Page 16 of Poetry of Flowers

“I would never joke about her depression, I’m not a bad person.” Theo sounded almost shocked, “Do I give her the impression that I don’t take her seriously? I don’t want her to think that.”

I quickly shook my head. “No, you don’t, but don’t ask her about it, you’re her friend, and you take her seriously, Tillie knows that.” I assured him, not wanting him to feel bad again for not having much empathy for anyone.

“And I always take your shit seriously, you know that Kayden, right? I- I… even when I don’t talk much about it or seem like-”

“Theo, it’s okay, I know, why the self-doubt lately?” I asked as I looked at him. But Theo looked at his toes. He couldn’t make eye contact when he was unsure or frustrated.

“Theo- ah fuck!” I cursed as a sharp pain went through my thumb. I cut myself. I watched the blood spill onto the kitchen top.

Shit.

“Why did you cut yourself?” Theo asked as he came around the counter to me, taking my hand in his and looking at the blood dropping into my hand.

“Because I wanted to test how it feels.”

“It hurts.”

“Well, obviously it was an accident,” I grunted at him.

“My mom has band-aids in her office, can you get one or two, or just get the whole package.” But Theo just stood there, looking at me in confusion. “What?”

“Your mom forbid us from going into her office.” He looked uncomfortable.

“Alright, I just get it myself then.”

And with that, I jogged up the stairs and walked along the hallway straight into my mom’s office. She wasn’t home, and I didn’t care if I stepped in here for once to get a damn band-aid. I was sure it was okay to come in here instead of bleeding out.

Theo had followed me but stood outside the door like an idiot, while I went through my mom’s drawers searching for the packet, she had just used this weekend to take care of Faith’s paper cut.

Bingo.

I grabbed a tissue to press on the cut, took out a band-aid and placed it over the wound. It didn’t look so bad anymore without all the blood. It wouldn’t need stitches.

“You good, man?” Theo asked from outside the room, and I chuckled as I looked at him, “You can come in, it’s not like my mom is going to cut off your head when she comes back. She loves you too much for that.”

“I rather wait here for you.”

When I put the packet back in the drawer, I noticed a file with my name on it that I had never seen before. If it had my name on it, it was for me. I inspected the brown file and a few pages fell out. I put the folder back on the desk and bent down to pick up a page that looked like a letter to me from my mother. It was dated a few days after my birth seventeen years ago.

Dear Kayden, June 6th, 2005

I don’t know when I will give you this letter, or if I will ever be ready to do it. But I need to write this down because it’s killing me that I can’t tell anyone else. I look at your sleeping form next to me and I see his thick black hair on your tiny head, the secret is eating me from the inside out.

When Nash was around three years old, Patrick and I got into an argument. We had problems in our marriage before this, but it had gotten worse over the years, even with Nash by our side. After he entered our world, it had gotten better for a short amount of time, but it didn’t work out. That night, I needed a night away from him and had called one of my old friends from high school. He was in the city over the weekend to visit his parents. I saw him when I went shopping the morning before. In high school, we always had a very close relationship and that night we did what we never dared to do when we were younger. We consumed our love even though we both were married and had our families.

Why we did that is our story, but it wasn’t okay and never will be. He went back to his pregnant wife in Illinois, and I went back the next morning to Patrick and my son.

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant with you, the entire pregnancy I had hoped you were Patrick’s, but as soon as you were in my arms, I knew that was not the case.

You probably know the story that you got your hair from my mother. It’s a lie. It’s the lie I told Patrick too because our marriage had gotten better when I was pregnant with you.

I still love him, and I don’t want one night to ruin everything.

Clark doesn’t know about you, but if you like, we can visit him one day and explain everything. I know this is your right. I’m so sorry, my boy.

Never forget, I love you with all of my heart, okay? You’re my baby.

Love,

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