complain man. Life's good. Where you at?"

I had no idea where I was going but at Remar's question I decided to take a spontaneous left turn. "Just going out to eat."

"With your girl?"

"Nah on my own. I told you she's in Europe," I said trying to edge away the irritation in my voice, "what are you up to?"

"I'm just chilling, going to hit the gym soon. I don't remember but did I tell you I'm coming to the US for Christmas?"

"Nah you didn't."

"Ah I must have forgot. I'm going to be there from the 20th for about about two weeks. The whole family is going to my grandparents house. My cousins from Trinidad are coming too. We should meet up."

"Yeah definitely."

Socialising was the least of my priorities. Christmas was less than three weeks away and usually I'd be excited but this year I wasn't feeling anything just stressed.

"I'll let you know when I arrive."

"That's cool."

And just when I was about to say bye to him I hear him come through the speakers again.

"Bro the craziest shit happened to me two weeks ago."

"What happened?"

"I met a girl. Dark, curvy, fat ass haha. We actually talked. I was feeling this girl, man, but she's engaged."

"Remar man, you're going to get yourself in trouble one day."

"Yeah I know but she was feeling me too."

I feared that since Remar had lost weight it'd made him over-compensate for the times in school when he used to be friendzoned by girls mostly due to his weight.

He was a funny guy, but girls never wanted to be more than friendly with him. Now his weight loss had gone over his head and he lost respect for women, he didn't care to cross boundaries.

But hombre needed to chill before he caught something. Knowing him though, he would rather catch STDs than feelings.

"Okay Romeo where did you two leave things?"

I could hear him laugh on the other end of the phone. "We kissed but then her friend comes up screaming at us saying the girl, Luciana, is already taken and basically drags her away fr-"

"Wait, what did you say?"

"I said her friend dragged her away from me."

"What did you say her name was?"

"Luciana," and as if Remar caught up to something he asked, "You think you know her?"

"Nah. I don't."

Or rather, I hoped, prayed, desperately hoped that it was not the same Luciana Carter he was talking about.