by Vivian Ward
“A few months now; is that a yes?”
Tears are threatening to stream down my face. I told myself that I wouldn’t cry on the day that I gave birth, but all of these damn hormones raging through my body; I can’t control it.
“Yes,” I cry, kissing him.
“Joline, I love you so much. I just want us—the three of us—to spend the rest of our lives together as a happy family. I don’t want to know what the paternity test is because it would crush me to lose something that belongs to me twice.”
I know exactly what he means because I don’t care either. I don’t want to know if it’s his or Zack’s baby; I couldn’t live with myself knowing that the baby wasn’t his.
It’s better this way.
It’s been over seven months since I’ve seen Zack, but I’ve kept my eye on him because I still care about him. He started dating a woman named Angela, and from what I’ve seen on social media, they seem like a happy couple.
They look like they’re serious and even opened a business together. They had a grand opening for a jewelry shop in an upscale strip mall not too far from my house, and I’m glad he’s doing well.
“I love you,” I say to him, our foreheads pressed together as we nestle the baby between us. “I don’t know how me and….the baby got so lucky, but I’m glad that we did.”
“We really need to name that baby, don’t we?”
“Yes,” I laugh, wiping away my tears. “What does he look like to you? I think he looks like a Aaron or maybe a Dominic.”
“No, not Dominic. I like Aaron, or maybe Todd.”
“Let’s go with Aaron. I like that better than Todd, and we both agreed on that name.”
“Okay, whatever you say, fiancé,” he grins at me.
It’s so strange being someone’s fiancé but I’ve been called worse, I can get used to it.
Epilogue
Hanging Aaron’s kindergarten picture over the mantle in the living room, I step back to admire how adorable he is. He looks exactly like Trent did at that age, based on his old kindergarten pictures.
Marriage has been good to the two of us. We get along well and when we have a disagreement, neither of us will go to bed angry. We always work it out before we go to sleep.
Aaron’s a typical 6-year-old little boy who loves to dig up all of my flowers while getting dirty and riding his bicycle. His teacher loves having him in class and says her only complaint is how outgoing he is because he likes talking to everyone.
He’s a fast learner, catches on quick, and is always up for a challenge. His dad has taught him how to push himself and explore his environment, no matter what that environment might be.
Trent’s the best dad any boy could ask for. They play ball together, ride bikes together, and he teaches Aaron everything he knew when he was that age. Those two are pretty much inseparable.
We’ve talked about having more children, but I want to go back to school and get a degree. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but I figure I’ll take this year off for myself to enjoy and relax before I start my next chapter in life.
Zack and Angela didn’t last; though, they did work out for almost four years, which is longer than any other woman he’s been with. I heard through the grapevine that she has a sister who she brought into the jewelry business to help out, but she had her hands in too many things—such as deposits and display cases.
From the talk around town, she stole thousands of dollars in cash and even more in inventory. Angela refused to press charges against her sister, and that was the breaking point for Zack. There had been some other rumors floating around town, but I assume they’re just that—rumors.
After Trent and I got engaged, I stopped checking on Zack’s social media because I didn’t feel it was right. When he asked me to marry him, I knew from that point forward, I had to dedicate myself to him 100%.
When I said my vows to him at our wedding, I meant them and I’m so glad that he was able to forgive me. Not many couples can move past something like that, but we defied the odds.
My dad might have something to do with that, helping our marriage. He often babysits and is a big part of Aaron’s life. I don’t think there’s a day that goes by where my dad doesn’t either talk to him on the phone or see him in person.
And on most weekends, Aaron spends every Saturday night with his grandpa. The two of them are a mischievous pair; I have to watch them when they’re together. My dad likes to teach him how to play cards and there must be something in that boy’s blood because he loves playing Black Jack.
I’ve told my dad that I don’t want him teaching my boy bad habits, but he says there’s nothing wrong with learning how to count and add, and he justifies their betting because it’s only pretzel sticks. He says he’ll graduate Aaron to the big leagues (chocolate candies) when he gets faster at counting.
I guess in the end, everything worked out with me coming back home. There was a time when I did everything I could not to come back here, but now I wouldn’t leave it for the world. This boy, my husband, my family mean the world to me. They are my rock.
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About the Author
Vivian Ward was born in Brooklyn, New York but now lives in St. Louis, Missouri. Growing up the daughter of a single mother, her life was a struggle from day to day. When things got hard, she retreated to her room where she would write about fantasy worlds that would take her away from reality. Even as an adult, her passion for writing never went away and now she hopes to share it with the world.
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