Erotic acts are instinctive; they fulfil a role in nature. The idea is familiar, but it is one that contains a paradox: there is nothing more natural than sexual desire; there is nothing less natural than the forms in which it is manifest and satisf...
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Although a DNA test had determined he was the father and Omar had come to terms with the idea of being someone's dad, his knees felt weak as his eyes landed on the 18-month-old boy with eyes like his own, sitting in his mother's lap.
As he and his mother, Vivian, made their way towards the table where Yasmine sat at the very back of the restaurant they made reservations at.
Omar and Yasmine's fling was brief, he'd flown her out to Vegas a few times after meeting her there while she was in town for the weekend with her girls. Although she was cool, outside of sex they didn't have much in common.
Their last meeting was nothing special and after the fizzled out, he didn't feel a need to contact her again.
If his memory served him correctly, he'd worn a condom every time they were intimate. But as he sat down across from her, he could feel within his soul.
This child was undeniably his. There was a magnetic pull, an almost visceral recognition that transcended doubt or science. Omar tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, his mind racing through the implications of this newfound reality.
Vivian, sensing his unease, gave his hand a supportive squeeze before releasing it and taking a seat beside him. Yasmine watched them both carefully, her expression stoic.
"Omar," Yasmine began softly, her voice rasping slightly. "I know this is a lot to take in. I didn't plan for things to go down like this. But...this is Aiden. He's your son."
Aiden. The name hit Omar like a punch to the gut. He looked at the boy again, who was now playing with a toy car on the table, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Omar finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yasmine sighed, her eyes filling with tears. "At first, I was honestly convinced he belonged to someone else. And when I found out he wasn't his I was scared, confused, and so I kept up the lie. But as Aiden started to grow, it became impossible to ignore the resemblance. I knew I had to tell you."
Omar's mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, confusion, fear, but also an unexpected surge of protectiveness for the little boy.
"What about the other man, does he know he isn't his father?"
Yasmine nodded, wiping away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "Yes, he knows. It was a difficult conversation, but he deserved to know the truth, just like you do."
Omar took a deep breath, struggling to process everything. "And what now? What do you want from me, Yasmine?"
"I don't want anything from you," she replied, her voice quickly becoming laced with venom. "Your son needs for his father not to be a fucking deadbeat."
Vivian instantly intervened, her voice steady but firm. "Let's try to keep this civil for Aiden's sake. We're all trying to navigate a complicated situation here."
