The Man He Chose

Chapter 31

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Mrs. Namwirotes's POV

With leaded steps and a heavy heart, I made my way back to my son's unit.

Santa had just finished setting the table.

My heart cried silently at seeing three sets of plates with three sets of utensils on either side of the plates.

He greeted me when I came inside the unit.

His face fell when he saw me coming in by myself.

I went up to him and gave him a tight hug.

"He will come back," I promised Santa. "We just need to give him a little time. He will come crawling back, but when he does, you won't be around."

He broke away from me.

"What does that mean?" Santa asked, his face in shock.

"We are going to teach him a lesson that he will never forget," I said firmly.

Santa kept quiet, waiting for me to continue talking.

"After we finish eating lunch, pack your stuff and come with me to my place," I said. "Do not answer any of Cooheart's calls. I have an extra room in my house for you."

"What if he comes to your house?" Santa asked.

"Don't come out to greet him," I replied. "I will tell him that I have no idea where you have gone."

Santa nodded, but his face showed his doubt and reluctance.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"If he comes looking for me, I'm not sure how long I can keep away from him," Santa said, his face torn with indecision.

"You have to harden your heart," I said firmly. "It's the only way to teach him a lesson."

He still looked doubtful.

"Believe me," I said. "Mother knows best."

When he heard me saying "Mother knows best", he finally nodded and agreed to my plans.

"What did you cook?" I asked to change the subject. "It smells really good and I am really hungry now."

"Crunchy beef strips in coconut milk and yellow curry," he replied.

"Yummy," I said. "Cooheart doesn't appreciate your culinary skills. I want to knock some sense into that thick head of his."

Santa did not respond to my comment but sat down and started serving food on to my plate.

I noticed that he ate very little. And I understood. In the circumstances, I probably wouldn't have much appetite either.

After lunch, I told Santa not to waste time washing the dishes but to just load them into the dishwasher and start packing his stuff.

Then Santa and I made sure that there were no electrical appliances left on and that Cooheart's front door was locked.

"Let's go," I said, and hoped that it wouldn't be long before my son went back to his unit.

At my home, I showed Santa where the extra room for him was.

"This is where Cooheart used to stay before he decided to live on his own," I told Santa.

Santa looked around the room.

"Can I look at the stuff that Cooheart left behind?" he asked.

"That's your room now," I said. "Feel free to do anything with whatever is in there. And whenever you get hungry, feel free to take anything from the fridge and kitchen cabinets. This is your home now. You are now my son."

On impulse he turned and hugged me gratefully.

"You are very kind," he said. "I feel lucky and thankful to have you for my mom."

"I am happy that you feel that way," I said, hugging him back. "Don't forget now. You are going to ignore my son's calls and you are not coming out to greet him if he comes to my house."

He nodded, his face looking unsure once more.

"Be strong," I urged him before leaving him in his new room.