The One That Got Away ✔

Chapter Seven

"Freddy Danson," Freddy says under his breath.

I snap my head in his direction quickly.

"Excuse me" I fold my arms.

"It has a ring to it, don't you think?" He looks over to me for a second.

I firm my gaze. "No"

"It sounds better than Freddy Barone" he admits. "Why didn't you give me his name? Or at least hyphen it?"

"You already have his face, now you want his name too?" I snap, averting my gaze away from him. "Why do you need his name?" I lower my voice.

"He's my dad after all" Freddy shrugs.

I exhale a deep shaky breath.

I remember the day he was born like it happened yesterday.

I was walking in the park with mum.

I was in early labour for a week at that point.

I was moody and exhausted.

When my water broke I thought I had peed myself. After realizing that I was in fact drenched in amniotic fluid, my mum drove me to the hospital.

The contractions were deep in my back and abdomen at first before taking over my whole body. Being in labour felt like the Gods were punishing me for having premarital sex at sixteen.

My mum was in the room the whole time, screaming words of encouragement. I didn't hear any of it because my mind was in a world of torment.

Sixteen hours later I was a mother.

I chose the name Freddy after my grandpa Frederick. He died when I was little. I gave the baby my last name, after all, Kyle wasn't in his life and he was my child.

However, the road to motherhood wasn't all daisies and roses. In fact, it was far from it.

Since the day he arrived, I felt disconnected from Freddy. I felt as though I was playing make-believe and that none of it was real.

Brain fogs were a daily occurrence as well as meltdowns every time I breastfed. Panic attacks happened whenever my mum left me alone in the house with him.

That's when it started. That's when drugs and alcohol become my friend. I gave up on breastfeeding almost immediately and began bottle-feeding Freddy.

After he finished with his bottle, I started with mine. Vodka and weed were my poison of choice.

It was a few months later when I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and anxiety. The doctor prescribed sleeping pills to help me sleep. I took them most nights. The drinking and smoking only happened when mum wasn't home.

It took me almost a year to recover from PPD. Mum and Tom did everything they could to help me and Freddy. I didn't want to do therapy, instead, I painted in the backyard.

I painted what PPD felt like. I did abstracts of a nude pregnant woman standing in front of dark backgrounds. They became one of my most popular pieces to this day but that all happened a little later down the road.

Becoming a parent was a hard adjustment and not just because I was sixteen, but because I was living with Kyles doppelganger. The boy that I had birthed was just like Kyle in every way.

It was hard to be living with that reminder while dealing with my guilt. I knew that I was the asshole in the situation, not only did I break Kyle's heart, but I was keeping his son away from him.

I knew that Kyle deserved to know about Freddy. I'll never forgive myself for lying to him. Life was just easier with Kyle out of the picture.

I just couldn't help but think about him every time that I had Freddy in my arms. How could I lie to those big brown eyes? Lying gets easier with more time and practice.

"Well, dad's are overrated," I tell Freddy.

"Just because you never had one, doesn't mean you can keep mine from me" he retorts.

I roll my eyes. That's not what I'm trying to do and he knows it.

"Kyle could be a sick sick man" I ramble, "he could be a sociopath or predator for all you know!"

"Well is he?" Freddy cocks a brow.

I sigh.

No. He's not.

Kyle's a better person then I could ever be. He loves with his entire heart and soul. When he cries, the whole world stops. He's the smartest person I've ever met and the most rational. Kyle would die a painful death a thousand times in order to save someone, anyone.

How can one person possibly be that good? I know that I'm sure as hell not.

"Mum you're not a kid any more, you have to grow up and take responsibility for all this," my son says calmly.

I sigh "what if you like him..."

"What?" Freddy furrows his brows, "more than you?" My eyes well up with tears, forcing me to look away from him. "Is that what you're so afraid of?" He asks.

I shrug "I don't know..."

"No matter what happens, you will always be my mother...you may not be the greatest mother in the world and you don't always know what to do...but you definitely try the most and love harder than any other mother on the planet" he kisses the back of my hand.

I sniff as sadness overwhelms me.

Kyle is the best person I know. He's parenting will make me look like a complete phony. I've never met someone that has as much patience and kindness that he does.

Freddy will soon resent me from keeping Kyle from him.