Dare To Love Again

That thought had damn near put me in an institution. But even when my mind came up with these scenarios, there was always a part of me that questioned whether or not it could be true. The girl I’d known, the sweet, soft-spoken angel who’d wormed her way into my heart, hadn’t had an ounce of avarice in her. I’d had to damn near browbeat her into taking any form of money from me, and gifts used to leave her speechless.

Had it all been an act? Had I fallen for the oldest con? I’d driven myself crazy with those questions and more until I had to put her and our time together out of my mind, or I would’ve lost myself for sure. In those days, mom had begged me to look for her, so convinced was she that there was something else at play here.

But I couldn’t see what that could be. Giselle had never mentioned anything dark in her past, and though she didn’t like talking about her family, I’d just assumed that they’d had a rocky relationship like so many others do. I knew her dad was dead and had been for a while, but she never spoke of her mom or any siblings, so I got the impression that she was all alone in the world.

That had only made me want to love and protect her even more, and I’d gone out of my way to be all that she’d ever need. Mom had treated her like the daughter she never had, something that was very surprising for my stalwart mother, who tends to keep everyone except family and her closest friends at arm’s length.

But from the very start, she’d taken to Giselle, something that had pleased me immensely. After Giselle left, mom had been almost as hurt as I was, but she’d been afraid as well, constantly pestering me to call the police or hire an investigator. She’d been convinced since day one that something had happened to my wife, now ex.

It had been more than a year since anyone had mentioned her to me or even hinted that she ever existed. Until yesterday when Donovan called me in the middle of a very important meeting. I knew right away that something was wrong from his tone, but never in a million years could I have expected the words he had to say to me.

I had a son; he was sure the boy was mine since he was my spitting image. Rage and joy had mixed and mingled in my chest and gut, and if I had wings, I would’ve flown to my boy. I had to keep my feelings of anger at bay until I had my child in front of me. I took a chance and called Giselle’s old cellphone number, something I still knew by heart, and when she answered, a whole host of emotions had gone through me.

It never entered my mind that Donovan could be wrong. From the way he described the baby, I too had no doubt that the child could be mine. I did the math in my head from his calculations and came to the conclusion that she must’ve been at least a month pregnant when she left me. Which meant she may or may not have known she was carrying my child when she walked out the door.

None of that was important at the time though all that mattered was having my son in my arms. It had been hell waiting after that phone call, and when she finally drove up, I thought my heart would stop working. Then seeing that little face so like mine for the first time… I cannot put into words the raw emotion I felt and still do now.

I’d made a child with the woman I loved, and he was perfect. He had none of the bitch in him, something that would come in handy when I rip her out of his life for good once I get my lawyers on it. I don’t need reminders of her for the rest of my life, so the fact that my son was my carbon copy was just perfect. I wonder how this cold, heartless witch has lived with my exact replica for these past few months? I hope it gave her indigestion every fucking day and night.

I’m looking forward to destroying her. It’s obvious that there’s a very close bond between her and the boy, but I plan to sever that shit immediately. I’ve already contacted a very reputable agency to find him the best nanny, and once that’s done, I plan to kick my ex’s ass as far away from me and my son as possible. Let her see how that shit feels.

By the time we made it into the store, I was a raging mess inside. It was only the warmth and weight of my little man in my arms that kept me grounded. The saleswoman, a matronly type with a heavy British accent, was all smiles and very helpful, putting my son at ease within the first few seconds. All was going well as she showed us around the store as I chose the things I wanted to be delivered immediately. That is until she remarked about my ‘wife’ and what a lovely family we were.