The Shade's Of You. | ✓

38

Sophia.

Charlie was super excited and happy, he kept bouncing up and down in his seat and pointing at everything and anything. “Phia! Look, look, it's a train. I want to go on a train too, can we?” He turns to give me his pouty look.

I laugh at his excitement and nod my head, up and down.

“Be careful with that bouncing.” I yelp when he nearly trips.

This boy.

He could give me a heartattack.

I'm sure his brother won't mind us exploring his home while we're there for the next few days. Especially if his little brother who he won't admit to it but, he adores the little devil very much and I think that much is obvious from the many gifts and endless laughter— the two of them though, together, sometimes it was like asking for danger.

And the fact that both boys look so similar.

It was fucking crazy.

“Why are we going to London?” Charlie plops himself on my lap and stares up at me with green questioning eyes.

I smile and brush away his blonde locks, “Your brother has some important work to do and I thought, since we have nothing to do this week, we might as well tag along with him. It'll be fun. Plus, my dad stays there, too, so maybe, we could go visit him, if his not busy that is.” I quietly say.

He gasps loudly and pinches my arm, hard, and completely ignores my glare towards him. “You have a dad?” He asks.

Immediately my heart deflates and painfully squeezes in my chest, like an heavy weight sits on its thin veins.

That was stupid of me, how could the fact that me having a dad and him not, completely fleet my mind. I feel so stupid for even mentioning my father after his curious question. I know one day, he is bound to ask more hard and intense questions— like where his parents went? Why did they leave him, with me? Why they haven't tried contacting him? I know I would never be able to explain it to him. I had silently given that duty to his elder brother.

I sigh, nodding my head yes and his eyes twinkle.

“But he wasn't always my dad, only recently.”

“What do you mean?”

So I explained it to him, about my childhood and how my dad was hardly— never there for my mother and I and how I had hated him for the longest of time and some parts after that. I had told him, I had basically only rekindled with my father because of his brother— he was happy.

But I knew it wasn't happy at that time,

Not even close.

I didn't tell him about our little trip to Santorini or London and about his brother's little revenge scheme either.

He wouldn't understand it, obviously. He was still very young for that and I doubt I could ever tell him about it, anyway, because it still was a sore subject, even after these years but I didn't let that one single moment justify my decisions today— decisions to be with the only man I had ever romantically loved and would ever love in my life.

Charlie listened to my little rant and stayed silent throughout, listening and taking in all information.

As I spoke, I had realized something and it was weird that I had never noticed or realized it earlier but I know I knew.

This little guy was just like me, in a way, at least.

I barely had parents, a runway father and an unstable mother, no offense to my dead mother. She was a good woman and mother, she just. . . she lost it somewhere along the way and I get it. I understood her now because I was in love and I knew— I fucking knew! I knew that I would die without the man that I love, that much was true.