CHAPTER 3 #2
“Good.” It feels like I can breathe again. The thought of making my son feel uncomfortable or scared, after everything he’s already witnessed in his short life, feels like a knife to my chest. “Let’s go and get some breakfast so you have the brain fuel for art class.”
Wilde is practically jumping up and down before he grabs his small backpack, the one packed with art supplies—and I’m not talking about crayons—and straps it to his back like he’s ready to go off to college. I’m damn proud of myself when I don’t let the tears stinging the backs of my eyes fall.
He speeds through eating breakfast and barely throws a goodbye to me over his shoulder before he’s racing out of the dining room. There’s no doubt in my mind of his destination—the common room where art class is taking place.
Laura, one of the women who runs Safe Home, laughs softly as she watches Wilde seemingly levitate out of the room. “He’s excited,” there’s amusement coloring her words.
“I have no idea what time he got up this morning, but he woke me up, not the other way around,” I admit.
Laura gives me a knowing smile. “Maybe he’ll take a nap later.”
“I doubt it,” I chuckle. “Later he’ll just want to practice whatever he learned today.”
I hear some sort of commotion at the entrance of Safe Home, but I’m not worried.
The security measures for this shelter are top notch.
I’ve met some of the guys who are in charge of keeping this place safe.
With one look I knew they’re the kind of men who would rather die themselves than put anyone in this building in danger.
From what I’ve heard, they’re a group of former military men who now run a security firm in Denver.
When I first heard about them, I thought I would find them intimidating and they’d scare Wilde. It might have been a year since the last time we had to endure his abuse, but that doesn’t mean the scars aren’t still there. Not all men inflict pain, but not all men are safe either.
Meeting the men of Higgins Security made me feel even safer in Denver. Someone from the security firm is on call for us at all times and the cameras are monitored closely. It could feel like living in a cage, but it doesn’t.
Before I can investigate what is going on, Avery walks into the kitchen area with a big smile on her face. “Good morning, Haven and Laura,” she greets us brightly. “Knox met up with Wendy for the art class.”
My stomach swoops the moment she says the name Knox. I’m not sure if I’m reacting to his name or the thought of him being around my son. What if Wilde is scared of him? What does he look like? Is he prepared for the kids in class to be wary of him? Will he be a good teacher?
Before I can get too lost in those worries, Wendy walks into the room with a huge smile on her face. She must be able to read all the doubts on my face because she reassures me, her smile firmly in place, “Wilde is going to have so much fun during art class.”
I let out a breath, but it’s only half the capacity my lungs can hold.
I don’t think I’ll be able to breathe fully until I hear it from my son.
Part of me wants to rush into the room and check on him, but the rest of me knows I need to trust. Wendy, Laura, and the rest of the people I’ve encountered at Safe Home have never given me a reason to doubt them.
“That’s good,” I try and keep my voice bright, but I’m not sure I manage it fully.
“How about we head to my office, and we can chat, Haven,” Avery offers, pulling my attention further away from the fear over how Wilde is going to do with a man he’s never met before.
My throat is dry to the point that all I can do is nod and follow Avery.
Even though the office in question is more of a closet than the kind of office she could have, the smile on her face doesn’t falter as she motions toward the chair on the other side of her small desk.
As she sits, she can’t get close to her desk because of her pregnant belly, even though she tries.
“Thank you for being so patient about meeting with me,” she starts. “I wanted to get an understanding of the most critical issues first.”
“I know I’m lucky because I never married him.
” I swallow hard, unable to say his name out loud.
I haven’t said it in months, and I don’t want to.
There are moments when that part of my life feels like a lifetime ago.
There are moments when it feels like I’m still trapped in that cage.
“It would be so much worse if I was married.”
Avery nods sagely, “It would be. But not impossible to navigate.” She leans over her desk, giving me her full attention. “If you were married to him and needed to divorce, custody would be part of the agreement.”
“He doesn’t get custody of Wilde, not even partial or visitation or anything,” my voice is fierce and resolute.
Avery’s lips tip up before her eyebrows pull together and her eyes become glassy. Her voice is small, like she doesn’t even want the words to escape her lips, “Did he hurt Wilde?”
“No,” I bark the word and then soften my tone, “I made sure to protect Wilde. But I don’t know how long I would have been able to keep it up.”
“You did good, mama,” her voice is soft, but her words pack a punch. “Did he have any involvement in caring for him? Like in making sure his needs were met or taking him to appointments or anything of the sort?”
I scoff, unable to hold the sound back. “No, he was never involved. I don’t think he changed even five diapers when Wilde was still in them.
He never went with me to the doctor when I was pregnant or to any pediatrician appointments.
” I know the smile on my face is bitter as fuck, but I can’t help it.
“He didn’t even show up at the hospital when I gave birth. ”
Avery sits up a little straighter in her chair, her voice cautious, “Did he sign the paternity paperwork in the hospital?”
“Nope,” I pop the p, “he’s not on the birth certificate.”
Avery leans back and blows out a relieved breath. “That’s perfect. He could petition the court to prove paternity and be put on the birth certificate. We can come up with a plan for how to deal with it, if it were to happen, but from a legal standpoint you aren’t tied to him.”
Some of the weight from my shoulders disappears. Not all of it, not by a long shot, but enough.
Now I just need to figure out if Denver is where I want to set down roots and then make it happen. As safe as I feel here, I don’t want to take up space if someone else needs it more than me. And I think I’m ready to figure out what life really looks like with true freedom.