62
Gianna (27 Years)
“Come here, sweetheart.” I opened my arms wide, letting the green-eyed monster crash into me. “How was school today.”
“Boring,” he mumbled chewing on the gingerbread cookie that Dorothy, my live-in babysitter had packed in his lunchbox today. “Miss Rue was supposed to let us build straw houses today then she said she had a meeting and we couldn’t.”
His four-year-old mouth turned up in a pout as he climbed into the rear seat of the Lexus and buckled in. Checking it was tight because he moaned if I buckled him in, I closed the door and slid in behind the wheel.
“I’m sure she’ll let you guys do it tomorrow.” I looked at him in the rear-view mirror, started the car, and eased into the line of cars leaving the school.
He shook his head, his black pin-straight hair that curled just at the ends, flew around his face. “We’re doing finger-painting tomorrow.” He flexed his fingers as though eager to begin.
Smiling, I switched on the radio and ‘Sugar Sugar’ by the Archies filled the car.
“Sugar. Oh honey, honey. You are my candy girl and you got me wanting you. Honey...” we both sang.
This was our daily ritual, every time we jumped in the car, either to school or the store, we’d sing ‘Sugar Sugar.’ The first time Rowan heard it, he was two and he’d bounced on my lap until I got up and danced with him, singing the words along as we did and it became our go-to song.
“Did you see my new car, mama,” Rowan asked as soon as the song ended and he lifted a beautiful replica of a black Dodge Challenger.
My heart leaped straight from my chest, flew out of my mouth, and landed somewhere outside my window, crashing on impact as I slammed the brakes, jerking Rowan and me forward. A car horn blared behind me. I didn’t care. Maternal instincts taking over, my head snapped to my son.
“I’m sorry, baby, did I hurt you?” I was already jumping out my door and racing around to his side, swinging the door open with such force it was no wonder it didn’t break. Crouching next to him, I checked his body, my insides doing an aggravated somersault over and over. “Are you okay,” I palmed his cheek
Instead of fear, his lips broke out in a wide smile. “Let’s do it again, mama.”
For one shocking moment, I stared at him dumbfounded then I broke out in a relieved laugh. “That wasn’t a game, sweetheart, I could’ve hurt you.” I kissed his brow and as I drew back, my gaze fell to the Dodge, bringing memories of Zayne swiftly out of the cobwebs. Picking up the vehicle, I stared at it for a moment, expecting Zayne to open the door and step out. I swallowed against the sudden tears and looked at my son. “Where did you get this from, Rowan?”
“A man gave it to me. Can we go now, mama?” He was easily bored and could hardly sit still for two minutes unless he was drawing.
I frowned, a slow strum of nerves hitting my nape. “What man?”
Rowan rolled his head against the seat, smiling. “He was standing by the fence during play break. Can we pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee go?”
I opened my mouth to ask a question and kept rewording it so as not to scare him. “Did he tell you his name, Rowan?” I finally settled.
He stopped rolling his head and looked at me, his sparkling eyes reminding me of that first spring day freshness. “He said he was your friend and will come to visit us soon.”
Shit! Straightening, I closed the door and with my heart rate high enough to cause fatal blood pressure, I slid behind the wheel and drove home the second the engine roared to life. All through the short journey, I kept imagining different scenarios of who this person could be. Worse, what did they want? I kept glancing at Rowan in the rearview mirror, his safety my biggest priority.
Three hours later, and after glancing out the window every five minutes, I walked out of the kitchen. “Rowan, dinner’s ready.”
“Coming, mama.”
Mama. That single word always seemed to calm my anxieties every time I heard it yet it still brought a tingle of sadness for the child I’d lost. I leaned a shoulder against the arched entrance and watched Rowan. He lay on his tummy with his legs bent up at the knees, feet swinging around in the air, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth, furiously coloring. His energy and concentration might keep me on my toes, but it made me smile.
Five years ago, I walked away from a life steeped in blood and misery. Salvatore had declared his love for me, yet it wasn’t enough to make me stay. I just wanted out and his world would never come to a stop just because I demanded it. While he might love me and I felt something for him, I wasn’t sure I could make it work. He hadn’t stopped me and kept his promise about staying out of my life as if we’d never been married.
While I appreciated him respecting my wishes, I knew sooner or later, he was going to find out I had a child. Everyone knows robbing a father of his parental right is not fair on him but I found myself in a predicament. Having slept with both Zayne and Salvatore, days apart, I didn’t know who Rowan’s father was. Granted, DNA testing could provide that minor detail.
I didn’t think it was that minor because it could break hearts, cause undue stress and bring that whole rigmarole of my previous life. I couldn’t do it. Yes, I might be considered selfish but in my previous life, I was given very few choices this time I chose to do what I wanted. I chose peace and harmony with a boy that made my heart sing and my smile permanent.
