Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 28

"Put your foot in," Emily instructed gently, squatting in front of Lucas as she guided his foot into his shoes. Once his foot slid in, she deftly fastened the shoelace.

"Now, you be a good boy at school. I'll come pick you up at five," she murmured, patting his head tenderly.

"Okay, Mommy," Lucas replied in his soft voice.

Her gaze lingered on his face, unable to tear herself away. He was a reflection of him. Her husband. Mark had been just as innocent at one point in his life; everyone had once been as innocent as a child.

"Mommy, is something wrong?" Lucas' voice interrupted her reverie, snapping her back to reality.

"No, sweetie, it's nothing. Mommy just... admires your haircut," she stammered, caught off guard.

"You like my haircut?" Lucas beamed.

"It's great, and so are you," she pecked his forehead affectionately.

"Thank you, mummy."

"You're welcome, sweetie," she replied, then rose to go to the mirror.

"I like Andre's haircut; he looks cool," Lucas remarked, tightening his grip on his backpack straps.

"Ah, that's nice," Emily said, rolling out her lip gloss and applying it thoughtfully.

"Mommy, is Andre my daddy?" The question hung in the air, and Emily turned to Lucas in shock.

"Dad... daddy?" She stuttered, her heart racing. "No, no, he's not... he's just... a friend, a family friend, you know..." she forced a strained smile.

"Then who is my daddy?"

The question struck her heart like a piercing arrow. She was silent, a simple question that felt so incredibly difficult to answer.

"I'm your mommy, I'm here for you."

"Angela has a daddy; he takes her to ballet classes. Danny has a daddy that plays games with him. I see other kids' daddies picking them up from school. All my friends have daddies, and they say cool things about them."

Emily's grip loosened, and her lip gloss fell from her hand as his words resonated. She had watched him grow up, not realizing that one day he might ask the very question she had been dreading. Lost in her own thoughts, she was jolted back to the present when she heard Lucas calling for her again.

She blinked rapidly, refocusing on her son. "Your father is fine," she said, squatting down and forcing another strained smile. "You're running late for school. Let's go."

#^[^#[^{]%]
Sitting alone in the changing room, Emily's gaze remained fixed on the lockers. She felt motionless, wishing to leave it all behind. It had been four years since she had left him, but the memories still haunted her – his alcoholic breath in her face, unprovoked violence, his horrifying actions when she was helpless.

Mark was dangerous, she was certain of that. How was she so slow that Lucas would one day ask for his father?

She had vowed months ago, after opening up to Andre about her situation, never to cry about Mark again. Why did Lucas have to talk about it now?

"Hello, Emily, we've been searching everywhere for you," Vee pushed the door open.

Startled, Emily turned to look at her, trying to hide the evidence of her tears.

"There aren't many customers today, and since Stella's not in, I think we should close early," Vee suggested, raising her eyebrows. She noticed Emily's swollen eyes.

"Were you crying?" Vee inquired.

Emily attempted to cover it up and averted her gaze. "No, I'm fine. I just feel tired, and..."