No Snow in South City’s Winter

Seven years after I cheated death, I saw Jenna again on a construction site.
She stood in the dust in her high heels while I squatted by a concrete pillar, shoveling a three-dollar lunch into my mouth.
A familiar voice, laced with hesitation, cut through the noise.
Leo Zio... is that you?
She reached out to touch my shoulder. The chopsticks in my hand froze. I looked up, and the noon sun was a blinding glare, making my vision swim.
Jennas voice trembled with a shocked delight. "It really is you! I thought after all these years, I thought you were"
I didn't answer. I just shifted my body, avoiding the hand that hovered in mid-air.
Her eyes instantly reddened. She pulled a silent, sullen teenager from behind her. "Alex was only ten when you left," she said, her voice catching. "We went to the crash site every year to lay flowers"
She choked back a sob. "Why didn't you ever come back to us?"
I silently scraped the last grain of rice from the container, my gaze drifting to the slight swell of her stomach.
Seven years is long enough to change everything. We were on different paths now.
Seeing my unresponsiveness, a flicker of frustration crossed Jenna's face. She took another step closer, her expression a complicated mix of pity and dismay as she stared at my dust-caked tank top.
"Are you still angry with me?" she asked. "Look at what's become of you since you left me. What good has it done you?"
I stood up and tossed the empty container into a trash barrel.
"You've got the wrong person," I said, my voice empty.
Jennas face froze. Her hands clenched into fists. "You can disown me, but are you going to disown Alex, too? He's your son!"
The boy standing beside her flinched, his head bowed. "Dad" he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.
My fingers, hanging loose at my side, curled slightly. The world went quiet for a moment, the only sound the wind whistling through the unfinished building. A moment later, one of the guys yelled that it was quitting time.
Jennas gaze remained fixed on me, burning into my back.
The foreman counted out a few crumpled red bills and stuffed them into my hand. A few hundred dollarsjust enough to cover a month's rent.
As I turned to leave, Jenna couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. "If you need anything, just tell me. Whatever you want, I'll help you get it."
Hearing that, I slowly turned back to look at her, and at Alex, who stood a few feet away. Under her expectant gaze, I silently pried her fingers from my arm, one by one.
"What I want," I said, "you can no longer afford to give."
Jenna opened her mouth to say something more, but the words caught in her throat. She didn't follow me. I didn't have the time or energy to waste on people who no longer mattered.
Just staying alive took everything I had.
I lived in a cramped, single room in a rundown tenement not far from the site. It was less than a hundred square feet, the roof leaked when it rained, and it was right next to the communal bathroom. The stench of stale urine was a constant companion, even in my sleep.
It was completely dark by the time I got back. Id just laid out my bedroll on the floor when a knock came at the door. I figured it was the landlord chasing rent, but when I opened it, I found Jenna standing there, looking hesitant.
Caleb Thorne stood beside her, his hand placed protectively over her pregnant belly. They were both dressed in designer clothes that looked painfully out of place in this slum.
My first instinct was to slam the door, but Caleb was faster, wedging his foot in the opening. He pushed his way inside, covering his nose and mouth as he scanned the squalid room, his eyes finally landing on me.
"When Jenna told me you were still alive, I didn't believe it," he said. "We all looked for you after the accident. Couldn't even find a body. We held a funeral for you, you know."
His words were so absurd I almost laughed. The fists at my sides tightened.
Caleb surveyed my living space, a flicker of what looked like pity in his eyes. "In the seven years you've been gone, Jenna and I got together." He paused, letting the words sink in. "We're not married yet, but she's pregnant with my child."
I finally looked up, meeting their gazes. "Are you finished? If you're finished, you can go." I pulled the door wide open, gesturing for them to leave.
Neither of them had expected me to be so calm.
Jenna's voice was hoarse. "I just want to help you."
At her words, an idea seemed to strike Caleb. He pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet, then pressed a business card into my hand.
"Leo, you used to be a lawyer. A damn good one. If you want, you can come work at my firm." He lowered his voice. "I know you're a ghost right now, no official records. We can help you with that. We're all old friends, Leo. There's no need to make things ugly."
Having said his piece, as if a duty had been discharged, Caleb took Jenna's arm to lead her away.
Before she left, Jenna looked back at me one last time. "Call me if you need anything. Alex he really misses you."
