Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“I cried?”
“Big, fat, ugly tears. I’ll never forget. You were so happy. You were all, Darling! Look I’m so big!”
“Christ. I just get worse and worse.”
“We began having fun, but then little Aden…”
“Little Aden?”
“That’s what you call your dick. Little Aden wants to come out and play, little Aden needs petted. Little Aden needs you to whip him into shape.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, holding my head down and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Anyway he kept swelling, to the point… we thought maybe you had been stung by a bee. It was so huge and distorted. You couldn’t stand for me to touch it either. It was so painful. Then it started turning blue…”
“Oh fuck…” I growl and my hand goes to my dick protectively, just from the thought of what she’s saying.
“After a couple of hours, I finally told you we were going to have to go to the doctor.”
“Did we?”
“You finally agreed to go to the emergency room. You were getting a migraine from all the crying.”
“The crying?”
“Your dick was really swollen and you cry easily. You once cried for three days over a movie.”
“A movie?” I ask leaning against the door, my head down.
“Steel Magnolias. There was this part where Julia Roberts was dying and she was on the floor and her little son was crying…”
“Don’t. Just don’t, Hope.”
“Don’t what?”
“Just don’t tell me anymore. I really can’t take hearing anymore.”
“You don’t want to hear about how the doctor came in and stabbed your dick with a—”
“No!” I growl, drowning her out before she can give me another mental image I’ll never get away from.
“Okay…well…I need to get back to Jack,” she says. “Sweet dreams, Aden,” she adds and then she reaches up on her tiptoes, places a brief kiss on my cheek and walks away without once looking back.
And leaving me to wonder what in the hell just happened.
twenty-six
hope
“Hope, you are going to Hell,” I whisper to myself all the way back to my home. I thought I was a horrible liar, but apparently I’m a nervous liar. Because, you insert my panic and I open my mouth and the lies just pile up on each other. On the bright side, I may not have to worry about what Aden’s going to do to me if he gets his memory back. No, I’ll die of a nervous breakdown and a subsequent heart attack way before that happens.
Once I make it inside I lock the doors and check on Jack. My heart hurts when I look at him. He’s somehow convinced himself that Aden is his dad.
When I first got here, and before Daria was able to help out, I was forced to put Jack in daycare. I hated every minute of it, but I stayed so busy there was just no other way. All the kids there had both parents for the most part and quite a few had their Dad’s pick them up. Until that time, Jack had never wondered about a father, he had never had one in his life so it didn’t enter in. I mean, he’s just a little over two, I thought I would have longer to explain things to my son.
Then this happened.
I’m the worst mother in the history of motherhood. There’s no other explanation. I’m screwing up my son’s life; I’ve already fucked up everything to try and take care of him and I’m probably going to end up destitute and living on the street and have Jack taken away from me. He’ll be given to someone else. I’ve heard horror stories about foster homes. He’ll probably get a family that’s mean to him and still, that’s probably better than what I’ve done.
At those thoughts, my closely knitted control snaps and tears just start falling. It’s the ugly cry tears too, as I sob out my misery. They’re huge raking sobs that hurt to release, but no matter what I do I can’t stop them. I can’t even control them when the phone rings. The best I can do is take a broken breath in between the sobs and eek out the word, “Hello?”
“Hope, honey? Are you okay?” Daria’s voice comes over the phone and her deep concern is evident in her tone, and just makes me cry harder.
“I’m not okay!” I blubber. “I’m a freak!”
“Hope—”
“He thinks he’s the father of my son, Dar! He…called him beautiful,” I whimper, in between tears. “Jack’s real father couldn’t even spare a moment to look at him and Aden helped put him to bed and just stayed in his room for an hour watching him sleep!”
“Uh…well he thinks he’s Jack’s father, honey.”
“I know, because I’m a horrible person,” I sob.
“You’re not horrible, you’re just a little confused.”
“I’m a lot confused,” I correct her, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.
“Where is he now, honey?”