Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Ben
Within weeks, the divorce proceedings are underway. As it happens, we agree about finances and the childcare situation, so this should speed the process along.
Kelsey told me about her new love interest. She didn’t use the word boyfriend, maybe it felt too soon. Or maybe it just sounds wrong for a grown man. Either way, who am I to judge?
When she told me she was dating, I was sad, but surprisingly, not jealous.
Even though I don’t want Kelsey, I always assumed I would hate anyone who did.
Turns out, I want her to be happy. I married Kelsey because she made sense.
We worked in our teenage dream way, but now grown, I realized that we had gotten life all wrong.
But Bex... Bex made me feel. She made me brave. My time with her may have been short, but it was the most right I’d ever felt. And I broke her anyway. I walked away, even though every part of me screamed I shouldn’t. I deserve to end up where I am—alone.
The night after Kelsey and I filed the paperwork, I called the pretty bartender who’d given me her number.
We met on Friday evening for a drink. Her name’s Felicity, and she’s only twenty-four years old.
She’s bright and bubbly, with a skin-tight red dress and bedroom eyes.
I knew she wasn’t looking for anything serious and was brazen about what she wanted from me.
After hearing about her past sex parties with men and women, she invited me along to the next one. As free and exciting as it sounded, and even though my cock was in full agreement of taking advantage of the situation, I declined the invite politely and scuttled off home to bed.
Maybe I missed my window to be reckless. Or maybe I was never that guy to begin with. Her offer had little appeal. I’ve always been a romantic at heart, and fleeting relationships with no connection don’t do it for me.
When I’m with a woman, I long to be consumed by her.
The thought of performing in front of multiple partners sent chills down my spine.
But Felicity was refreshing, and the way she kissed me when she left reawakened something long dead as the blood rushed through my veins. I realized I wanted to try again.
***
Ollie won’t stop talking about his friend, Liam.
They’re joined at the hip in school and play constantly together.
When I go to collect Ollie each afternoon, I can’t get over how alike they are with baby-blue eyes and jet-black hair.
The way Liam grins, the glint in his eye…
it’s like looking into a memory I didn’t know I had. I shake the thought off as ridiculous.
Their teacher tells me it’s as if they are old souls that have known each other forever. I ponder idly that I should try to introduce myself to his family. I’ve never seen him get picked up, so I don’t know who his parents are. Ollie tells me that Liam only has a mummy, and she looks like Barbie.
I hide at the back of the group of parents waiting for their children at the gate, listening to some idle chitchat about the price of milk or what hair salon they use.
When the mothers discovered my separation, they cornered me at every school pick up for six months. Being single and a doctor in your late thirties has its advantages with women. I enjoyed the attention, but the advances became too blatant. I stopped turning up so early.
Spring is well underway, and most of the women are wearing some sort of dress, legs on show. The last few days have been lovely, warmer-than-normal spring days. The cloud of winter has disappeared, along with the cold weather.
A tall redhead named Kelly Winston approaches me. She lost her husband in a car accident a few years ago. Left with two kids and spiraling debt, she’s been hunting for a replacement for a while. It’s a position I have no intention of filling.
“Ben,” her voice purrs, and I freeze. The most effective defense is to react with sounds, not words.
“Kelsey tells me you’re getting divorced now.
Her new man seems like a keeper.” The information she possesses surprises me, and I blink at her, lost for a second.
Perhaps I should be offended, but I’m not.
Hearing positivity about this mystery man is comforting.
I need to be realistic; if Kelsey moves on, whoever she’s with will be around my kids.
And I’d rather someone I can trust than someone I hate.
“Maybe now you will take me for that drink?” she whispers in my ear. “We would be so good together.”
Without a word, I make my way to the other side of the standing parents. She huffs angrily in the background. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” I mutter under my breath.
It’s then I notice the small black-haired boy, Liam, skipping toward a woman standing by the fence.
Her back is to me, but she’s tall and wearing fitted black fitness leggings with a long t-shirt that finishes at her butt.
Platinum-blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail and slid through a black baseball cap.
She looks as if she’s been running or at the gym.
Liam runs to her, and she kneels to scoop him up.
Her arms wrap around his tiny body, his nose in her neck.
The show of affection is beautiful to watch.
Then she turns, and I see her in profile.
The turn of her head, the angle of her cheekbone, the exact shade of her ponytail catching the sun. It’s her.
I forget how to breathe. My past, my guilt, my worst regret, is standing ten feet away in a baseball cap.
“Bex,” I call before I can stop myself. I feel the other mothers’ eyes snap my way, watching. “Bex, it’s me.”
She turns, and her face drops on sight. Ollie spots me from the gate and runs up to join our little group.
The boys fall into a game they’ve obviously been playing on and off all day, morphing into character easily.
Bex’s face looks as if she has seen a ghost; there’s horror there.
Her eyes dart to the little black-haired boy playing with my son.
“How are you?” I ask carefully. “It has been a long time. Five years? Six?” She nods, but no words come forth.
“Have you just moved here? Terry said nothing, and I only spoke to him last week.” Her eyes keep moving from my face to the children and back again.
She looks as if she is getting ready to run.
“The boys have become friends. For weeks, all Ollie has talked about is Liam this, Liam that.” Her mouth opens, then closes again.
Like she’s debating whether to run or lie.
Or both. Then, when she speaks eventually, it’s too bright, too polished.
As if she’s squeezing every syllable of happiness into each word.
“Yes,” she says with a smile. “Liam is quite infatuated with Oliver, too.”
