Walls Between Us

04 | broken love

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C A R T E R

I have a son.

I have a four-year-old son.

I am a father.

Fucking hell

My body stills, all movements ceasing as Amaya keeps looking at me like she is expecting me to say something.

Whatever she is expecting me to say, I can't.

I didn't know I had a son. I didn't know anything.

She never told me she was pregnant. We had always been careful with that. We had it all planned - two years of just being married and then we would think of kids. However, the way we used to be all over each other was quite contradictory.

But what if it happened without both of us knowing? Did she know she was pregnant the day of our wedding?

Fuck! What have I done...

I shut Amaya's file, taking my glasses off my eyes when I feel them start to moisten. I rub my eyes hard, not wanting Amaya to see how close I am to having a breakdown.

"You may leave, Miss. Sommers," I say in a strained voice. "We're done for today."

She doesn't make an attempt to move as she watches me.

My Snippy looks just the same as she did all those years ago but there is something on her face - a kind of tiredness - that makes me think that it is because of me.

Her brunette hair is tied to a bun, and the soft tendrils - the ones I had a fun time wrapping my fingers around every time we had sex - frame her soft features. Her eyes glisten as they focus on me.

"Carter..." she whispers.

I close my eyes, my name on her lips still sounding the same as it did years ago.

"Just go, Miss. Sommers." I force myself to maintain my calm as I speak with a straight face. "Please leave."

Her jaw ticks as she gets up from her chair. Snatching the file from my hands, she flips around, walking away from me. She reaches the door, stops, hesitates, but then pulls it open and steps out.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I dash from my seat towards the direction of the private bathroom that came with my office.

Reaching the toilet, I throw the cover open, bending down and throwing the contents of my stomach into it.

I gag, half crying, half aching as I flush the toilet and walk over to the washbasin. After washing my mouth thoroughly, I drag my body to the nearest wall.

Leaning against it, I pop open the buttons of my suit and push it off my body, letting my collar loosen. Once my body is more comfortable with the present environment, I let the tears escape my eyes.

I have a son and I don't even know what he looks like. I have a son who doesn't know he has a father who regrets not knowing him sooner. I don't know what he likes or dislikes, I don't know if he knows he has a father, I don't know if he would love me if he knows me.

What happened to us? How come I never tried to find Amaya after everything was over?

I should have tried instead of letting myself be blackmailed by that old man. My grandfather has always thought that what I had with Amaya was just a high-school relationship. He doesn't know the depth of us. He doesn't know because he hasn't seen it.

I scream into the air, letting my frustration with my life tear through me.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I yell at myself or the ghosts of the past, I don't know.