Miguel had taken three showers since getting home. He felt as if he’d scrubbed off at least three layers of skin. His nerves felt raw, and he struggled to make sense of everything that had happened to him over the last few hours.

Sitting on the sofa in his parents’ living room he took a deep, shuddering breath.

It was just a simple mistake. They couldn’t have known the truth. There was nothing wrong with him. Dominic was attractive in his own way so it’s not like he knowingly slept with his own brother. Julia’s reaction when she found out though was one of disgust. It was clear that she didn’t think highly of their actions.

What would Pablo and María think? Surely they knew the truth. What would they do if they learned that their son had slept with his brother?

Except, he wasn’t really Pablo’s son, was he? He was Frederico’s son. The man that always called his mother a whore. But Pablo had been there for him his whole life, and Frederico had always disliked him.

Miguel shook his head, trying to push all of these thoughts from his mind. His entire existence had been turned upside down. Where did he truly belong in the world? With the parents that had never told him the truth about his parentage? With his brother?

All of it sounded like a bunch of insanity.

The chime of an incoming text message made him flinch. He cautiously picked up his phone.

“My mom lied this morning. I got the true story. I’m coming over.” Dominic’s message was straight and to the point. That didn’t change the fact that Miguel’s stomach flip flopped as he read it. What if Dominic was just making something up to try and get him to come back?

“No,” typed Miguel. He quickly erased that and tried again. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Again, he erased the message. “Leave me alone.” He erased the message again, growled in frustration, and tossed his phone onto to the sofa beside him.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? All he wanted to do was help Dominic prepare for the barbecue competition. That’s it. They would win. He’d get the money he needed to pay off the hospital bills and everything would go back to normal. At least, that’s what he hoped.

Now, that outcome seemed less likely with every passing moment.

The sound of footsteps on the front porch made his blood run cold. Miguel sat bolt upright and watched the door with nervous anticipation. His breathing was shallow and his body felt like it was wound so tightly that it might snap.

A moment passed. The front door opened and Pablo stepped inside, humming a song to himself.

“Dad?” Miguel’s tension left him all at once. He sank into the cushions of the couch and shook his head slowly. “What are you doing home?”

Pablo looked up at his son and smiled. “I just came back for lunch. Forgot to pack something when I left this morning. You’ve been so busy lately, I hardly get to see you. Why don’t I make us both something to eat?”

Miguel’s stomach churned at the thought of food. He knew he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten since that squid last night, but he didn’t think he could keep anything down right now.

“D-dad, I...” Miguel’s voice trailed off and he looked away.

“Miguel? What’s the matter?” Pablo approached him. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well. I can get you some medicine.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...” he looked over at his father. “Dominic’s mom said something to me this morning...I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

“She told you that you were Frederico’s son, didn’t she?” Pablo sighed and lowered himself into the overstuffed chair across from Miguel.

“She said the timing was wrong. That Mom had cheated on Frederico and there was no way that you two had been together long enough for me to be your son.” The words spilled out Miguel so quickly that he could barely keep up with them.

“Your mother and I were together for nearly a year before we told Frederico the truth. There was plenty of time for her to become pregnant with you. Julia only knows part of the story, and she’s always resented the fact that she was Frederico’s second choice.” Pablo looked tired, as if his past sins were weighing down on him.

“But she was still with Frederico. So that means...”

“What difference does it really make?” asked Pablo, looking Miguel directly in the eye. “I’ve raised you as my son without a moment’s hesitation. I accepted you and never once questioned whether or not you were my flesh and blood. I love you, Miguel, and I always will. All of this is ancient history.”

“I slept with Dominic!” Miguel blurted before he could stop himself. He clenched his eyes shut and shuddered as he imagined all of the thoughts that must be swirling through his father’s head right now.

“And you think...that he might be your half-brother?” asked Pablo.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly. His father’s expression was thoughtful.

“I guess I understand why you’re so upset. But when it comes down to it, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Pablo seemed a lot more calm than Miguel had anticipated. He rose from his chair and crossed the room to the gallery wall where the family photos all hung. “This picture has been hanging here on the wall every day since you were born. I guess you sort of become blind to things you spend a lot of time around.” He removed an old photo from the wall and carried it to Miguel.

“What’s this?” asked Miguel, as he took the picture from his father.

“Just look.”

Miguel looked down at the face smiling back at him. A moment frozen in time. “Wh-who...”

“My father, your grandfather. His name was Miguel. He died when you were just a baby. I doubt you remember him.” Pablo’s voice was strained as he spoke.

“He looks...like me.”

