“At us.”
“Why?”
“They said we made them look arrogant.”
“Your parents did not exclude me.”
Carla went still.
“You did.”
Her expression changed.
“We told them you had other plans.”
“So you lied to them too.”
“We didn’t want them uncomfortable.”
“You mean you didn’t want them to know.”
Hugo leaned forward.
“Mom, we made a terrible mistake.”
“No.”
He blinked.
“This wasn’t one mistake.”
I counted softly.
“The clothes. The gifts. The food. Olivia. Mauricio. The comments. The years you watched. Christmas Eve.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
“You know today.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“Because you saw a villa.”
He flinched.
“Maybe I needed something shocking to open my eyes.”
I looked at my son.
“That’s the problem, Hugo. My pain wasn’t enough. You needed to see money.”
His shoulders dropped.
Carla began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“That means nothing.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“How?”
She stared at me.
“Are you sorry you criticized my clothes?”
“Yes.”
“The food I brought?”
“Yes.”
“The gifts?”
“Yes.”
“Keeping Olivia away?”
“Yes.”
“Making Mauricio feel dirty in your home?”
“Yes.”
“Making my son call and tell me I wasn’t welcome Christmas Eve?”
“Yes.”
I held her gaze.
“Or are you sorry because the woman you looked down on turned out to own a house you admire?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
“I don’t know.”
I nodded.
“At least that is honest.”
Hugo stood.
“Tell us what to do.”
