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I… I always hoped I’d see her again. I’ve played the scenario so many times in my head, but now that I’m finally seeing her for real, I’m left stunned. I’m having difficulty focusing and processing all of this.
“I found Dad,” the little kid says as he points right at me.
She laughs nervously and somehow gets even redder.
“Dad?” I whisper as I turn back to the kid.
My heart starts racing as I do the mental math. About five or six years ago… He’s about five or six…
Holy. Shit.
Fiona stands up and grips the kid’s hand so hard he winces.
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” she asks as she looks around shyly.
I’m too stunned to answer as I turn back to the kid.
Is he… mine?
It can’t be. But those eyes… That face… I looked just like that when I was a kid.
“Yeah,” I say as I stand up from the table. “There’s a room in the back.”
They follow behind me as I walk with my back straight and my mind swirling. This is crazy. This has to be a joke. A kid? I have a kid??
Maria the organizer brings us to a private room with a leather couch and some snacks and drinks set up on a table.
Lucas goes right for the bags of chips. “Can I have one, Mom? Please?”
“Sure, honey,” she says with a tight smile. “Just don’t spill it on the couch.”
We both watch as he sits on the couch, rips open the bag, and accidentally spills half of the chips on the couch.
“Oops,” he says as he looks at us.
We both rush over and scoop up the spilled chips like we’ve been doing this for years.
“Thanks,” Fiona says as we walk over to the garbage and dump the chips in.
She turns to walk back over, but I grab her forearm, stopping her.
“He’s… my son?”
She smiles nervously at me. “Surprise.”
I swallow hard as I slowly turn back to him. He’s munching on the chips while smacking his shoes together. He’s so beautiful. He’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.
My eyes get hot as I try to process all of these swirling emotions.
Seeing my dream girl again, seeing my son for the first time, I don’t know what to think.
“Are you mad?” she whispers as I let go of her arm.
“Mad?” I repeat as I look at her. “Fiona, I’m the opposite of mad. I’m still trying to process all of this, but I am not mad.”
She smiles shyly as her eyes drop to the floor. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to remember me.”
“Of course, I remember you,” I say with my hands shaking. I just want to grab her and kiss her. I want to hold onto her and never let go. “You are unforgettable, Fiona. I’ve thought about you every day since.”
