Chapter 12
491words
Owen kept asking why "Mr. Nolan" stopped visiting, and I had to invent excuses—he was busy with work, traveling overseas, in important meetings. Each lie felt like a knife twisting in my heart.
"Mommy, did Mr. Nolan stop liking me?" Owen asked one afternoon, his voice small and hurt.
"No, sweetheart, that's not it at all," I said, blinking back tears as I smoothed what remained of his hair. "Mr. Nolan just... has a lot of important work right now."
Owen looked down at his hands, quiet for a moment, then asked, "Mommy, is Mr. Nolan my real daddy?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. I froze, completely unprepared.
"When you were fighting, you said I was his son," Owen continued, his eyes suddenly wise beyond his years. "I heard you."
My pulse pounded in my ears. I'd thought he was too scared and confused to process what was happening. But he'd caught every word.
"Owen, that's... that's a very complicated situation," I stammered, searching for the right words.
"He is my daddy, isn't he?" Owen pressed, his eyes a mixture of hope and apprehension.
I took a deep breath and decided the time for lies was over. "Yes, Owen. Mr. Nolan is your daddy."
Owen's face went through a series of emotions—surprise, confusion, hurt. "Then why doesn't he want to be my daddy? Why doesn't he like us?"
"It's not that simple, sweetheart," I pulled him into a gentle hug. "Daddy just... doesn't know how to be a father yet. It's all very new to him."
Owen was quiet for a long moment, then asked in a small voice, "Will he ever come back?"
"I don't know, baby," I answered honestly. "But no matter what happens, Mommy will always love you and keep you safe."
Owen nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears, but he quickly wiped them away and put on a brave smile. "It's okay, Mommy. We don't need him. We're fine just us."
His bravery shattered me. A four-year-old child shouldn't have to be this strong, shouldn't have to comfort his mother about his father's rejection. It was too cruel, too unfair.
A week later, I was half-asleep on the uncomfortable cot in Owen's room around 3 AM. His condition had stabilized, but the doctors wanted two more weeks of observation. Weeks of round-the-clock vigilance had left me exhausted, but I remained on high alert, terrified Emma might return.
The door creaked open. I jolted awake to see Emma slipping in with an unfamiliar man in a dark suit.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I jumped to my feet, immediately placing myself between them and Owen.
