Page 11 of A Coffee Away

I nodded, then figured he needed an answer. “Okay.”

My heart was about to pop out of my chest. I was about to leave my parents and the place that had been my home for twenty-one years. Why? Why couldn’t they love me for who I was?

“Robbie?”

I thought he’d hung up.

“Robbie, are you there?”

“I’m here.” I closed the suitcase, then crammed my books and laptop into my backpack.

“Everything will be fine. Wait for me. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Roberto. I need your words.”

Something stirred inside me. His worry. His tone. His words.

“Yes, Esteban. I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

The line went dead, and my world fell silent, so much so that it was deafening. My throat burned as I closed the backpack, then ran downstairs.

Mom was there. “Robbie, please. Let’s talk this through. You’re just…confused.”

“I expected this from Dad. But you?” I shook my head.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, her face was pure agony. Glazed eyes. Smothered sobs.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Sorry for not being the son you wanted me to be.” I choked back my tears. “Adiós, Mami. I love you.”

With one last look at what was no longer my home, I turned to the door and left.

Chapter 3: Breaking Free!

Robbie

The end of the street. The pristine beach was right in front of me but so far away. It reflected no sign of how my life had just changed. Or how it would never be the same.

After years of living the life they wanted for me, at last, I was free. A huge weight had been lifted off my chest, but what I thought would be a happy day was fast becoming the darkest one yet.

What a bittersweet way to start this new life. No matter what, they were my parents, and the pain that clawed at my heart at their rejection was as real as the sea salt in the air. As the sound of the waves hitting the shore. As the sweet caresses shared by the two women who lay side by side, enjoying the morning sun.

I sat at the spot where I met Esteban last night. How could life change so much in such a short time? What would I do now? I had no job. No art materials. No money.

My parents paid for art school, and when I finished last month, they bought all the art materials I needed. After years of study, they both believed in my art, and they let me stay so I could create and one day exhibit my work in galleries.

Now their pride was gone because I decided to be honest, thinking that maybe their love for me would be enough. But it wasn’t.

Shivers ran down my spine at his touch. The same one that pulled me awake yesterday.

I turned. He stood right behind me. His pained stare made my cheeks burn.

I couldn’t look at him. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He sat beside me.