“Why do you have my son woman?” she asks surprised. Let’s rewind to the beginning.
My husband is no typical man. To start off, his name is O’Bryan and his character is everything associated with the name. I knew this when I married him, I fell in love with his charm and could never shake it off. Since knowing him, our life was just perfect. It was his second chance and he had grabbed it with both hands.
A few years down the line, we got pregnant. It was amazing. We became closer and he could not get him off me at any time. Everything in his life revolved around us and it felt really amazing. The nine months during our pregnancy were my best. Bryan was so sweet; he’s the type of guy who sweeps you off your feet with the right proportions of affection and attention. Nine months later, I was screaming in the delivery room and he was pacing outside. I developed some complications and couldn’t deliver normally. I was in a comma when they delivered our baby boy.
My belly bump was too big for my size and I was tempted to think that I would deliver twins. I never believed the ultra-sound scans that said I only had one child in me. I could feel it in my bones and the only time I could prove it, I was in a comma. The joy of being a first-time parent was overwhelming until today when my path crossed with my presumed lost son. I swear that woman looked familiar. She was taller than me, well built and her dressing mode had an exaggerated sense of humor. She was trying too hard to be classy.
“Why do you have my son?” I managed to ask her. My bile was on fire. “But you have your son right there.” she retorted back.
That’s true, my son Kendrick was holding tight onto my left arm. He was freaked out, his eyes glued to his look-a-like.
“He’s my son. I have watched him grow and mentored him to be a good boy” she said. All this time I was looking at the boy beside her. He had his father’s eyes, his hell-a-fine hair, and my mother’s hands. In every way, he looked like my sweet Kendrick. I was sure he was my son. I could feel it in my bones; that I carried him for nine months in my belly.
“How is he your son? You don’t even look alike in any way.” I retaliated. “Anybody can see that. Can’t you?” I felt the taste of bile in my mouth. The situation was escalating from zero to a hundred real quick.
“I can’t believe this. Let me just call O’Bryan and settle this.” She exasperated. I saw a look of pity and mischief in her eyes before she focused her attention on the phone. Then it hit me, she had mentioned my husband’s name. “Did you say, O’Bryan?” I whispered as it dawned on me why she looked familiar. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I said. Do you have a problem with … ” I didn’t hear anything else she was saying. My brain was in turmoil.
I had seen her in one of Bry’s TBT photos on Facebook. She had tagged him in a post a few years back. Why did she have our son though?
I had never had a reason to doubt Bry for the four years we had been together. He had always been sweet and saintly to my eyes. Could it all have been a lie?