Mirabel
Afteranintenseweek,I finally did what I should have done after my son’s birth. I got a paternity test. I had to know. It might have just been a fluke that Cian resembled Ethan. Although Caroline Lovechilde almost fainting on the pavement confirmed the bloodline, I still needed one hundred per cent certainty.
After Ethan’s visit, I picked up the cup that Ethan had used and decided to have it tested. Asking him for a strand of hair felt weird. As though not trusting my instincts was some vital flaw.
When the email arrived with the results, my fingers trembled on the keyboard. I opened the document, and after scanning through scientific jargon, I landed on what I needed to know. Finally, the air that had been trapped in my lungs whooshed out.
It was a match. My shoulders sagged in relief. Reality finally seeped in—Ethan Lovechilde was the father of my son.
I’d decided to take Ethan’s offer of a day at the Pond. The invite had also been extended to Sheridan, who bubbled with excitement. After being handed a bag of complimentary goodies, she poked her head in the cotton bag stamped with an insignia of the Pond. “Oh my god,Le Mercream.” Her shouty whisper made me smile. “And an essential oil collection with a plug-in diffuser.”
We’d been allocated a room where we could change and call our own for that day. I looked out at the duck pond I’d zealously tried to protect, and the building with its mudbrick façade harmonised perfectly with its surrounding environment.
Unobtrusive but calming ambient sounds filtered through the room, and just being there made me feel light.
“They must have that essential oil in the air conditioning ducts,” Sheridan said, stripping down to her underwear.
We were to start the session with a massage, then a facial and anything else that took our fancy.
“So Cian is having a taste of the billionaire’s life.” Sheridan chuckled.
I went to bite my fingernail. It was the first time I’d been parted from my son, and anxiety invaded my body.
“You look worried.” She slipped into a white bathrobe.
“I am a little concerned about him being spoiled and treated like royalty.”
Sheridan frowned. “I think it’s great. Love from any corner is positive.”
I thought about how Caroline’s tight face had softened immediately when she knelt down to look at her grandson. Yes, my son would be loved.
“It’s important. You’re right,” I said at last. I tied the dressing gown sash and slid my bare feet into cotton-lined slippers.
“And Ethan?” she asked.
I took the glass of green juice and sipped the earthy-tasting liquid. “He’s in love with Cian. I mean, he’s goo-gaaing and pulling silly faces.” Warmth gushed through me as I thought of Ethan’s sweet affection for Cian. He doted on him. And the love I saw in his eyes mirrored the feelings I had for our son.
Sheridan inclined her head. “You look like you’re going to cry.”
My breath stuttered. I sank onto the comfortable armchair and buried my head.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“It’s difficult being around him. I still have feelings for him. I’ve never stopped having feelings for him. And I think he might feel the same, going on how he looks at me.”
“Then what’s the fucking problem? Sleep with him. Fuck him senseless.”
I sniffed. “If only it was that simple. We’ve got a child. What does that then make us? Casual lovers who happen to have a kid?”
She shrugged. “You’re overthinking again, sweetie.”
I sighed. “He’ll break my heart.”
“So what? At least you’ll have some great sex.”
I laughed at how flippant that sounded.
“Lighten up, Bel. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”