No. No. No. My head’s shaking back and forth violently in an automatic response to the thoughts in my head.
This can’t be happening. Not to me. How could she do that?
Fuck.
I’m immobilised, stuck fast by the sight in front of me.
Pain rips through my chest. And I want to scream. She’s heading towards me but I can’t move. I can’t comprehend what I’m looking at. I mean, I knew there was someone else… but, fuck.
I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing. How the fuck could she? I’m struggling to get air into my lungs. Each breath feels like I’m sucking in air through cotton wool.
She gets within a few metres of me before her smiling face looks up. She looks straight into my eyes and hers widen, fear flickering through them. I stand shaking my head, robbed of speech.
I glance down and dark, wide eyes greet mine. “Is he…?”
She takes a small step forward, her hand reaching for me. “Please, Noah. I can explain.” The sound of her nervous voice stimulates my body into motion. I turn and walk away, incapable of saying another word.
Walk away.
“Noah, come back… I can explain.”
I can hear the panic rippling in her voice, but I can’t turn around. Instead, I begin to sprint away from her, from them.
Stay away.
“Noah! Come back… Noah… Please!” She’s yelling, begging. But all I can do is run.
I reach my bike, switch the ignition, slam my helmet on, and screech off in the opposite direction. The growl of my bike engine matches my emotions, and for the first time in my life I don’t find it soothing. It’s just fucking aggravating me.
I just want some peace. Why can’t I have a little bit of fucking peace? My mind is bombarding me with questions I don’t have the answers to. I’m not even sure I want them. I pull back harder on the throttle, hurtling through the streets. Trying to find the calm, which usually accompanies the ride. I’m just not feeling it.
The only place I can think to go is the local beach. I roar up into the car park, and come to an abrupt stop. I kill the engine and dismount like my arse is on fire. With long strides, I reach the sand, and a small bit of relief flows through me.
Taking a glance around, I can see I’m alone on the huge expanse. Not surprising really. It’s certainly not beach weather. The sun that began the day has given way to a dull and gloomy sky. My mind wanders from soothing memories of being a child on this beach to the present. My whole body begins to vibrate with suppressed fury.
I rip off my helmet, and throw both that and my jacket to the damp sand. Feeling the wind whip through the thin fabric of my T-shirt, I stand and watch as the waves crash against the nearby abandoned pier, water swirling and foaming around the base of the wooden posts. My heart beats like a runaway train, and I focus on the water, it’s all I can do to stop my legs giving way under my weight.
I have a son.
I couldn’t disguise my disbelief at looking into my own eyes. Shock is not a word that covers how I feel. I feel betrayed. I feel cheated. I feel… fucking livid. How could she keep him from me? How could she not let me know I have a son?
Fuck!
Anger courses through me, I can feel it burning like lava in my veins. I don’t know how to deal with the unexpected revelation. I run a shaky hand over my head as I continue to watch the waves battering the shore. I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad. For fuck’s sake, I’m a mess. How am I expected to be a role model to anyone?
But he’s not just anyone, he’s mine. There’s no mistaking that. I’m not a fucking idiot. When brown eyes stare back at you with a shock of dark, the spitting image of you when you were a kid, you don’t need a DNA test to prove shit. I don’t doubt for one second that he’s mine. How could she fucking keep that from me?
The same questions flow through my mind over and over. I’m so fucking angry. The sky is overcast, looking like a storm is brewing, reminding me once again of the woman that ripped my heart out. I didn’t think the pain could get worse, but now? Now the searing pain in the gaping cavern of my chest has been renewed with force. I can’t breathe. The crushing pressure surrounds me again. She’s like a wrecking ball destroying every inch of me. I thought I had recovered from her loss but I was wrong. And here she is again, but now she has a son. My son.
I don’t even know his name.
I couldn’t speak to her, couldn’t force a fucking word out after my pathetic question. The surprise of seeing me was evident in her smouldering grey eyes. Those amazing eyes. They haunt my whole existence. I see them in crowds. I see them in reflections. I see them in my dreams, and I see them in every single one of my fucking nightmares. She’s everything. There’s not another woman who even comes close, but I’m her what… nothing? I don’t even rate being told I’m a dad.
I’m a fucking dad.
The storm moves closer. Rain begins to pour down on me, soaking through my T-shirt and jeans, gluing them to my skin. The cold seeps in, but I can’t feel it, my temper produces heat throughout my body. I stand with my face raised to the sky, as the rain cascades over me, dripping in rivulets down my skin. My hands reach for my head again, tugging aimlessly at my skin as I release the scream which has been building in my chest. The power behind the release brings me to my knees. I can’t grasp the situation, the debilitating feeling of helplessness that engulfs every part of me.
The mother of my child is the only woman I’ve ever loved, and that’s a good thing, right? I have so many questions. I don’t know where to start. So I ran. I needed to escape the nagging thoughts of worthlessness she evokes in me. Thunder rumbles and flashes of lightning crackle on the horizon. The rain comes down in sheets, and here I kneel on the sand. I let out a wry laugh. Only me. This could only fucking happen to me.
I’m beginning to realise the self-preservation of running away was a shitty move, but I couldn’t comprehend the sight in front of me. I turned tail and fled like a fucking coward. How’s that for dad material?
I feel like I’m slowly breaking apart, yet with every fragment that splinters from me, another small piece of me is being rebuilt. It’s fucking bizarre. An almost primal love begins to burn in the blackened cavern in my chest. The heart that had slammed back into its cage upon seeing Lizzie has spluttered to life. It’s still black and blue, but the pumps are beginning to buzz.
I have a son. I’m a dad.
My thoughts run haywire but it dawns on me she has tried to tell me. Bollocks. I thought the other man in her life was that fucking Alex. It’s not. It’s my son. Our son. I’m angry as hell with myself. If only I had listened, I would have known. I could have met him. Do I want to meet him? Fuck yes, I do.
I wonder if he knows who I am, if Lizzie has told him anything about me at all. I want to know when his birthday is, what his favourite food is, his favourite TV program, if he has one yet, random shit. I want to be there when he starts school for the first time. When he takes his first real fall, when he needs tucking in at night, I want to be there for all of it.
Lizzie’s pleading screams echo in my head, begging me to stay, offering to explain.
She’s only had three fucking years to explain.
I’ve missed years. Years I’ll never get back. His birth, his first tooth, his first step, his first word. I’ve missed them all. The screaming is persistent and I can’t turn it off. Her eyes flash before mine. Shock and something else flicker through them… fear. She was afraid. Afraid of what? Being caught out?