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He’d roamed rent-free in my head, clouding my waking thoughts and dreams at night, whispering,“I’ll find you, kitten. And when I do, I’ll make you fucking pay.”
With a tired sigh, I tossed the covers to the side, tied my hair in a messy bun, and threw my legs off the bed. I rolled my shoulders and stifled a yawn. Time to wake up and leave him behind in my dreams like I did every morning.
Warm silence engulfed the room. I snatched a towel from the rack, tossed it over my shoulder, and stuck a toothbrush in my mouth. I caught a glimpse of my staid reflection and lowered my head to spit in the sink.
If I didn’t recognize myself through my puffy eyes, a worthy cringe would have sufficed for a reaction. To blend in and keep a low profile, I’d dyed my hair a bold, daring auburn shade. At first, it looked weird, but I’d grown to love it. The auburn no longer shone now; it had dimmed, as the years passed, to a dull brown and my dark roots had grown out again.
The straight strands stuck out from the loose scrunchie and fell scantily by the sides of my face.
The shower was brief, cold, and everything I needed to start my day. I blew out my hair, teased it, changed into my clothes, and headed to the kitchen.
First things first: oatmeal, strawberries, and milk. And avocado toast, of course. I hummed, swayed my hips to a song I’d learned from Jeremy Smith, a colleague at work, and servedtwo plates. One big, and another smaller one, with minions fromDespicable Mebrandedon it.
The gentlepitter-patterof feet echoed in the small single-walled kitchen and a smile touched my lips when small hands wrapped around my shin and smacked a sweet wet kiss on my leg. I bent and scooped him in my arms.
He smelled like a fresh summer breeze, mixed with the scent of vanilla baby lotion.
“Good morning, handsome Xander,” I gurgled on his neck, and he squealed in delight. His dark-blonde hair tickled my chin and his green eyes twinkled. My heart squeezed. Why did he have to look so much like him?
“Morning,Mommy.” Another wet kiss on the cheek. Laughing, I munched on a strawberry and handed him one too.
“Who’s hungry?”
“Me!”
I strapped him in his highchair, placed the minion’s plate with the oatmeal on the table, and set the small spoon in his hands. I smacked a kiss on his soft, puffy cheeks and went to the counter, to turn on the coffee maker.
I watched him lift the tiny spoon to his mouth to eat. I gushed. Couldn’t help it. This little bundle of joy was the cutest. And he wasmine.
I lifted the mug to my lips and sipped my coffee. I remembered the torture I went through, having to move, and focusing on raising Xander alone. The lonely days, depressing times. I felt even more alone and abandoned than ever before. Helpless. Worthless. It was hell. One I never wished to go through again.
I might have felt a twinge of regret, giving myself to his father that night. But I felt no regret making the decision to keep him.
Alexander was my world; my everything. My happiness and satisfaction revolved around him. However, there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think about how different my baby’s life would have turned out ifhehad been involved.
Guilt twisted my guts, but I shook it off and took another sip from the mug. I’d made the right decision. His father’s world was a dangerous one. I didn’t want Alexander to grow up in such an environment. Guns, drugs,sex...
A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed hard to push it down, as my eyes became misty.
Xander waved a strawberry at me, and I flashed an absentminded smile.
That night had been undoubtedly the best night of my life. My skin still tingled at the thought of it. But I couldn’t say the same about him. He probably had a lot of “best nights.”
If it weren’t me, it could have been anyone else. And who would have said that he’d have accepted the child as his? I suffered enough humiliation as it was. I doubted if I'd have had the strength to withstand another.
What was I doing? Thinking abouthim, again?
I dropped the mug, finished off my toast, and crouched to feed Xander the rest of his oatmeal. He clapped his hands in glee, and we broke out into a farm animal song from a kid’s movie he liked. After a little playtime, he snored softly on my shoulder. I teased his soft locks and kissed his forehead. Now, he smelled like milk and oatmeal.
My phone chimed and I plucked it from the counter. It was a text message from my manager to check a few fabrics on my way to work. I typed in a quick response and tucked my phone in my back pocket.
It chimed again and, sighing, I pulled it out. Another text message, this time from Juju.
Juju: Long Johns or Donut?
I grinned and typed back.
Me: Already had avocado toast so... donuts.
