My Ex-Bestfriend

The aftermath

The next two days I run autopilot as I cruise through life praying Walt doesn't notice what a wreck I am. I can't help but contemplate packing up to relocate to somewhere where Michael can't find us. It's not just about Michael it is his whole family who will want to be involved too. This is what I have been avoiding since the first day I held Walt. I don't have the means and resources for a hefty custody battle, not like Michael does. Now that he is in the picture I need to play nice  because he has the power to dramatically change the parental arrangements. Honestly the idea of boarding a plane and running away sounds more and more appealing.

I talk myself out of it for a number of reasons. One being I don't want to disrupt the life we have built here. Then there is the fact that for all intents and purposes it isn't like Michael is a "bad guy" per se.  He isn't some low life addicted to drugs or beating women. He just pretended to love me in order to use me which inadvertently created Walt. Some men can be crappy partners but wonderful fathers. It isn't  fair for Walt to not have a male influence in his life when Michael is willing to be one but is he ready. Does he actually know what being  a parent is about? To sacrifice everything for someone else.

I call the one adult woman in my life that I seek godly wisdom from as a pseudo mom, Mrs. Rebecca, because her steady voice is always a calming presence in my life. Although I do love Christy, she doesn't have kids yet so she can't fully understand where I am coming from on a primal level.

The revelation that Michael almost imploded with the news of Walt didn't even garner a gasp from Mrs. Rebecca. She just always assumed the proverbial shoe would drop eventually causing a field day of emotional backlash.

I can't deny that deep down I had a feeling Michael one day would find out. Either from Walt's own curiosity or just life, I just hoped that Walt would be much older. That if it came down to court I would get sole custody. Mrs. Rebecca listens as I cry running every possible scenario by her.

"I know this isn't how you anticipated this situation to unfold but here we are, " Mrs. Rebecca says as she refills my chamomile tea cup for the 2nd time. My nerves so shot that coffee would be a bad idea.

I nod. 

"It's time to put your big girl panties on and face the music." My eyes widen as she has never been so frank before.

" You have done an amazing job at raising such a sweet, kind, loving little boy. I know you had your reasons 8 years ago but things are different now. Maybe Michael is different too and he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"What if he isn't different? What if he tries to take him from me?" I can barely get the words out over the lump in my throat.

" I think you are getting ahead of yourself. Take the first step. Talk to him. You are getting all worked up over something that might be a good thing."

I want to believe her but I just feel like my life is always too messy to work out that seamlessly.

I dread having to explain myself to Walt. How do I put this whole ordeal on the level of an almost 8 year old?

The next day at work I am distracted and jittery. At the dress designers I spill coffee on one of the display dresses. The face of the owner conveyed how she would prefer to skin me alive  when I bring it to her attention. Thankfully she doesn't charge me a cleaning fee because we bring them a hefty amount of high end clientele.

I go home feeling like a firework about to explode. Walt and I head inside to start homework and dinner when I hear a harsh loud knock on the door. I suck in a breath.

Please God don't let it be Michael. It's only been two days. He said a week. Please.

I look through the peephole and it is Rodrigo. If it wouldn't have given him the wrong message I would have jumped through the door and kissed him for not being Michael.