I look at Ben, sitting on the ground now, making strange noises and flying the rope through the air like is a spaceship, the children's imagination is enviable.
Sarah's still in front of me, waiting for a fucking answer.
“I had grown fond of the child, that's all.” I say embarrassed.
“He has parents, Bruno, you know that…”
“Yes, yes, it’s just—”
“Think of your parents and how they felt when Dante disappeared. Someone else is having the same feelings out there.”
She' s right, my parents died the very same day Dante vanished, their life, soul and marriage disappeared into thin air. I will never forget my mother's lifeless eyes, nor my father's dead silence.
“Just imagine the happiness they're going to have when we take Ben to them.”
Whispering even quieter to avoid Ben’s sharp ears, I point out, “He just told me that his mother left him alone in the car Sarah, he's like, what? Four, five years old? What kind of mother does that?”
I'm horrified about this new information.
“Any mother in the 21st century, Bruno, you don't know how hard it is to have a kid these days.” Her voice sounds compassionate, like somehow she knows what having a child means.
“Do you? Do you know?”
“No.” She sighs, looking down like she always does when my tone is a little defensive.
I hold her chin, and I force her to look at me. Her eyes lock with mine, there is sadness within them.
“Do you ever want to find out?” the question fires out of my mouth without my permission.
Her eyes get wider; I guess her heart stop beating.
I should keep my mouth shut.
“I never really thought about it,” she ends up saying.
I take her hands between mine and pull her towards me, wrapping my arms around her body; she rests her chin on my chest and looks at me with her beautiful lost blue eyes.
“I know that after everything I did to you, it’s totally unfair.” She opens her mouth to fire back, but I cut her off, “but if you ever want to be a mother, it would be an honor to be the father of your child.”
As soon as I say those words, she closes her eyes, hiding the sudden tears.
“Why are you crying, beautiful?” I ask, sweeping her tears with my lips.
“Because of your tender yet painful words.”
What the hell?
“Why did they hurt?”
"It hurts me that you keep remembering our past, when I’m totally over it. I'm focused on the now and the future Bruno, it's all I think about.”
“What is it you see in your future then?” my throat is suddenly dry.
“You, you fool!” she slams my chest with a closed fist, but immediately after she moans because of the pain in her stomach.
I need to check her wound.
“Ben taught me that hitting is wrong.”
