On Saturday, I had already prepared my script. I wasn't going to go as far as calling you a scoundrel, but I would be going close.
And then I saw you with Alfie, our son. He was waving his chubby arms in the air, shouting.
Daddy, daddy, come play with me?
You swooped him up in the air, and he laughed gleefully. His tiny hands flapped, his red face radiated happiness.
I remember the look on your face, happy, full of love for him.
Isabella had cooked a loaf of banana bread for you, eleven year old face bright with pride. She offered it to you.
You took it and ate it. Even though you hate banana bread.
I knew then that I couldn't. I couldn't confront you then.
So I gave you an unspoken chance you that never knew of.
YOU ARE READING
Red Flags
Short StoryWe swore to stay together. So when you shifted around, I stayed as an ever present shadow. There are more important matters than your affairs, James. I couldn't leave you because of them.