I slammed the door shut, cutting off her look of feigned concern. Then, without a flicker of emotion, I tore Caleb Thorne's business card into tiny pieces.
Jenna's so-called help was nothing but an attempt to buy absolution for her guilt. But seven years had passed. I no longer needed it.
After they left, sleep wouldn't come. Every time I closed my eyes, the past flooded back in, and with it, a hate that grew stronger with each passing moment. To distract myself, I started cleaning the filthy room.
In the corner was a dusty old box. As I lifted it, a picture frame fell out, shattering on the floor with a jarring crack.
It was a family photo. Me, Jenna, and a much younger Alex.
Alex wasn't my biological son. After Jenna and I married, I knew she had a low tolerance for pain, and I couldn't bear the thought of putting her through childbirth. So, I had a vasectomy.
We found Alex in a dumpster on a snowy Christmas Eve. He must have been abandoned right after birth; his umbilical cord was still attached. His tiny fists were clenched, and a weak, desperate cry came from his throat.
Jenna had frowned, trying to pull me away. "Leo, don't get involved. We don't have the energy for this kind of trouble."
But I couldn't leave him. I wrapped him tightly in my overcoat, using my own body heat to warm him as I rushed him through the blizzard to the nearest hospital.
He survived, but the exposure had left him with a congenital disability in his legs.
I brought the fragile baby home and named him Alex. He would be our son, the only child we would ever have.
But Jenna never truly warmed to him. She worried his disability would be a lifelong burden, and she feared the gossip of our friends and neighbors.
I took him to every specialist in the city, searching for any possible treatment. When his legs ached at night and he cried, I would hold him and walk him around the house for hours, humming tuneless lullabies until he fell asleep. Learning to walk was ten times harder for him than for other children; he fell again and again, and I was there to pick him up every single time.
I taught him to read. I carried him on my shoulders to see the stars. I worried his disability would make him feel insecure, so every day I told him he was the most wonderful boy in the world. The first time he called me "Dad," I grinned like an idiot for a week.
I poured everything I had into that boy.
Then Caleb Thorne came back, and everything changed.
Caleb was Jenna's first love. He had abandoned her when she was at her poorest, leaving the country to make his fortune. Only then did she meet me. The day he returned to the city, Jenna locked herself in her room for hours. After that, she started coming home late, and Alex began to change, too.
I had to go out of town for a work case. When I returned, I found Caleb at our house, playing with Alex.
Perhaps because of the insecurity from his disability, Alex rarely smiled, not even for me. But that day, he was laughing, truly happy, with Caleb.
Things spiraled out of control. The arrival of Caleb shattered the life we had built. I argued with Jenna, but she always dismissed my concerns.
"There's nothing between Caleb and me anymore, Leo. We're married."
"Don't be jealous over nothing."
"He's just back to build his career here. You're overthinking things."
Even Alex grew distant, resenting my discipline.
"Uncle Caleb would never be this strict with me. I hate you, Dad."
"I wish Uncle Caleb was my real dad. He'd give me anything I want."
A shard of glass from the broken frame cut my finger. Blood dripped onto the floor, staining the photo red.
We took that picture on Alex's fifth birthday. I still remembered his wish.
To be with Mommy and Daddy forever, and never, ever be apart.
A bitter smile twisted my lips.
I threw the photo into the trash.
Just then, my phone buzzed. A text message popped up on the screen.
[Dad, I'm turning 18 in a week. Will you come to my party?]
I didn't reply. I went to work the next day, same as always.
A week later, I had just hauled a bag of cement, my back screaming in protest, when Alex found me. He'd come alone this time. He stood before me, taller than me now. The limp was barely noticeable; you wouldn't see it if you weren't looking for it.
He fidgeted, his voice stiff. "Dad."
I didn't respond. I calmly hefted another bag of cement onto my shoulder and started to walk past him.
"Dad, wait!" he said, blocking my path. "Mom and I we've missed you all these years. You didn't answer my text. Today is my birthday. Can you please come? Just this once."
He pressed his hands together, begging, the guilt in his eyes raw and undisguised. It was the same look he had whenever he'd done something wrong as a child.
I watched him in silence. For a moment, time stood still.
"Alright," I said.
One last time. A final farewell to the past.

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