“Well really, you look like him,” chuckled Pablo. “As you grew older it became more obvious. That picture is from when he was about your age. It’s not quite as perfect as a reflection, but the similarities are obvious when you’re looking.”

Miguel looked up from the picture. “Dad...”

“You’re my son, Miguel. I don’t need any other proof than this photo right here.”

Miguel’s chest tightened. Sure, it wasn’t concrete, scientific, evidence but it was proof enough. He rose from the sofa and hugged his father. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Pablo, squeezing Miguel warmly. “You just had a little scare is all. Nothing to worry about.” He smiled and held his son at arm’s length. “Why don’t you hang that back up, and I’ll make us some lunch, okay?”

Before Miguel could answer, the front door burst open and Dominic unceremoniously stumbled through.

“My father’s sterile!” he announced, breathlessly.

Silence fell over the room as the three men exchanged awkward glances.

“Well then, that solves it pretty conclusively I think,” said Pablo with an uncomfortable laugh. “I’ll just go get started on lunch then, shall I?” He hastily excused himself to the kitchen.

“How is that even possible?” asked Miguel with a frown. “You’re here. If he’s sterile...” he let the sentence hang.

“Right, well...” Dominic closed the door behind him and brushed his hands through his hair before answering. “The thing is, I’m adopted.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Pablo’s voice emerged from the kitchen. He peeked out into the living room. “They tried to tell everyone that the baby was just small and Julia hid the pregnancy well, but there were a lot of us that thought it was suspicious.” He was grinning from ear to ear until he appeared to realize that might not be appropriate. “Right, sorry for interrupting.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Then...” Miguel was hesitant to continue his question. Part of him felt like he already knew the answer. It was the only obvious conclusion.

“Isaac was my birth father,” said Dominic.

Miguel felt a stab of pain through his chest. “Dominic, I-I...I’m so sorry.” His throat tightened and his eyes stung. “I didn’t...I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Dominic stepped forward and placed a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Think about it, really think. That picture you took. What did it show?”

“It was Isaac.” Miguel tried to recall the image as vividly as possible. “He was unloading crates of drugs from his boat and handing them off to some other guys.”

“Right, but how did you know they were drugs?”

“I...heard someone ask him how many kilos of cocaine he had brought them.” Understanding began to dawn on Miguel. “If no one else heard the conversation...”

“The police couldn’t use your picture in the case they were building. Without a witness to back up the evidence in the photograph, it became useless to them.” Dominic looked Miguel in the eye. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I spent so much time blaming you that I never stopped to think about it logically. You did try to turn him in and that still hurts, but in the end what happened to him wasn’t your fault.”

“Then who did it?” His chest was tight. After carrying this guilt for so long, he could barely dare to hope that what Dominic was telling him was true.

Dominic sighed and turned away. “My mother.”

“Julia?” Miguel shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she?”

“Because my dad and Isaac were going to tell me the truth when I turned sixteen, and she thought she was going to lose me. That’s probably the same reason why she told us we were related this morning even though she knows that’s impossible.” Dominic seemed unsettled by the entire thing.

“She sounds insane,” said Miguel with a frown.

“She’s just trying to protect her son,” explained Dominic, turning to face Miguel.

“You spent twenty-five years being angry with me because I took a picture and left it at a police station. Your mother actually betrays Isaac and your father, then lies to us this morning, and you’re going to defend her?” Miguel clenched his fists as he tried to bite back the anger in his throat.

“She’s my mother, and she clearly needs some sort of counseling, but I can’t just turn my back on her.” Dominic dropped into the overstuffed chair and buried his face in his hands. “I just...I don’t know how I feel about any of this.”

Miguel tried to calm down and find the words to say to reassure Dominic. He couldn’t understand the misguided loyalty Dominic had towards the woman who had essentially killed his birth father.

“I just...I’m tired of being angry all the time. I’m tired of blaming people for what happened to Isaac.” Dominic looked up at Miguel. “When he was arrested, he stayed silent. He could’ve turned in his bosses for a lesser sentence, but he refused. The only one to blame for Isaac’s actions is Isaac. Not you, not my mother.”

Miguel took a deep breath. “I kind of wish you’d come to that realization sooner,” he said as he finally moved to hang up the picture that his father had given him. “I feel like we’ve lost so much time.”

“I know,” said Dominic. “I’m sorry, Miguel. For all the times I punched you in the nose. For all the yelling and arguing. I’m sorry that I blamed you for all of it.”

“I’m sorry too, Dominic,” said Miguel, turning back towards him. “I’m sorry that we’re not going to be able to finish this competition together.”