Wildflowers |h.s|

eleven

Devon

He has kids. Two actual kids. Daughters. He has daughters. And he didn't tell me about them. He said he had a roommate, not daughters. Oh my god, was he lying about having a wife? I really think I'm having a heart attack.

For the past few months I've been dating a man that has kids and I haven't even known about them. Here I thought he was just a single guy who was fun and sweet and hot, but he's a father. And I didn't know that very important detail until now. You would think that's the first thing you tell someone about yourself.

Everything feels like a lie now. His roommate turned out to be his children. All the lies and excuses he made that once led me to believe he was married or a drug dealer, they were all to hide his kids. How can a man hide his two daughters like that, especially once a relationship starts getting serious? What was I gonna meet them at the fucking wedding?

Harry has been blowing up my phone since I left, but I just don't have the mental capacity right now to talk to anyone. I've just been holed up in my bathroom, sitting on the floor, reevaluating the last few months.

Mitch. Oh god, he was trying to tell me. He knew Harry didn't tell me about his kids and he was trying to warn me and I didn't even know. How did he just let me blindly date Harry knowing I had no clue about his little ones at home? How the fuck did this happen?

How did I find the one guy I really genuinely liked, just for him to end up being a fraud? I just can't get past the two daughters. His voice was so gentle when he scolded the older girl for opening the door without him. He cares about them. How the hell did I miss the two daughters thing?

He didn't have pictures of them at the shop anywhere. I think I would have noticed a picture of two children sitting proudly on his desk. I was at that house before and I didn't see any signs of children living there, then again I wasn't really looking for any and we were too busy having sex.

I lean over the toilet bowl, throwing up out of anxiety for the fifth time since I got home. How did he hide this from me?

The amount of times I told him to be honest with me about things, and I just lied right to my face and told me he was being honest. If he would have said this from day one, yeah I would have thought a long and hard about dating him, but I probably still would have. But now how do I trust a man who hid away such a major part of his life?

I'll admit though, things are starting to click into place a lot better now. His strange schedule, how I would go hours without hearing from him. The tattoo on the back of his right arm that he claimed was based off a childhood drawing. He would never stay overnight when we would have sex, no matter how much I tried to get him to stay. Oh god, I kept these girls away from their father and I didn't even know it. More vomit comes up.

All I can hear in my head is the tiny voice of his daughter, calling him Dad. Her eyes were just like his. And the way he was holding his other daughter on his hip so effortlessly. He looked so relaxed and just... like a father.

Suddenly that voice is replaced by one over the intercom for my apartment. "Devon, we need to talk about this. I know... Just, I know I messed up. I know I should have told you and I wish I did. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, just please let me explain. You don't have to get back together with me, I don't deserve that but just let me explain. I can't live with myself if this is how things end."

I wipe away some tears, sitting back against the wall of my bathroom. This is just too much.

"Devon... Just please let me up. I fucked everything up and I'm taking responsibility for that, but please. No more secrets, I swear. And I know you can't trust me now either, but I swear Devon. I'm gonna be honest with you."