My eyes hold hers. There’s so much I want to say, to ask. So many apologies I need to make. But instead, I opt to focus on the children. It seems the safest topic of conversation.
“So, what brings you here? Is he your friend’s? Are you helping on the school run?”
She looks at me blankly, cocking her head to the side. “Liam?” she asks. I nod, but she sighs deeply and takes the little boy by the hand.
“No, Ben, he’s mine.” She snaps her eyes away. “Come on, honey, time to go home. See you tomorrow, Ollie.”
My brain misfires, thrown by the unexpected explanation. He’s mine, she said. The boy with my eyes and smile. She looks at me one last time. Not angry. Not even sad. Just… empty. Lost. Then she turns, her hand tightening on her son’s as they walk away toward town.
***
Sitting in my living room with the children in bed is probably the loneliest time of the day. This is the point where I would love to have a partner to chew the day over with, moan about the crap times and celebrate the good ones.
The bedtime routine is tiring on your own. I think back to seeing Bex, and I wonder if her husband helps her. I wonder if he’s in the picture at all. But Ollie says that Liam doesn’t have a father, so maybe she’s doing this all on her own.
Exhaustion hits, and I decide to go to bed.
My dreams are filled with old images of past lovers and little black-haired boys with bright-blue eyes.
There’s a nervous sensation in my belly that won’t go away.
The ridiculous conclusions I’m jumping to become more believable as each hour passes since I reconnected with Bex today.
I wake in the early hours, sweat pouring off my brow. I calculate the years. Liam is in the same class as Ollie, but depending on his birthday, they could be up to twelve months apart in age. When was the last time I saw Bex?
You slept with her the last time you saw her, you idiot. Then you ran out in the morning, never to return.
But when was that?
Kelsey was pregnant with Ollie, I think. My brain hurts from trying to retrieve the information I need. Yes, I’m sure Kelsey was pregnant. Liam is around the same age, with blue eyes and black hair. Shit, could he be mine?
But surely Terry would have told me? Then again, if Bex had asked him not to or just never admitted who the boy’s father was, maybe he wouldn’t. We’ve never discussed Bex. I consider calling Terry now, but the clock is blinking that it’s three in the morning.
I’ve left Bex twice. Once when I chose comfort over courage. And again, when I let silence stretch between us after reconnecting. She gave me a piece of her, and I walked away. What kind of man does that?
Settling back on my pillow, I tell myself I’ll ask her tomorrow.
Directly. No third-party interference. No excuses.
If he’s mine, I’ll be his father. Maybe the old Ben would’ve walked away, ran even.
But that man—the man who failed her—he’s not who Bex or Liam needs.
If I can support them, if he is my son. I’ll do everything in my power to be there.
The next morning, I arrive at the school and drop Ollie off ten minutes early.
I sit and watch everyone else arrive. Children are being herded by harassed parents from cars, bundled into jackets, and pushed through the school doors.
The tiny people carry bags the same size as them, filled with books and pencils.
I’m watching a large lady with four small children. She’s extracting them from her car and lining them up military style before distributing their equipment for the day, when I spot Liam. But it’s not his mother walking him to school. It’s Amy.
Suddenly, I’m furious. Somewhere beneath it, though, there’s fear.
Because if I’m right, I’ve already failed him, and that is never the father I thought I was.
As a partner, a husband, I’ve fallen short time and again, but as a dad, I always thought I did well.
Better than well, good, great actually. My kids want for nothing, and I always have time to spend with them.
If Liam is mine, I can no longer placate myself with believing that is true.
Amy kisses her nephew on the cheek and turns back the way she came. I run after her, catching her within seconds. She’s shocked by my sudden appearance at her shoulder.
“What the hell, Ben? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she says, flashing me an annoyed look.
“Amy, why didn’t you tell me about Liam?” My voice is loaded. I’m bracing for the answer I don’t want. She looks away, guilt already etched on her face.
“It was none of your business.” She lifts her head and sticks her chin out defiantly. “Last time I checked, you were married.”
My eyes flare, and I glare at her. “When was he born?” She ignores the question and keeps walking. “Is he mine?” She stops and turns to face me, then takes a step forward, standing on her tiptoes so we are nose to nose.
“No, Ben, he’s not yours. He’s not anyone’s. He doesn’t have a father. He’s Bex’s son, and she’s an incredible mother. Leave her alone.” Her voice is shrill, furious.
Amy stalks off toward a white 4x4 parked by the curb, flinging open the driver’s door as she jumps in. I yank open the passenger door and climb in next to her.
“You fucking know what I mean,” I growl.
“Is he mine, Amy? He’s my spitting image.
He could be Ollie’s twin.” My voice breaks halfway through.
Because if she says yes, then I missed everything.
His first word. Every good night. Every scraped knee.
She sits there, hands in her lap, tears running down her face.
“It’s not my place to say.” Her eyes are red, weeping. “Please, Ben. Just leave it. You don’t want to open this can of worms. Think of Kelsey and your children.”
I throw open the car door, almost knocking a man off his bike as I jump out. He starts shouting at me. Amy takes her chance to bolt. Leaning over and slamming the door closed, she drives off.
I stand there on the curb, stunned. The ache of the missing answer settles deep in my chest. I know the answer. I knew it as soon as I saw Liam that first day.
There was an unmistakable familiarity, then, when I saw his mother, it all fell into place. The reality is, I left Bex once, then again. And now there’s a child I might’ve abandoned too. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I can’t live with not knowing.
It's time for me to step up and ask the difficult questions.