Page 64 of Love Beyond Repair
I try to push myself up into a seated position, but I can’t put any weight on my hand. Bloody hell, my wrist hurts. Eventually, I maneuver myself up to sit and wait for her to provide any more information on her outburst. She’s standing in front of me, panting, with her hands on her knees.
“Ben,” she gasps. “He’s worked out that Liam is his.”
I look at her, horrified, but not surprised. It wouldn’t take Einstein to look at the two of them and conclude they’re related. Being a doctor, I’m also sure Ben can do the math. A wave of panic washes over me, sending a shiver down my spine.
“What did he say, Amz?” Though my voice is calm, I’m a bundle of nerves inside. She tells me about him accosting her outside the school and sitting in the car, demanding answers. “I’ll need to talk to him,” I mutter. I’m not looking forward to that conversation.
Of course, getting Ben’s number meant seeing Terry. It feels like resurrecting a ghost. After falling pregnant, I deleted Ben’s contact and tried to wipe him from my history. Terry was the only one of us who had kept in touch with him, and that was sporadic. Even though I’ve never confirmed to Terry that Ben was Liam’s dad, he always knew. But he respected my choice to keep the information to myself, and as far as I’m aware, he’s shown Amy the same courtesy.
After Terry’s usual lecture about what I should or shouldn’t do, and what to confirm or deny, I escaped with Ben’s number typed into my phone. There had been no sign of Ben when I collected Liam from school. I did notice a woman who looked like Kelsey, but she was standing with a man I didn’t recognize. They affectionately linked arms. It must not be her. She’s married.
I breathed a sigh of relief and headed home. At least I could approach Ben on my terms, rather than him jumping me outside of the school like he had my poor sister.
Now I was sitting on my bed, looking at the number on my screen, wondering what the hell to do.
Do I call him?
Do I text him?
The little voice in my head is telling me, “You wouldn’t be in this position if you had bloody told him as you should have. Liam is his son; he deserves to know. Liam deserves to know his dad.”
But Ben has a wife and three kids, I argue with myself. An ideal life. A routine I have no part in. Can I really upset his perfect existence with this bombshell? Am I willing for my son to be the catalyst to war in someone’s home?
An hour later and fifteen typed, deleted, and retyped messages written, I still have sent none. Finally, I hit the call button, and he answers after one ring, taking me by surprise.
“Doctor Jones speaking.” His voice is professional; he thinks this is a work call. I stay on the line, silent. Suddenly, the confidence I’ve been building for the past hour has disappeared. “Hello, Doctor Jones speaking.”
He raises his voice. It’s got a sharpness that shows the type of boss he is, calm and in control. He takes no prisoners. I feel my insides liquefy. Even after all these years, his voice affects me. He grunts, obviously getting pissedoff by my lack of response. “Who is this?” he snaps, then mutters to himself. The words are not audible, but I sense he’s going to hang up.
“It’s me,” I whisper. “I need to talk to you.” There’s silence on the line, but I can hear him breathing, low and deep. “I need to talk to you about Liam. Your son.”
Tears prick my eyes, and my own breathing escalates. He stays completely silent. It feels terrifying to admit that out loud. To finally tell the man I should have confessed to years before that I have his child.
“Can we meet and talk about this? I know it’s a shock.” My words fall out rapidly, toppling over one another. “Bring Kelsey. We can discuss it all together.” I continue to blabber on about being a blended family and reciting the parenting blogs I’ve been reading since I bumped into him at school.How to get along with your child’s father. How to co-parent successfully.
“Why would I bring Kelsey?” he asks. “This is only between us. I can’t believe you never told me. How could you not tell me?” He sounds confused, hurt even.
“Kelsey’s your wife. This affects her, too,” I respond, thinking that would be obvious. His next words stun me into silence, and my head explodes with the information.
“Kelsey and I are getting a divorce. It didn’t work out, Bex.”
He waits. I think he’s waiting for me to say something. But what? That I’m glad? That it changes anything?Maybe in the past, but not now. Not after everything that’s been before.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all I can manage.
We arrange to meet the following day once he realizes I have no further comment to make. It’s civil. Polite. As if we barely know one another, which, in a way now, we don’t.
***
We meet in the café across the road from the school. It’s raining miserably. Moving to part-time hours has allowed me to be there to collect Liam most days. We have two hours until the boys are due to be picked up. I arrive ten minutes early because I want to be here first. I position myself at a table with a good view of the door. Today, I don’t want to be caught off guard.
The waiter approaches, and I order a strong black coffee. Not my normal choice, but I need all the help I can get. My nerves dance in my belly, and they have been since I woke up, which wasn’t long after I got to sleep at five this morning.
I’m wearing a soft wool dress with black knee-high boots. My hair is down, and my makeup is natural. I wanted to be classy, but not try too hard. Hopefully, I nailed it.
Looking up from my coffee, I see the doorway filled with him. Ben scans the room, and when his eyes land on mine,his posture stiffens. It’s the professional Dr. Jones who’s here, not the sweet Ben I love so dearly. The Ben I loved like oxygen. The Ben who walked away. Twice.
He makes his way through the mess of tables and chairs. The café has filled with ladies who lunch and tradesmen who knocked off work early. Pulling out a chair, he sits down opposite me, and his azure eyes lock with mine.
