The Runaway Mom

Chapter 9

Didn't I want a kid? I sit up quickly, accidentally hitting Caspian's head. "Ouch," he groans. I cup his face gently, caressing my index finger over the spot I hit. "I'm sorry," I say softly. Then I return his earlier question, "Are you alright?"

His Caribbean blue eyes lock onto mine, a dazzling mirror of my own in a different shade. It feels surreal, mesmerizing. No one could tire of staring into his irises, and neither can I. I swallow hard. Our lips are so close, the warmth of his breath mingles with mine. His heartbeat pulses in the narrow space between us, and his refreshing scent wraps around me, making me ache for a kiss.

"Shall you not forget you're in my room, love birds!" teases Para, leaving us both amidst her belongings scattered in the spacious area between the bed where I sit and the bay window Caspian just emerged from. He steps back slightly, and I clear my throat.

"I'll just go and bring these down to the Midways Voyager," she pauses, returning with a backpack from elsewhere. Midways Voyager is Papa's largest jet, purchased from the Midways' private jet showroom when I was in second grade because of my love for flying and Papa's passion for piloting and traveling with me from place to place.

"So I don't have to do it tomorrow at all. You both know, Pops. Call time is call time, and I'd have a hard time going back and forth," Para continues. Our jaws drop at the sight of her ten pieces of luggage lined up.

"Could you guys give me a hand here, please?" She exits first, grabbing two bags, one in each hand.

Caspian and I exchange glances, shaking our heads before grabbing two bags each and following Para to the jet hangar. I let Caspian walk ahead, observing him from behind. His broad shoulders exude confidence, and even from the back, it's clear he's handsome. His blue eyes, not quite the ocean blue like my donor's, can still make him a perfect fit and actually a wise candidate for my baby's father. Wasn't that my original plan? To conceive naturally? Now, it seems, the opportunity is right in front of me.

A rush of anticipation courses through me, my mind racing with the possibilities. Caspian is clean; I don't need a medical test to confirm that. Tracking his family's medical history won't be difficult either—he's Pops' cousin. I can subtly ask about genetic conditions without raising suspicion. If necessary, I can hide for seven to ten years and later carry my donor's sperm to give him the DNA result from that child if he becomes too curious about my firstborn or too nosy to care if it's his. But for the time being in this entire process, silence is key until the second baby is nearly a year old.

Knowing where he graduated, on the other hand, is simple; there's always Google. Or maybe we can discuss it over dinner. Being a scholar, he won't struggle with math, so I won't have to worry about tearful math lessons with my child in the corner of the kitchen one day. It's not because specific knowledge from a certain subject can be genetically inherited, but rather because behavior and aptitude are shaped by a combination of genetic predispositions and environmental influences. Scientific research demonstrates that while intelligence and cognitive abilities have a genetic basis, they are also strongly influenced by the learning environment and educational opportunities. With dedicated practice and additional tutoring, I believe my child could reach Caspian's level of brilliance, or even surpass it.

In relation to my Somerset best friends, Charlotte and Wesley, I'd inform them that I'm not settling in the Netherlands yet. I plan to spend nine months away for recovery, possibly extending it to a year and a half for a thorough recuperation. Of course, I have to stay there for another week or two to circumvent scrutiny and arrange to take Charlie with me before leaving. Perhaps I could initially tell them I'm coming, discreetly prepare for the scheduled sperm implantation for my second option in getting pregnant through IVF, and then feign a change of plans. I'm considering Canada or Mexico for the pregnancy. If there's one thing I excel at, it's evading unwanted attention. I've honed this skill over time, ensuring they won't find me. I'll return later to have the sperm implanted and be a week pregnant when I introduce my first child.