Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I carried the coffee to the table and set it down with a couple of plates. I bent and kissed him. “She’s lucky she found you guys.”
His eyes crinkled in pleasure at my statement.
“Now, don’t laugh when you see dessert.”
“Okay.”
I opened the refrigerator, taking out a small box. I slid the contents onto a plate and set it on the table. Dom stared at the small birthday cake in silence. “What is that?” he asked, his voice sounding strangled.
I sat down, meeting his gaze. It was pain-filled and shocked. I was confused.
“My local bakery makes cakes. If one isn’t bought, she reduces them. I can never resist a white bakery cake. It cuts into two easily, so I treat myself on occasion.” I paused, noticing the fact that his hands had begun to shake. “Dom, what is it?”
“I can’t…” he choked.
I took the cake and put it back in the fridge. He stood and crossed to the living room, pulling his hands through his hair. I walked up behind him, sliding my arms around him, puzzled as to why the sight of a small birthday cake would cause him such sadness. “I’m sorry.”
He turned and wrapped me in his arms. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t expect that. I was trying to forget, to let it be another day, but then the cake—” He stopped, his embrace tightening. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat gallop.
“What about the cake?” I asked.
“Today is my son’s birthday,” he replied quietly after a moment. “Another one of his birthdays I’m not part of.”
“Oh, Dom,” I whispered, shocked at his words. “I’m so sorry.”
I looked up, meeting his troubled gaze. “Do you want to tell me?”
His eyes met mine, the pain in his gaze now obvious to see. Heartbreak was written all over his features.
“I’ll listen if you want. If not, I understand.”
He let out a long exhale of air. “I want to tell you. I never talk about it. But with you, Cherry, I want that.”
I stepped back, taking his hand and leading him to the sofa. “Then tell me.”
The room was quiet for a few moments as Dom gathered his thoughts. He looked as if he was going to talk a couple of times, then stopped. I wondered if he was unsure how to start, so I decided to ask him a few questions.
“I didn’t know you had a son.”
“I don’t talk about him.”
“Is he about Hannah’s age?”
“No. He’s much younger. He—Josh—is thirteen today.”
“Oh,” I said. “Much younger.”
“I met his mother when I was thirty-four. She got pregnant and had Josh when I was thirty-five.” He rubbed a hand over his scruff. “Our relationship wasn’t a good one. She was incredibly demanding and self-centered. Manipulative. Nasty when cornered. I broke it off after a particularly bad fight. She found out she was pregnant and told me. I wanted to be part of my kid’s life, so we got back together. Her pregnancy somehow made her softer, and we got along better. I thought things would be okay.”
“But they weren’t.”
He shook his head. “I loved being a dad. Everything about it—even the diapers. Roxanne was a good mom, and things were all right for a while. Then slowly, she began the mind games again. The demands. The constant emotional upheaval. I was to blame for everything in her life she hated.”
“How awful to live like that.”
He shut his eyes, his hands curling into fists on his thighs. I reached over and laid my hand on his, and he stared down, opening his fingers and flipping his palm over so I could grip his hand. I stroked the skin as he began to talk again.
“I stayed for Josh. I loved him, and I couldn’t bear to think of my life without him. But she was done with me and made my life miserable. She told me she wanted me gone, and I said I’d take Josh with me.” He stopped for a moment. “She was awful to me, but she was a loving mom to him. I couldn’t fault her that. But I hated the thought of my son growing up in such a toxic environment. She refused to let me take him. We argued and fought. She berated me constantly. Made me doubt every decision. The only peace I had was rocking him to sleep or sleeping on the floor by his crib. I left to stop the horrendous atmosphere. She got a slimy lawyer and a bunch of friends who swore that I was a deadbeat dad and did nothing. That I refused to marry her and settle down. I got a lawyer and had a few people to vouch for me too, but hers played dirty. I lost and got limited visitation, while she had full custody. I paid my child support monthly and saw Josh as much as I was allowed. Then one day, she got married. Informed me they were moving. Again, I fought and lost. Josh was three at the time. They moved to Simcoe, making it harder for me to see Josh. We fought all the time over visitation. When I would get him, he was difficult and cried to go home. The visits were awful. I think she filled his head with stories about me. Bad ones. At times, I thought he was afraid of me. Then I was informed they were moving out of province. I tried to fight it and lost. She used all the missed visitations against me, and I lost Josh.” He paused. “She even went so far as to say I might not be his father.”