I was surrounded by darkness floating in a strange liminal space between consciousness and nothingness. Then, in the distance, I saw it–a faint glimmer of light. Without hesitation, moved toward it, my feet somehow finding solid ground Beneath me.
“Sophia!” A familiar voice called out, echoing through the void,
My heart skipped a beat. That voice–I would recognize it anywhere.
“Sam!” I called back, my pace quickening. “Sam, where are you?”
The light grew brighter as I approached, illuminating a silhouette standing in its glow. I broke into a desperate run, arms outstretched, fingers reaching for something–anything–to grasp onto.
But no matter how fast I ran, the distance between us remained unchanged. The harder I pushed, the more my body resisted, as if I were running through quicksand.
“Sam!” I cried out again, my voice breaking. “Please wait! I was wrong–I know I was wrong. Please come back… please?”
Finally, my strength gave out. I collapsed, my knees hitting the invisible ground beneath me. When I looked up, my blood froze.
Sam stood just a few feet away, his body covered in blood. His expressionless eyes stared through me, his face pale as death. He didn’t speak, didn’t move–just stood there, watching me with those vacant eyes.
I woke with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs, sweat soaking through my nightshirt. The sedative’s effects had worn off, leaving me disoriented and shaky. The bedroom was bathed in early morning light, the space beside me empty
and cold.
Henry hadn’t slept here.
The memory of yesterday’s events came rushing back–Thomas’s unwanted advances, Henry’s unexpected intervention, my breakdown at seeing Harper Davis, and finally, being sedated when I became hysterical.
Yesterday I had mustered courage to stand up to Henry, but in the cold light of morning, that courage had completely vanished. I buried my face in my hands, trying to shake off the lingering images from my nightmare.
The bedroom door creaked open, and I quickly wiped away any trace of tears. Billy peeked in, his small face brightening
when he saw I was awake.
“Mom! You’re finally up!” He bounded onto the bed, wrapping his arms around my neck. His familiar weight and scent grounded me, pushing away the remnants of my nightmare.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I managed, forcing a smile. ‘Did you sleep well?”
Billy nodded enthusiastically. “I had a dream about dinosaurs! They were friendly ones, and they let me ride on their
ast night?” backs!” His eyes suddenly narrowed with curiosity. “Where’s Dad? You didn’t sleep toge
The question caught me off guard. “I… I’m not sure where your father is,” I admitted, avoiding his searching gaze.
Billy sat back on his heels, a sly grin spreading across his face. know what Dad’s trying to do. He’s playing hard to get
Chapter 110
I nearly choked, “What did you say?”
“That’s what Aunt Betty said you were doing when you left, he explained matter–of–factly. “She said you were playing hard to get to make Dad appreciate you more.” He looked quite pleased with his adult knowledge. “Now Dad’s doing the same
bing!
I stared at my five–year–old son in disbelief. Kids these days were far too perceptive for their own good.
“Billy, it’s a bit more complicated than that, I began cautiously
“I know,” he interrupted, his expression suddenly serious. “Dad was trying to get you two alone last night. That’s why he asked me to sleep in my own room instead of with you.”
“Billy,” I sighed, unsure how to navigate this conversation. “Sometimes adults need to work through difficult things.”
“I don’t want you to divorce Dad,” he blurted out, his voice small but determined. “Divorce hurts kids the most. That’s what Jackson said at school. His parents got divorced, and now he only sees his dad on weekends, and he’s always sad.”
The pain in Billy’s eyes stabbed me right in the heart. I gathered him into my arms, holding him tightly against my chest.
“Sweetie, even if your dad and I aren’t together, we will both always love you,” I promised, kissing the top of his head. “That will never, ever change.“–
Billy pulled back to look at me, his eyes filled with pleading. “Why can’t we just be a family? All of us together–you, me, Dad, and Great–Grandpa. Why is that so hard?”
I felt tears threatening again and swallowed hard. Perhaps I had been too impulsive, too driven by my anger. The thought of causing Billy this kind of pain was unbearable. Maybe I needed to approach this more carefully, take things step by ste rather than charging ahead with divorce papers and ultimatums,
“Mom?” Billy pressed when I didn’t immediately answer. “So you’re definitely divorcing Dad? I can’t have both of you in r life at the same time?”
“It’s… complicated, Billy,” I hedged, trying to find a way to change the subject.
“You always say that,” he complained, not falling for it this time. “But you and Dad used to get along. You were happy together. What changed?”
I sighed, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’re still too young to understand all the complexities of adult relationships, sweetheart.”
“Dad loves you,” Billy insisted stubbornly. “I know he does. Last night, I saw him carrying you to the bedroom. He looke really worried.”
I didn’t know how to respond. How could I explain to my five–year–old the difference between obligation and love? How could I make him understand the years of neglect and betrayal?
“Billy, this is grown–up business,” I said firmly, trying to use adult authority to make h need to worry about.”
ncede. “These aren’t things
“But I do worry!” he protested, his voice rising. “I want us to be together! Why can’t we? Why do you want to divorce Dad?”
A Chapter 110
Desperate to find a way to explain, I tried a different approach Billy, imagine if you really liked your classmate–what was
her name?”
“Emily, he corrected, frowning at my poor memory.
Right, Emily. Now, what if you really liked Emily, but she liked another boy instead? Would you still want to play with her every day?”
Billy’s face scrunched up in thought before he answered confidently, “Emily wouldn’t like someone else. I’d make sure she only liked me!”
I gave up, realizing the futility of trying to explain the adult world to a child who still possessed such innocence.
Billy suddenly reached for his wrist, tapping at his colorful children’s smartwatch. Before I could ask what he was doing, he was already speaking into it.
“Dad? Dad, why aren’t you home? Why didn’t you sleep with Mom last night?”
My heart stopped as I reached for the watch, but it was too late. To my surprise, a female voice answered instead of Henry’s.
“You must be Billy, right?” The voice was light and melodious, immediately recognizable.
“Who is this?” Billy asked, his eyes wide with confusion.
Isabella’s soft laugh carried through the speaker. “I’m the person who loves you most in the world! And the one your daddy loves too. You can call me Aunt Isabella.” There was a pause before she continued sweetly, “Your daddy just stepped out to get me something delicious to eat. Would you like to come join us?”
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