I could let her words sting, but they were expected. She’s attacking because she knows there’s truth in my words. I walk to the door. “I’m surprised you gave me the courtesy of stabbing me in the chest when it would’ve been so much easier in the back. But that’s what arrogance does. It makes you feel superior to those you feel you’re above. But it also reveals your weakness.”
“My weakness is my child.”
“Cooper’s not a child, and trust me, he never belonged to you.”
She opens the door and looks me over once more. “If you choose to become a mother one day, you’ll understand why I’m doing this. As a mother, I will do anything to protect my child.”
“One day” is not as far off as she believes, but I’ll give her credit where it’s due. I will do anything to protect my child . . . from her. Even if it means giving up the love of my life.
Six Years Later
Part III
When You Least Expect It
“That’s quite the victory. You should be very pleased, Cooper.”
I’m too busy staring at the settlement in my hands to focus on celebrations or participate in a round of back-patting.
All legal fees are paid.
Trust funds from relatives I never knew are now available to access.
No contact—the condition I added agreed upon.
But it’s the amendment my parents added that I keep rereading. It’s hush money at best. They’ll do anything to save their reputation and re-stabilize their standing in society.
I’ve spent years fighting for what’s rightfully mine, what was taken from me illegally, that I’ll never get back . . . like other things, and people . . .
Specifically, Story.
But like my lawyer said, this is a victory in most ways. I just didn’t expect to have to sacrifice my life to win.
34
Story
New York City
* * *
“It’s an amazing turnout, Story.” Lila one-arm hugs me since her other hand is busy holding Reed’s hand. “You know how I feel about your photography already, but I’m blown away by this exhibit. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. That means so much to me. Annnnd,” I say, booping Reed on the nose. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your help.”
I kneel, smiling while looking into those hazel eyes of his. “What do you think, buddy?”
“I’m proud of you, too, Mommy.” Releasing Lila, his arms come around my neck in a tight squeeze. Wobbling on my heels, I balance by hugging him right back, forgetting that he’s already too tall to do this anymore. Kneeling definitely gives him the advantage in this situation to his average height mom.
“Thank you, sweetie. That means even more to me.”
When he smiles, getting that look in his eyes like I’m his whole world, I see so much of his dad in him. My heart beats a little faster as if he’s near me again. Maybe because he never really left, still taking up time in my head and space in my heart.
Lila takes his hand again, and says, “We should get going and let the artiste do her thing. I also promised Jake we’d get Shake Shack on the way home. Bribery is about the only thing I can do to get him to leave his room and those computer games behind.”
“Whatever works, right?”
“We do what we can.” Understanding is exchanged in a look and a nod. We’re both survivors in different ways, but single motherhood was an unexpected turn that continued to bond us together. Lila moved her son to the city five years ago after I had been in my new job for six months. Now she runs a donut shop in Brooklyn that she’s turned into a word-of-mouth sensation. “I’m keeping Reed for the night since I’m off in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do. It’s the only way I can force you to have some fun. Drink some wine, mingle,” she says, laughing and bobbing her head. Raising an eyebrow, she mouths, “Get laid.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s what got me into this.” I won’t ever call my son a mess in this context because for him, I would go through everything all over again. But dating and sex, together or individually, are really the last thing I have time for between being a mommy to a five-year-old, my day as a financial analyst, and my photography that I’m trying my best to turn from a hobby into my profession.
Who has room for anything else? Not me.
After she retrieves Jake from the hors d’oeuvre buffet, I walk them out after another warm embrace. Kissing my boy on top of his head, I can’t help but notice how much darker his hair is getting as he grows older.
I wave goodbye through the window before getting dragged away to “talk up” my pieces to sell.